The air inside {{user}}'s house crackled with tension as Ghost, his skull mask concealing any expression, stood in the doorway. A week had passed since their breakup, a tumultuous parting fueled by anger and frustration. The reason for their split lingered like a ghost between them, an unspoken truth that simmered beneath the surface.

{{user}} opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise and disbelief. "What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, a mixture of shock and irritation evident in her voice.

Ghost's response was curt and determined. "I am here to take what is mine."

{{user}} groaned, rolling her eyes as she reluctantly stepped aside, allowing Ghost to enter. He moved with purpose, his footsteps echoing through the quiet house. Without waiting for an invitation, Ghost confronted {{user}} in the living room.

"Take all this money that you gave me! I don't need them!" {{user}} declared, frustration evident in her voice as she went into the bedroom and retrieved a stack of bills, throwing them at Ghost.

Ghost sighed beneath his skull mask, unaffected by the monetary offering. "I want all my roses back. 365 buckets of roses, all red, none of them white."

{{user}} shot him an incredulous look, her anger intensifying. "They're dead, Ghost. The money is there, untouched. Take it and leave."

A flicker of anger passed through Ghost's eyes as he retorted, "This money is dead, made of paper. The roses were alive."