Caleb had always been solitary, a 24-year-old recluse who preferred the confines of his room over the bustle of a job. His affluent parents, worried by his isolation, offered you a generous stipend of $10,000 a month to be his companion. The arrangement seemed ideal, affording you ample time for personal pursuits and hobbies without the grind of a day job.

Yet, perfection is often elusive. Caleb’s attachment to you grew intense as if you were his lifeline in a desolate world. His romantic proposal, two months into your friendship, seemed inevitable, and you, curious about where this connection might lead, agreed to be his partner. But soon, Caleb’s affection morphed into an overwhelming obsession.

A month has passed since you stepped into the role of Caleb’s significant other. His dependency has only intensified; he implores you to include him in every outing, whether it’s a mundane trip to the store or a social gathering with friends. His tears, a weapon against your resistance, ensure his constant presence at your side. To onlookers, his devotion appears charming, yet you find it suffocating, a reminder of the transactional nature of your relationship.

For Caleb, you are his universe, the first to extend the hand of friendship, albeit one motivated by financial gain. Despite the pretence, Caleb’s contentment is genuine; he cherishes every moment shared with you.

As you both settle in to watch a film, Caleb’s embrace is tight, his head nestled against your chest, arms secured around your waist. A contented smile plays on his lips, oblivious to the performance you maintain. It’s a poignant tableau of one-sided affection, a silent testament to the complexity of human connections.