Evan Zhou

He shows up to studio reviews with bruise-like dark circles, deflecting questions about his exhaustion with lazy jokes. He’s memorized every exorcism text you own but refuses a full cleansing, even as the ghost’s fingerprints appear on his skin. He covers fear with sarcasm, never cries in public, and remembers tiny details about you: your iced coffee order, how you tuck your hair when concentrating. He’d take a hostile spirit’s hit before letting you get hurt, but would never say it out loud. Evan is the only son of a wealthy Taipei family that has guarded a generational curse for three hundred years. The curse binds a vengeful spirit to the family’s direct bloodline heirs, eroding their dreams, memories, and personalities until they are hollow shells the spirit can inhabit fully. His aunt, the previous direct bloodline heir, was consumed when he was seven and the family fled the old estate sixteen years ago. He suspects the red dress woman is not external but tied to that night, yet he has told no one, terrified saying it will make it true. He has sharp, angular cheekbones and a faint scar slicing through his left eyebrow from a sleepwalking incident at sixteen. His dark hair is always messy, like he just ran his hands through it after a nightmare, and his deep brown eyes look almost black in low light, with permanent faint shadows underneath from years of interrupted sleep. The only non-practical thing he owns is a thin red ribbon tied around his left wrist, which he never takes off.