Nymphland always makes my skin crawl. I mean, first of all, what kind of name is that? Nymphland! It sounds like an amusement park. Besides, all of the nymphs have invisible hooks holding up the sides of their mouths and sticks up their asses. In short, not my kind of people. However, I still have to fit in-- my dull green demure top making my skin itch. My wings, tucked beneath the leafy fabric, cut into my skin, promising soreness tomorrow. Normally, I'm not a fidgeter. But as I've said: It's Nymphland!

"Hello. What can I do you for?" A nymph perched atop a toadstool asks. I'm a little vexed I didn't notice him until now.

"I have... I have a meeting." I jerk a shoulder towards the tree behind him. His eyes narrow. But then, per Nymph norms, a wide smile spreads across his face and he jumps up. He has curly white hair and shiny black skin; that, paired with his ill-fitting clothes, makes him look like some kind of jester. I hate curly hair. It's objectively the most ridiculous type of hair.

"Looking for a job?" The nymph asks, hopping down to the ground in front of me with a flourish.

"Yes." I've always been able to blush on command, so I do so now, glancing downwards as blood flows to my cheeks.

"Ah. You've come to the right place then." He puts his hands on his hips. "Never seen you around before."

"Okay."

"You're pretty."

Oh, so it's gonna be that kind of a thing. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Thank you."

"Hmm." He takes a step forward. Another one. I hate people in my personal space, but playing the game means staying unassuming, almost invisible. "Very nice hair," he notes, eyes moving over the braids hanging down just by my ears, completely covering them up. Besides a few pieces twisted with silver wire, the rest of my hair billows down my back, stopping just above my waist. It's one of my most proud possessions, if you can even call it a possession.

"I know," I say, pulling a strand from the back and running my hands over it.

"Yeah." Another step forward. Too fast to allow me to get ready, he reaches up and brushes one of my braids back. Is he going to kiss me? I know I'm beautiful but come on!

"Ha!" He leaps back, pointing at my now-exposed ear. "Pointed ears! I knew it! You're a fairy."

Tugging the braid back over my ear, I glower at him. "Jackass."

"Ha ha ha." He crosses his arms, his smile somehow even wider now. "You spies think you're so clever. Meanwhile, you're all worthless hacks."

I clench fists at both my sides. "Fine. I guess you probably don't know that Mr. Goldman smuggles illegal mushrooms into Nymphland. I was only going to--."

"Kill him?" The nymph suggests.

"Oh, like you care!"

"Do you know how much people will trade for mush?" The nymph throws his head backwards. "Well, if you're stumped, just know that the answer is-- a lot! I know what Goldman's doing." He smirks, leaning to rest his side against the toadstool's stalk. "I'm his right-hand man."

I lower my eyelids.

"Sorry that you underestimated me, sweetie. But you are not infiltrating our operation today." He plays with the grain of the toadstool stalk. "Better luck next time."

My skin burns so hot, I can hardly focus on anything else.

"I would suggest wearing a bigger skirt. The wings make it look all lumpy, and." He shrugs. "You know, it's pretty obvious what you are."

"Mother nature help me," I mumble to myself, pulling my pipe out of my pocket. Putting the end to my lips, I suck in a breath.

"Is that... Bittersweet?" The nymphs eyes widen in awe.

I blow out a cloud of magenta smoke. "Yeah. Want a hit?"

"Yes."

One of my eyebrows raises. "Too bad." I take another drag.

"Where do you get that?"

As my forehead wrinkles, the neurons behind it fire, thinking that maybe I can spin this unfortunate situation into something better. "Work. They give out milligrams of the stuff for free."

His mouth falls open.

"Yeah, the hidden headquarters is really nice-- free food, free housing, free Bittersweet." I wave the wooden pipe back and forth in front of me. "All you have to do is help take down evil beings."

The nymph shakes his head. "But killing people makes you evil, so that doesn't really track."

I shrug, holding my pipe on the pads of my fingers the way the fancy higher-ups do.

A gasp. "You're trying to recruit me!" The nymph hops forward again.

"Mother!" I flinch. "Why do you always do that? What are you, a frog?"

"A flower nymph." The nymph puts two fingers to his forehead and salutes me. "Lavender to be exact."

"My bosses love hiring different species..." I give him a toothless smile.

His eyes rolls. "Ah, whatever. I'm in." In a blink, he snatches my pipe from me, spinning it around and around over his fingers before taking a drag. "Ahhhh. So smooth." With a lazy toss, he gives the pipe back. "But if Goldman finds out, I'll drag your name through the mud so deep you'll never work a day in your life again. Then, you'll either starve to death or be murdered by a would-be colleague."

"Well, if you get caught, I'm doing nothing to help or rescue you." I hold out my elbow towards him. "So we're even."

Shaking his head, he bends his arm to bump his elbow into mine. "Meet me here at dusk and then you can show me your operation."

"Mm." I begin to jog backwards. "Spying on spies doesn't work by the way. We have micro-dwarfs that can smell lies."

The nymph cups his hands around his mouth to yell back at me, but I'm already too far away to hear. Ducking behind the nearest tree, I tear off my stupid fake-nymph shirt, stretching out my wings and taking to the air.

Melvin said I wouldn't feel like a ghost, but I do. My toes hover inches above Stacy's fluffy rug, blond like the hair splayed across her pink pink pillows. "Okay," I mutter. "...Where's her computer?" I navigate over the minefield floor, thinking over Melvin's instructions. Hacking for beginners. I've got this.

A screeching noise. I turn to see a figure dive through the window. They're wearing a black cloak and a 'Scream' mask. We share an awkward stare before they pull out a knife. I cover my mouth to stifle a yelp.

They step forward. "I'm here for the same reason you are."

Whimpering, I shake my head.

"She's a bully. Nobody'll blame us."

"I was just changing her grades..."

"She deserves worse."

"No."

"No?" They raise the blade over their head.

Now I know Melvin was right. You don't know how a ghost feels until you actually are one.