Finally being able to let my rainbow-colored hair flutter in the wind felt liberating. However, that precious moment didn't last. It never does.

I should have known that my past would come back to haunt me. Yet, I never expected that to happen literally.

Just my luck that the first Pride Parade I choose to attend would be the one with an unfriendly spirit. Was it too much to ask for one enjoyable day where I get to be who I am and flaunt my fabulous nature?

There is a reason I retired from the exorcism business. It's exhausting. So much so that I've never lived my life, never let my hair down, and simply relaxed.

I've never been embarrassed by my sexuality or who I am in general. Yet, I've never allowed the world to see my magnificent self. That's what happens when you are too busy chasing restless spirits.

Today started great. I enjoyed the colorful magic of the Pride Parade. I was basking in the feeling of love and acceptance that filled the air. It's the type of energy I am rarely surrounded by, and I was loving every second of it.

What made the day even better was a pair of light blue eyes that kept checking me out bashfully. I felt rejuvenated in a way I haven't felt since I was a teenager.

When I made eye contact with what must be the most handsome guy I've ever seen, a blush blossomed on his pale cheeks.

It was the most adorable thing I've ever seen. Usually, I don't go for the shy type, but this guy... There was something about him that made my body tremble in delight.

Of course, the moment I stepped forward, determined to introduce myself to the dark-haired beauty, was the precise instant in which the familiar sensation reached me. It was like ants crawling under my skin, almost impossible to ignore.

There was no denying it, a bewildered spirit was present, and it could only mean trouble.

At first, I tried disregarding it, even though things started moving on their own, and people were looking around startled. Only when the street sign started falling towards the source of my affection did I spring into action.

In a flash, I pushed him to the side as the sign fell where he was standing moments before.

"You saved..." he starts to say.

"Unfortunately, you'll have to thank me later. I have to dash." I said, leaving the stunned man behind with a heavy heart.

I had to follow the trail of pushed people and flying objects that the spirit left in its wake if I wanted to stop it from destroying this precious event.

That's how I find myself here, behind the largest float, instead of in the center of attention, where I belong.

"Come out, come out, where ever you are," I say, chuckling at my bad joke.

A wave of cold air washes over me, and I know I have its attention. The fact that a part of the float breaks off and barely misses me proves my point.

"Epitrépste mou na syndethó me aftín tin psychí. Afíste ta mátia mou na doun ti den boreí na dei. Epitrépste mou na akoúso to poté den akoúo." I say quickly.

Finally, I can see the spirit of a young man in his early twenties, standing in front of me with a scowl on his face. Seeing his expression, I know I need to figure out what's wrong, but I am so tired of all this supernatural business.

"What's your deal, boy? You almost killed that guy!" I say neglecting the tactfulness necessary when dealing with spirits.

"What's my deal? It's not fair! They are all so happy! They can show themselves to the world without being attacked for it! I am so angry and confused and..." he says, seemingly lost for words.

"Why?" I ask, gently prodding.

"I am confused by this display. Was something wrong with me? Why didn't I have the same chance to tell the world who I am? Why did I have to die? Just for liking men? Also, why do they get to be happy and not me?" he says, the air around us getting frigid.

I realize that the poor boy must have been one of the statistics I watch on TV, one of the many who were unjustly murdered for being different.

"I am afraid I don't know, my dear boy. Life is often not fair, and people can be cruel. But things are getting better. I mean, look at all of this," I say, gesturing towards the grandeur of the Pride Parade before us.

Two men are passionately kissing nearby, and a girl with bright blue hair is holding hands with another girl, both smiling at each other in joy. Everyone is laughing and dancing. It's an astonishing sight to behold.

"Maybe instead of being angry with them, you should rejoice that no one will ever go through what you've been through," I say.

The air around me starts warming up, and I know I am getting through to him.

"What happened to you?" I ask.

"I was killed on this very street because...because I was gay, and my neighbors didn't like that. I think they wanted just to scare me, but they ended up killing me instead," he says with more sorrow than anger.

"I am so sorry, my boy," I say honestly.

"Would you quit that!" he says.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Calling me a boy. I am just a few years younger than you," he says.

I am astonished to hear that. I thought that the spirit was much younger than me. Yet, it might be his smaller stature that is making me misjudge his age.

"How old are you?" I ask, curious.

"Twenty-five," he says.

He is only five years younger than me, yet he seems much younger. More innocent, perhaps. Though he was brutally murdered, he still didn't see as many awful things as I have. Maybe that makes all the difference.

"Why are you still here? What do you need?" I ask.

"Revenge!" he yells, but I can see his heart isn't really in it.

It's just what he thinks he should want, not what he truly wants or needs.

"Really?" I ask.

"No, not really," he says, raking his fingers through his rust-colored hair.

"I want my life back. I want to be able to experience all the things they are feeling. I died young. I..." he starts to say but stops himself abruptly.

"What?" I ask.

"Promise you won't laugh," he says, for the first time sounding timid.

"Of course not," I say.

"I've never kissed anyone," he blurts out.

Then puts a hand over his mouth.

All I can do is stare at him in shock. I might not have been into many relationships, but I had my first kiss before I was twenty-five. I was much younger.

"I never wanted to kiss any of the girls, and I was terrified of kissing a man, of confirming to everyone that I was gay. I guess, in the end, it didn't matter. They knew," he says.

"What's your name?" I ask abruptly.

"William, how about yours?" he asks.

"I am Hugo. When did you die?" I question.

"1950," he says.

"I see," I reply.

It explains why he never got the chance to have any romantic relationships with men. People at the time were often violent towards the LGBTQ+ community in our city.

"Well, William, I can tell you that I don't find it funny or odd that you didn't get to kiss anyone. At the time, it must have been extremely difficult to even look at men for fear of scrutiny. I understand why you've been cautious, and I am sorry you only got to experience the bitter side of life," I say.

He seems amazed as if no one had ever sympathized with him before, and I find that heartbreaking.

I can't understand how anyone could be cruel to William. He seems so kind. Well, when we exclude his little angry outburst, that was justified. I wish I could help him.

"Maybe your unfinished business has nothing to do with revenge. What if you are looking for all those things you never got to experience?" I ask.

"You might be right," he says, approaching me cautiously.

He slowly raises his hand and brings it as close to my cheek as possible without touching it. I feel a tingling sensation as he moves his hand as if stroking my cheek.

"I've never been this close to a man before," he says, his lips barely inches away from mine.

"Would you like to be closer?" I say, hypnotized by the burning desire in his eyes.

"Yes!" he exclaims.

"I mean, is that even possible?" he asks more calmly.

"I might be an ordinary exorcist, but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve, such as a spell that might make you temporarily corporeal," I say.

"Do it!" he says.

"Have in mind it'll last only for a few seconds, a minute at best," I say.

What I fail to mention is that it'll be very draining for me. Some even died attempting the same, but I know I am strong enough to survive.

"That's all the time I need. If you...ahem... If you don't mind me kissing you and...holding you," he says, lowering his gaze.

"Of course, I don't mind kissing a handsome guy," I say, smiling broadly.

The smile that brightens up his face is worth all the pain that I'll go through later.

"Okay, come closer. I will say one sentence, and it will make you instantly corporeal. I'm guessing you want to take advantage of every last second," I say.

He does as I say, his hand hovering over my cheek.

"As xanastrépsoume to somatikó gia ti stigmí pou epitrépetai apó ti dýnami ton kaloúnton." I say.

The moment I say it, I can feel William's warm hand stroking my cheek. Before I can register the sensation, his lips crush on mine hungrily. His hands go around my neck, and he's kissing me with unpracticed passion.

I put my hands around his hips, pulling him as close as possible. Then, I take over the kiss and show him what he had been missing.

A loud moan that escapes him is my reward. I am happy that I can make his first kiss a memorable one.

His hand strokes my hair while his other hand roams my back, and I give this poor broken boy all I've got.

All too soon, the sensations start to fade, but we hold on until the last moment. Until he is just thin air again.

"Wow, you sure know what you are doing," he says.

I grin at him doing my best to hide how exhausted I am.

"Wait. I think I see the light. There is someone in it. Maxime, the guy I liked. He is offering me his hand," he says.

"Go!" I say.

"Thank you, I'll never forget what you did for me," he says.

"No problem," I say, winking at him.

"Goodbye," he says, disappearing.

The moment he is gone, I try to drag myself back to the crowds, but I soon stumble and start falling down.

At the last moment, strong hands catch me from the embarrassing dive.

"I've been looking for you, my hero," he says.

The handsome stranger is holding me close, and I know I'll be just fine.

The fireworks and colorful confetti start falling all around us. It might be just the part of the Parade, but I believe it's the sparks flying between us.

His proximity lights up fires in my heart and body, and I know I will make a full recovery with him by my side.

Glossary: Epitrépste mou na syndethó me aftín tin psychí. Afíste ta mátia mou na doun ti den boreí na dei. Epitrépste mou na akoúso to poté den akoúo. - Let me connect with this soul. Let my eyes see what cannot be seen. Let me hear the never heard.

As xanastrépsoume to somatikó gia ti stigmí pou epitrépetai apó ti dýnami ton kaloúnton. -Let incorporeal be corporeal again for the moment allowed by the summoner's strength.