West: The Sun from Another Star: Chapter 1

☀️☀️☀️ 

ARTHIT POV 

“Wow, stunning as hell.” 

“It’s just ordinary.” 

"Why is this room so gloomy though? Open the windows, would you? What's the point of having windows at all?" Jo's partner, North, wandered around the room after expressing his desire to see my place. I didn't mind—look all you want. He strode over and drew back my curtains with casual familiarity as if the place were his own.

“I just got back.” 

“Why does it smell so musty? Did something die here?” 

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Musty, my ass. I live here just fine.”

“Really? By the way, what does it eat?”

“I buy it meat, chicken and stuff,” I answered, referring to my snake, a light yellow ball python I keep in a glass enclosure. 

“How much was it?” 

“Two or three hundred thousand, I think. This pattern is hard to find.” 

“What if it slithers out and falls from the building?” 

“Then we’re screwed.” 

“Are you really living alone on this floor?” North asked. 

“Yeah, why? But your friend already moved in, didn’t they?” 

“Yeah, just the two of you on this entire floor. Take care of my friend, alright?” 

“What for?”

“Geez. Do you know anything about the room next door? People say it’s haunted. Have you noticed anything?” 

“Yeah.” I sighed, already tired of thinking about the neighboring room. “Every single night. Annoying as hell. Tell your friend they don't stop dragging furniture around; I can’t sleep.” 

North went silent, took a deep breath, and collected himself. “Wait, what? Every night? Then won’t my friend be scared out of their mind?” 

“If he is scared, why’d he move in?” 

“Hey, but he said he wasn't scared.” 

“Good. So why did he move in? I thought I’d have the whole floor to myself until I graduated.” 

“Because the landlord offered a 70% discount. My friend couldn’t resist.” North explained.

“Seventy? That’s more than my discount.” 

“Well, you live right next door. If you want a bigger discount, move into that room.” 

“Too lazy to move my stuff. Forget it. Get out already; I’m going to sleep.” 

“Why are you sleeping now? It’s still early.” 

“I’m sleeping. Get out. Shut the door.” 

“Fine. You up for some gaming tonight?” 

“Yeah, after I wake up.” 

“Cool.” North left, closing the door behind him. I hope his friend who just moved in doesn’t make too much noise. The crying, laughing, dragging furniture, and things dropping from next door every night are enough already. 

Why don’t I move out, you ask?

Because I’m lazy. My stuff’s a pain to pack. Why should I move? They’re the ones who should leave. Even after they’ve died, they’re still causing trouble. Ridiculous. 

Too tired from class all day, I dozed off just like that. 

⭐⭐⭐ 

Daotok POV 

I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted after hours of unpacking. The room is amazing. The condo owner replaced everything, sofa, mattress, even bathroom fixtures. The space is huge, enough for all my stuff. 

I quickly grabbed my phone and made a call. 

(What’s up? Finished moving into the new place?) 

“Yes, Dad. When can you drop Mr. Jeon off?” 

(I’m busy this week. How about next week?) 

“Alright.” 

(You didn’t move into some shady cheap room, did you? I don’t trust it.) 

“Don’t worry about it. Let me talk to Daddy.” 

(Alright, hang on.) 

(When are you coming home?) My dad’s familiar British accent came through the line. 

“Just got back. Could you send me a picture of Mr. Jeon?” 

(Sure. How’s the new place?) 

“It’s spacious. Very convenient.” 

(Good to hear. I’ll visit when I can.) 

“Okay. Talk later.”

(Alright.) 

I hung up. The people I was talking to just now were Dad and Daddy. To clarify, I have two dads. Dad is my biological father, and Daddy is his partner. Daddy is British, and they got married. Now Daddy lives here in Thailand with Dad. We’re happy as a family of three. Mom got remarried, too. 

Anyway, I moved to a bigger place for Mr.Jeon’s sake. Mr. Jeon’s my black cat with one blind eye. I found him near my old place and decided to take him in. Since then, he’s been like the other half of my heart that I thought I’d lost. I worked hard to move so Mr. Jeon could have a better space. 

It was past 7 PM. I sat at my desk, turned on the lamp, grabbed my tablet, and started working. Time flew by until almost 10 PM. I stretched, intending to shower, and glanced at the bracelet in my hand. I hesitated because I wasn’t ready to confront what I might see. 

I have a unique ability. I can sense energy or emotions that others can’t. It’s a bit annoying because I can feel people’s emotions, like sadness or anger, as if they’re my own. But it requires focus, so it doesn’t bother me too much unless I’m really concerned about someone, like a friend, or sometimes, even a cat. 

The bracelet my grandma gave me helps suppress these abilities. I’m not scared of seeing or sensing things, but it’s unsettling. Even if I can’t see everything, I can still feel it. 

I decided to take the bracelet off. The oppressive feeling hit me immediately. 

Hmm. 

“Let’s have a talk,” I said to the empty room. Except it wasn’t empty to me, not entirely. I still couldn’t see anything, which I preferred. 

“I pay to live here, which makes me the rightful tenant. Check the contract if you want. So you all have no right to this room. Please leave.”

“...” 

Of course, there was no reply. 

The sensations became stronger. 

It felt like I’d managed to anger them. 

But why would they be angry? I was just stating the truth, wasn’t I? See? This is why it’s so annoying. 

I stripped off my clothes to take a shower and walked into the bathroom. The floor was strangely wet. How was it wet? I hadn’t even gone into the bathroom since I got here. 

“Water bills aren’t cheap. Next time, bring water from somewhere else.” 

I said that casually before turning on the shower. The sound of the water and the warm spray against my skin made me feel a bit more relaxed. After a while, the bathroom light started flickering. I sighed again, pretending not to notice, and continued my shower. 

Eventually, the bathroom light went out completely. I dried myself off and walked out of the bathroom. 

Locked? 

From the outside. 

“...” 

First question… Why would a ghost lock me in the bathroom? 

Second question… How am I supposed to get out? My hair’s still wet. Catching a cold would be a real pain. 

"Open the door." 

"…" 

"Don't be stubborn, okay?" 

"Talk properly. I won't do any good deeds for you. I'm already drowning in my own sins."

"...Hic... Sob, sob..." 

I heard crying from behind me. When I turned to look, there was nothing there since it was completely dark. I remember hearing about a woman who was murdered in the bathtub. I squinted toward the bathtub, and after a while, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, letting me see a faint shadow. 

"Are you naked?" 

"Sob… Sob…" 

"I'm naked too. Men and women shouldn’t be naked together in the bathroom. I'll close my eyes then." I slowly shut my eyes as I promised and tightened the towel around my body to ensure she couldn't see me. "Are you the one who locked me in here?" 

"Hic… Sob, sob…" 

"I’ll talk to you later. It’s cold right now. Maybe I'll bring my computer and work in the bathroom instead. Is that okay?" 

"Sob… Sob…" The crying grew louder, leaving me confused about what exactly she wanted. If she didn’t want to talk, why lock me in the bathroom? Then I heard the bathroom door unlock. 

"I'm leaving now. So, do you want someone to talk to or not?" 

"Sob, sob… Sob…" 

"Okay, you can wash your face now. Feel free to use the sink. Be careful not to get puffy eyes." I opened the door and stepped out. But how did the ghost manage to lock the door from the outside? Did she phase through the wall, lock it, and phase back in? 

Whatever. 

I quickly got dressed, dried my hair, and put my bracelet back on before returning to work. The bracelet is useful because it suppresses my senses, making me feel like a normal person. That means I can still sense things that are intense enough for regular people to notice, even with the bracelet on.

I worked late into the night, as usual, since school hadn’t started yet, allowing me to stay up and focus. Once I finished the draft, I sent it to the client, who promptly sent feedback for revisions. 

"Ah, damn it. You want it smaller?" 

"Smaller details?" 

"If I make it any smaller, you won’t see it." 

"Well, if I adjust it further, it’ll lose its impact. And now you want more shadows? Huh, but this is an evening setting. If you wanted heavy shadows, you should’ve specified noon lighting. There’s barely any light in the evening." 

I muttered to myself. I’ve had the habit of talking to myself since I was a kid. Growing up without many friends, I learned to rely on myself for conversations. If I don’t talk out loud, I can’t focus. 

And another important thing is… 

"What should I do?" 

"Adjust the position?" 

"Good idea," I said, turning to look at the figure that had appeared beside me, a young girl about my height with short wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a white floral dress. In her left hand, she held a worn-out teddy bear and smiled kindly at me. 

Emma. 

Do you think Emma’s a ghost? 

Nope. Emma’s my imaginary friend. 

As a kid, many people create imaginary friends to play with, right? I’m not sure why Emma never disappeared as I grew older. Maybe because I still didn’t have many friends. But it’s not bad. She keeps me company, and she doesn’t spill my secrets. 

"Michael."

"What?" I asked. 

"Emma likes the new room, but it doesn’t feel very good." 

"Really? My other friend said the same thing." 

"North wore black today. He looked cute." 

Emma’s a big fan of North, but of course, I couldn’t tell him that. 

Oh, and about why Emma calls me Michael, well, it’s because I used to get teased for having a girly name, Dao Tok (meaning "shooting star"). People often called me names and accused me of being a sissy in kindergarten. Out of frustration, when I got to elementary school, I started telling everyone my name was Michael. By the time I reached high school, I realized my name was special, given by my dad. Why should I care what others think? It’s my name, and I’m fine with it. The only exception is North, I forgive him for any issues with my name because he’s North. 

So, if you don’t like the name Dao Tok, feel free to call me Michael. 

"Is North close with the neighbor? Why does he spend so much time there?" 

"I don’t know. I think it’s because he is friends with North’s boyfriend." 

"North’s boyfriend is handsome. They suit each other." 

"True. Emma, keep it down. I’m trying to work." 

"Okay. But you should tell Donut to stop staring at Michael." 

"Mm," I replied nonchalantly. What Emma sees is also what I see. Donut is the name of a guy from the political science faculty who was stabbed to death by his girlfriend while he was asleep. He’s been standing and staring at me as I work for a while now. 

I’m wearing the bracelet, so why can I still catch glimpses of him? 

"Emma."

"What is it? You told me to stay quiet, but now you’re calling me. What should I do?" 

"Should I wear a Buddha amulet?" 

"That might help. It could make Donut go away." 

"Alright," I said, getting up to grab a Buddha amulet from my bag and putting it on. Not sure how effective it’ll be, but it’s better than nothing. 

Why is he still here? 

I don’t want to talk to him. 

Honestly, I’m mad. 

What kind of… ugh, ghost doesn’t have manners? 

Ah… finally, he left. 

Donut walked away from my desk and sat on the bed, presumably where he died. I turned my attention back to work. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pacing around the room, which was incredibly annoying. 

I flinched when I heard a grating sound. Donut was scratching the wall with his nails, staring at it while dragging his fingers up and down. 

Why are you doing this? 

Ugh… I put on headphones and played rain sounds to drown him out. I didn’t want to scold him or engage. I tried focusing on my work despite the ghost making irritating noises nearby. 

When I need to concentrate in noisy places, I usually play rain sounds. I like the sound of rain, and music is too distracting. 

Nearly an hour passed before I heard a knock at the door. Ar midnight?

The only people on this floor are me and the friend of my friend’s boyfriend. Surely, he wouldn’t be knocking on my door, right? 

I turned up the volume on my headphones to ignore the knocking. 

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. Frustrated, I got up and approached the door. 

"Stop knocking," I said calmly through the door, hoping whoever it was would hear me. 

"Open the door." 

"I’m not opening it. Stop knocking already." 

"Open the damn door!" The knocking turned into pounding, startling me. 

"Why so aggressive? Are you lonely?" 

"Lonely, my ass! Open the door, you jerk!" 

"Why is this ghost so rude?" 

"You idiot, I’m not a ghost! I’m the guy next door! Open the damn door!" His response surprised me. Oh, so it really is the neighbor? I leaned down to check through the peephole and saw it was indeed him. Initially, I didn’t want to look because I thought it was a ghost and didn’t want to see. Slowly, I opened the door. 

"Is there something you need?" 

"Tell that bastard in your room to stop dragging chairs! I can’t sleep!" 

"Dragging chairs? You mean… Donut?" I was confused. If he was referring to Donut, he wasn’t dragging chairs; he was just scratching the wall. I glanced back and saw Donut still at it, his nails completely torn and blood dripping all over the wall and floor. Hopefully, it wasn’t real blood, I didn’t want to clean it up. "I am not dragging chairs." 

"I’m not talking about you! I mean the damn ghost in your room! Tell it to stop making weird noises!" 

"Got it. I’ll let him know."

“Damn it! Can’t even get a decent night’s sleep,” he cursed angrily, scratching his head roughly before turning back to his room. I slowly closed the door, glancing around my room in confusion. 

Who’s dragging a chair? 

And why didn’t I hear it? 

I took off my bracelet to figure out who would be dragging a chair at midnight like this. 

Who’s here now? 

From what I’ve read, there should only be three ghosts, right? But who’s this woman hanging herself right now? She’s wearing an old, wrinkled university uniform and dragging a chair to the balcony to hang herself since there’s nothing in the room to tie the rope to. There’s no ceiling fan like in other apartments, but there’s a clothes drying rack on the balcony. 

She dragged the chair there, sobbing uncontrollably, tied the rope, slipped her face into the noose, and kicked the chair away. 

They say people who commit suicide are stuck repeating the same act over and over, and it seems to be true. 

Hmm… How should I handle this situation? 

… 

Okay, let’s start by grabbing some coffee. 

I left my room with Emma following me, heading down to the convenience store to buy coffee and some snacks to keep me fueled for working through the night. On the way back, I thought about how to deal with the sound of the chair being dragged. 

Ah… I’ve got it. If there’s already a place to stand there, they wouldn’t need to drag the chair. 

Once back in my room, I moved an unused wooden shelf to the spot under the balcony rail. I’d have put a chair there, but unfortunately, I only have one chair in the room, the one I’m using. After that, I put

on headphones and got back to work, ignoring whether the chair dragging sound returned. Donut, who had been scratching his nails on the wall, was gone, back to sitting on the bed as usual. 

I was startled by a loud crash from the balcony, as if something had fallen hard onto the ground. I immediately took off my headphones and rushed out to check, worried that the wind had blown something of mine off. 

I looked around the balcony to see if anything was damaged, but it seemed fine. The woman who had been hanging herself was also gone. When I glanced down at the lower balcony, I saw someone lying there, blood everywhere. 

Fell off the balcony? 

Ah, that news report about a medical student who jumped off the balcony to end her life. Knowing that, I figured she’d probably do it again. As expected, out of nowhere, a woman appeared next to me. She didn’t even look at me. She was wearing bloodstained pajamas, her face streaked with tears, and then she threw herself off right in front of me. 

I looked down again and saw the corpse in the exact same position as before. 

Okay… If I were to die, I wouldn’t want to commit suicide. Having to hang yourself or jump off a building every day? That’d get old fast. 

I went back into my room and resumed working, leaving everyone to fulfill their roles. Around 3 a.m., the noises stopped. 

“The one in the bathroom is still crying,” Emma said, sitting beside me. 

“Yeah, they’ll stop when they’re tired.” 

Go comfort them. 

“No way. I haven’t even finished my work.” 

“Michael, you’re so cold.”

“Mm.” 

.. 

I kept working until my body couldn’t take it anymore. Stretching slightly, I prepared to sleep. As soon as I lay down, I felt an overwhelming sense of unease. I guessed I had replaced someone who had died there. 

Fine, I’ll just move to the other side. 

I rolled over to the other side of the bed, but I had to roll back again because I couldn’t fall asleep. Whoever I’m lying on, too bad, I can’t sleep unless it’s on the right side of the bed. 

Exhausted, I fell asleep quickly. In the early hours of the morning, I dreamt of Donut sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at me. He said he was starving and asked for food. In the dream, I replied: 

“Too broke for offerings…”

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