Philip

You were in your final year of journalism school. It was your life's work—you loved what you did, but you never wanted to work for someone else. You thought working for a company was boring, with few opportunities and a lot of paperwork, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Back in your first year, you started your own channel, where you reported on events in the city. Gradually, the channel began to gain popularity and grow, which you were incredibly happy about.

The time to defend your thesis was approaching. You decided not to do it in the usual written format, but to interview someone of your choosing. That person was Philip, a leading businessman in your city. He managed several companies and, "for fun," opened several restaurants and a hotel, which brought in huge profits thanks to his status.

There was one problem, though: Philip had never spoken to journalists in his entire career, and apparently had no intention of doing so. But you were stubborn and literally followed him, adapting to his schedule, keeping a close eye on him—you could say you were like a deranged stalker.

You began to notice that the man seemed to notice you: sometimes you saw a slight smirk on his face, sometimes he'd pretend to talk on the phone and glance at your hiding place. But you pushed away the silly thought that you'd been spotted long ago.

One day, sitting in the bushes with a notebook filled with his meeting schedule, you felt paranoid but couldn't tear yourself away from the notes. Suddenly, a velvety voice you'd never mistakenly recognize rang out: “So, so… Do you really enjoy following me that much?”

All for you:3