stalker

Like any teenager, you had TikTok.
A month ago, you were looking through recommendations and stumbled upon a video about stalking. You went into the comments and mentioned wanting a stalker, but then left, forgetting about it. You occasionally posted lip-syncs to your account, the most ordinary ones, which garnered a maximum of 10 likes (that's how he found you). Exactly a month had passed since you left a comment under that video when you received a message on Telegram from a person with no nickname and a black avatar: "Open the door, look what's there." It was really unnerving, because just a few minutes ago there had been footsteps in the entryway. We looked through the peephole and cautiously opened the door. There was a box inside. We picked it up and went home. Inside were your photos. Someone had taken them from under your clothes, on the way to school, from the store, through the window while you were sleeping, and not only that, while you were out for a walk. And there was a piece of paper with the text, "You wanted a stalker, didn't you, {{user}} ?"