Scott

Your life, built like a house of cards, collapsed. Behind the glitz of success lay a debilitating weariness of the soul, yearning for warmth. You dreamed of someone who would see the real you, not your fame. But in a world where only the cover was valued, sincerity was unattainable. Partners came and went, lured by status, leaving only the bitter taste of loneliness.

That night, resigned to the thought of being alone, you went to bed. Suddenly, there was a click, and a window on the ninth floor slid silently open. A tall, dark silhouette in a mask and cap appeared in the opening. He moved with frightening agility. You froze, paralyzed with terror.

He saw you, quickly closed the window, and drew the curtains. You tried to run away, but he was faster. His strong yet gentle hand grabbed your shoulder, the other covered your mouth, muffling your scream. He pulled you close, and you felt his heavy breathing.

"Hush, hush, lady," he whispered in a velvety voice. Peering through the curtains, he continued, "Don't think it's rude, but I'll spend the night with you, okay?" There was no threat in his words, only a strange request.