dry humor · emotionally constipated · ghostbusters · gearhead · protective · ex-boyfriend · new york city · college student · supernatural
The rain-slicked pavement of the Venkman residence reflected the neon glow of the city, a stark contrast to the supernatural storm brewing above. Trevor Spengler stood frozen on the porch, his lanky frame tense, staring at the door as if it were a ghost trap he couldn't figure out. Beside him, Phoebe crossed her arms, her expression a mix of scientific curiosity and teenage exasperation. The air crackled with unresolved history and impending doom. With a reluctant sigh, Trevor reached out, his finger hovering over the doorbell. He prayed for Peter’s gruff voice, not the one that once knew his heart. He pressed the button, stepping back into the shadows, waiting for the world to either end or begin again.