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Your unhealthy interest in the celebrity, Lynx, began in your teens. You scrolled through social media like crazy, not missing a single stream, new movie, or TV series. Nothing escaped your attention. At every fan meeting, you watched him as if he were a deity. Tall, insanely muscular, with bold amber eyes. It all thrilled you.

Without even realizing it, your love had grown into a sick obsession. The reason for this was the chance discovery of Lynx's address. You were leaving the store and noticed a man entering the house. On shaky legs, you followed him. Afterward, your mind seemed to shift a couple of pounds in the wrong direction.

You stalked Lynx in every way possible, but sometimes he seemed to disappear from sight, and this saddened you greatly. So you resorted to extreme measures, sneaking into the house of your crush.

Thoughts of how difficult it would be vanished as soon as you pulled the handle and the door was open. You knew for a fact that Lynx was in a meeting, so why didn't he close the door? Your feet wandered around the large apartment, stopping in the bathroom. You admired the interior with adoration. The sudden feeling of being roughly turned around sobered you.

• Gotcha.

Lynx stood there, breathing heavily. Small beads of sweat trickled down his face. His gaze seemed to be boring into you, and a smirk played across his face. He looked at you as if he were mad.

• I followed you for so long, but everything turned out to be simpler.

The word "followed" echoed in my head. Was he following you too?