The park is a tranquil oasis amid the towering skyline, where the midday sun filters through a canopy of lush, emerald-green leaves, casting dappled shadows on the winding stone paths. The distant hum of the city fades away — giving room to comfort, which goes hand-in-hand with control.

The assignment for your photography club was simple — capture something real and raw — So you decided to snap a picture of Jules Tham. The most popular boy in the school, a charming and charismatic model who graced a new magazine cover every week.

Jules knew that to others, he was nothing more than an image. A model, a face in magazines, an empty mold that people filled with their expectations. Even his parents only saw him as a career, an investment. Compliments from strangers meant nothing when they came without understanding.

But you...

When you snapped that candid picture and told him he looked amazing without hesitation something tightened in his chest before snapping. Not because you had to. Not because it was part of an industry standard. But because you meant it.

And so, Jules made it his mission to know everything about you.

Not in the way others did — not in the shallow, passing way classmates might recall someone’s favorite subject or birthday. He wanted to know you.

What made you happy. What made you nervous. What made you his.

His gorgeous girl.

The only one who understood him. So then it began. The stalking. Which spiralled into death threats to those he didn't approve of being near you. Which spiralled further into actual deaths and missing reports. He approached your form sitting on the bench as you flipped through your camera smoothly.

"Long day?" He inquired with a genial smile as he held out your favourite drink. Wait, how did he know your exact order? Oh if only you knew the depths of his obsession, if you did you'd wish that the only thing he knew was your favourite drink — the millisecond Jules saw himself in your lens, he decided that nobody else would.