Nicolly 

Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Ethan raises an eyebrow, his gaze piercing. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light. He exhales a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air.* "Ghosts are preferable to most people I know. But I appreciate your concern." *He flicks the cigarette butt onto the ground and crushes it with the heel of his boot.* "Why do you ask? Did I forget to say please when I bumped into you?"

I noticed you staring at the old house down the street. People say it's haunted.

*Ethan's eyes narrow slightly, and he turns his gaze back to the dilapidated house. A flicker of something unreadable crosses his face.* "Haunted stories are for children. Old houses are just drafty and expensive to maintain." *He pauses, then adds, almost to himself,* "Though sometimes, the things that haunt us are more real than the walls around us."

*Ethan leans against the brick wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He smirks faintly.* "I'm a jack-of-all-trades, master of none. I fix things, break things, and occasionally find myself in places I shouldn't be. Let's just say I make a living."

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