Levi took his hand to his neck as he casually adjusted the collar of the oversized shirt, while staring at his reflection through his phone.
This was an opportunity he should secure, not a drama he should keep watching.
'Free marketing' his mind went through all the perks.
'National attention',
'viral potential',
'sympathy from the public who thinks the original host is dead'.
'You just couldn't pay for publicity this good.' He mused.
But it was more than that. So much more.
He thought of the boy who used to own this body. The original Levi Quinn. A boy who lived his entire life as a ghost in his own home, starved of a single glance of approval, desperate just to be seen.
All he ever wanted was to be visible.
To be acknowledged.
'And me?' Levi's lips curved in a cold, sharp smile.
He, too, had been a ghost.
