[Third Person Pov]
Danny and Ember were making their way through the bustling streets of Metropolis, slipping into the rhythm of the city's nightlife as best as two ghosts possibly could. Neon lights reflected off glass windows, passing cars, and—unfortunately—the faint supernatural glow that both of them naturally gave off. It wasn't enough to expose who they really were, but it certainly earned them more than a few double-takes from pedestrians who couldn't quite decide if their eyes were playing tricks on them.
Danny shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced sideways at Ember. "Just so we're clear," he muttered, "I'm completely new to this city. I'm not exactly fit to be your tour guide."
"It's fine," Ember said, completely unbothered, her boots clicking against the sidewalk as she strolled casually ahead. "We'll explore it together."
She paused mid-step and turned her head, giving Danny a slow, deliberate up-and-down. He blinked at her, leaning his torso away defensively.
"What?" he demanded.
"First things first—you need a makeover," Ember declared, the judgment in her tone sharp. She shook her head at him, disappointed as if his clothing choice were a personal offense.
Danny glanced down at himself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"What isn't wrong with it?" Ember scoffed. "Danny, you're wearing a jumpsuit. A jumpsuit. It's fine for your hero gig or ghost stuff or whatever, but as casual wear? Yeah, no. Absolutely not."
"It's what I died in…" Danny said with a shrug, because honestly, he never put much thought into fashion. Clothes were clothes. They covered his torso. That was it.
"Exactly," Ember huffed. "But that doesn't mean you have to keep staying dead in it. You have zero sense of style. Zero." She held up her fingers like she was measuring the amount. "Negative zero, even."
"You wouldn't be the first person to tell me that," Danny muttered, remembering one of his encounters with Death, who, apparently, also had the same opinion.
"Which is exactly why we're fixing it." Ember grabbed his wrist in a flash and immediately began dragging him along the sidewalk with the force of a determined personal shopper on a mission. "C'mon! Fashion awaits!"
Danny groaned, stumbling after her. "Ember—none of us know this city! We're just walking blindly!"
Ember whipped out her phone and held it triumphantly above her head. "Not when these things come with maps!"
Danny stared at the device and finally asked "Where did you even get that!?"
…
A few minutes later they stood in front of a thrift store whose flickering sign looked like it had survived at least three alien invasions. Ember stood proudly with her hands on her hips, while Danny covered his face with both hands, shaking his head in disbelief.
"We could've gone to a nicer store, you know…" Danny grumbled, sweeping his hand down his face in surrender.
"Nonsense," Ember said with smug confidence, "Thrift stores are perfect. They have everything you'll ever need, and all at cheap prices. It's basically treasure hunting. But with discounts."
Danny raised an eyebrow. "Do you even have money?"
"Onward!" Ember declared dramatically, completely ignoring his question as she pointed toward the entrance. She practically kicked the door open.
Danny snorted despite himself and followed after her. "Why are we even doing this?" he asked, trailing behind as she marched through aisles of mismatched clothing racks like a general surveying a battlefield.
Without slowing, Ember glanced over her shoulder. "Because you've clearly been through a lot lately. And things like that change people. Your outfit should show that—you know, reflect who you are now. You're not the same kid you used to be."
Danny frowned. "Like how girls dye their hair or cut it after a breakup?"
Ember paused, looked back at him, and blinked. "…It's weird that you know that. But yes. Exactly that. Your change needs to be visible. You shouldn't just admit you've changed—you should embrace it."
"…Right," Danny muttered, still not entirely convinced.
"Now come on!" Ember declared, renewed enthusiasm charging back into her voice. "I already saw a bunch of clothes over here that'll look great on you."
With no room for argument, Danny sighed, resigned to his fate, and followed Ember deeper into the store.
…
Danny staggered forward beneath a mountain of clothes stacked so high it swallowed the entire top half of his body. Ember walked beside him with the smug pride, She turned toward a nearby store worker, a bored-looking woman folding shirts. "Excuse me, where's the dressing room?"
The worker blinked at them—first at Danny's teetering tower of clothes, then at Ember's unearthly blue glow—before silently deciding not to question it. She motioned for them to follow and guided them to a row of small cubicles sealed by cheap curtains.
Before Danny could even set his mountain down, Ember shoved him into one of the stalls and yanked the curtain shut. "Alright, go in there and come out looking snappy. And remember the combinations I told you about."
Danny groaned from behind the curtain. "You gave me, like, seventeen combinations—"
"Figure it out!" Ember chirped.
A moment later, the curtain snapped open.
Danny stood there wearing a white tank top three sizes too big, baggy pants sagging halfway to his knees, and a backwards grey cap—complete with his symbol—tilted at a ridiculous angle.
He stared blankly at the two of them. "I look like I belong in a Backstreet Boys album cover."
The worker lady snorted loudly behind her hand. Ember burst into open giggles, nearly doubling over.
Danny's eyebrow twitched.
"T-Try another one—pffft—another—set—" Ember managed to choke out before closing the curtain again, still laughing.
The curtain opened again.
Danny now wore shredded black jeans, a black shirt covered in skulls, spiked cuffs on both wrists, a spiked choker, an awful black wig, and enough dark makeup to make him look like he crawled out of a Hot Topic dumpster.
Ember folded her arms, unimpressed. "Too Sam."
Danny snorted and yanked the curtain shut himself.
When it opened the third time, Danny looked like he had wandered out of a music video from 2006. He was wearing a large puffy jacket, each finger glittering with rings, his neck drowning under layers of thick chains. His sunglasses had gold dollar signs for lenses, and his teeth sparkled with golden grills as he flashed a flashy grin.
Ember didn't just laugh—she collapsed to her knees, wheezing.
Danny ran his tongue across the grill and grimaced. "Where did you even find this?"
"Hahaha—" Ember slapped a hand against the floor for balance, pointing vaguely behind her. "I found those on the floor near that trashcan over there."
Danny froze. His face went blank in the kind of way that suggested murder.
"Hehehe, I'm kidding," Ember said, rolling her eyes. "Obviously I bought them."
Danny sagged with visible relief. "Where did you even get the money—"
"Next!!" Ember cut him off and slammed the curtain closed in his face.
Danny took longer with the next outfit, enough that Ember's curiosity finally got the better of her. She poked her head straight through the gap in the curtain.
"Need help?"
Danny yelped, jumping and clutching a shirt to his bare chest. "Have you ever heard of something called privacy?!"
"Oh please," Ember smirked, eyes trailing deliberately downward and back up, "it's not like there's much to look at."
"You have five seconds to leave before I kick you in the face," Danny said—completely deadpan.
Ember backed away giggling.
Finally, the curtain slid open again.
Danny stepped out wearing a white-and-black sweater with the zipper slightly undone across his symbol. Black pants hugged his legs comfortably, a chain clipped loosely at his side, with a couple of belts wrapped stylishly across his waist and thighs. He floated just slightly off the ground—an unconscious habit—his fingers running awkwardly through his hair, which had grown out a bit messy from how long it had been since he had cut it.
"So… what do you think?" Danny asked, voice slightly bashful due to the intensity of Ember's gaze.
Ember looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Her mouth parted a little before she caught herself, blinking rapidly. "I—I mean, you look—I mean the outfit looks—"
She cleared her throat, cheeks faintly green from either embarrassment or the neon lighting. "You look great. It really suits you."
Danny ducked his head, a small embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thanks…"
The worker lady watched the entire exchange from the end of the aisle, hands clasped together as she grinned warmly, thinking: 'How adorable…'
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