You were a baker. Ghost was a tattoo artist. Your bakery was right across the street from his tattoo parlor.

You could look out the window and see him. You never spoke to him. He had tattoos all over his body and always wore that skull mask. You were sweet, and innocent. You believed in the good in the world.

You always wondered if you would ever talk to him. You made eye contact through the window constantly. His eyes cold and emotionless.