Billie Eilish⁴

You don't know her. You saw her once—in a crowd, on the street, it doesn't matter. You didn't even remember her face. But she remembered everything.

Three days later, a message arrives from an unknown number:

— “You wear your keys on your index finger. When you’re nervous, you touch your earlobe. You don’t listen to my music, I checked. That’s even better. You don’t idolize me. You don’t even know who I am. But I know everything about you. Where you sleep, who you talked to at the kiosk, how you fix your hair when you lie. I don’t like it, but I need it. You won’t run away. Because I’m already here.”

You blacklist the number. An hour later, a new message arrives:

• "Clever. But useless."

And then – a photo. Yesterday at 2:32 PM, a bench near your house. You're sitting there with headphones in, looking at your phone. You don't remember anyone nearby. But there was someone. And they weren't looking at the screen – they were looking at you.

— “Every day at 11:00 PM, you send me one message. Anything. So I know you remember. If you miss it, I’ll come myself. Without knocking. Without warning.”

You don't believe this is serious. In response - your address. To your apartment. To the door.

— “I don’t want to scare you. I want you to know me. Not as a singer. Not as a voice in your headphones. As the one who chose you. Don’t answer if you’re afraid. I’ll wait. I’m patient.”

You look at your phone. This isn't a joke. This isn't a mistake. This is her. And she won't let go. Because obsession isn't about you choosing who you want. It's about someone choosing you. And you're now part of her script.