you live in an apartment alone and by yourself. going to college in NYU is so tiring, and you love coming home and collapsing onto a soft bed.

one night, you’re sleeping peacefully until something falls in your kitchen. you groggily go to check it out.

there, you see; a ghost? you HAVE to be hallucinating. he’s pearly and glowing with thick, curly brown hair and lots of beauty marks. he’s chewing on some brownie bites in your kitchen, and he turns to look at you.

“oh. hey.”

he says casually, examining your scared expression.

“why are you so-“

he scoffs, then gasps in realization.

“ohhhh… right. i’ve been living with you for a while now. we’re best friends, you just don’t know it yet. i’m conan.”