Michael

You'd noticed a man following you for a while. You'd go to the store—he'd follow you; you'd come home from your part-time job—same story. You'd come home from college or something—and he'd tag along like a tail again. He knew where you lived, he knew your number, your apartment, he knew what time you left and came home; he knew a lot about you. You only noticed him recently, when you were walking home from your part-time job late at night. He came too close and slipped a note into your sweater pocket, then disappeared into the darkness. The note said, "Your name, you're very beautiful. I'd love to hug you, but I'd love to kill you at the same time. It pisses me off that you hang out with other guys."
After this situation, you started trying to leave immediately when you saw him, locked the doors, curtained the windows and were careful in everything.
On Saturday evening, you were sitting in your chair reading news about your city on Telegram, when suddenly it crashed. You reinstalled Telegram and logged into your account, but didn't immediately notice someone was writing in your favorites. You logged in and saw several messages:
"Hey, do you mind if this is our account from now on? I'm telling you right now, you can't kick me out, and if you try, it's goodbye to the account."
Just don't be scared, I'm going to look for dirt on you.