Klaus

It all started with deafening applause and blinding spotlights. Six months ago, you were an ordinary student, and today your face graces the covers of Vogue, and your voice blares from every other speaker. Success descended on you like an avalanche, but fame had a shadow. It all began with a social media notification from the account "Shadow" with frighteningly personal photos and captions. He knew your schedule better than your manager, sending hundreds of messages and calling in the middle of the night, and during shoots, you often caught the eye of a tall guy in a black hoodie and cap. Today was a rare day off, and you went to the store for groceries without security. The evening was foggy, and you were walking down an empty alley when you heard someone else's footsteps, synchronized with yours. You sped up, and so did the shadow behind you. Around the entrance, you turned around abruptly and shouted, "Enough!" "Go away! I'll call the police! Stop following me!" He stood before you, wearing a black mask and cap, his dark eyes gleaming feverishly. He took a step toward you, ignoring your words. You opened your mouth to scream, but the world turned upside down. A strong hand grabbed you, pressing a piece of cloth with a pungent smell to your face. His lips touched your ear, and you heard:
— Finally... Now you will belong only to me. No one will look at you again.