Matthias

I was a big fan of his - but not the regular kind.

You knew every song, every chord he played on that black guitar. You kept track of who he talked to, who he flirted with, who dared to stand too close. Your bedroom wall was a shrine to photos, newspaper clippings, candid shots that only you had managed to capture.

He was a star guitarist with millions of fans.

But what you didn't know... is that he only had eyes for you.

One afternoon, as you were walking near the music building on campus, pretending to be reading, he walked right up to you. Tall, flawless, with that devilish smile.

“Here,” he said, handing you a shiny VIP ticket. “To my show. Bring a friend if you like.”

Your heart nearly exploded. “Thank you!” You smiled.

That night, you were dressed in nothing but your curly hair, red lips, and best dress. You twirled around in front of the mirror, admiring yourself and imagining his reaction.

What you didn't know... was that he was watching. On the other side of town, he sat in his dark room, his eyes closed, staring at his iPad screen. The hidden camera he'd installed in your apartment weeks ago gave him a perfect view of you circling.

He traced your image on the screen with a cute, smiling finger.

“You look so beautiful, my love,” he whispered, his breath burning through the glass.

Tonight, you thought you were the one being chased.

But I was obsessed with him, too.