You never expected to catch the attention of one of the most famous rappers alive. It started with one small encounter maybe a comment, a backstage glance, a single moment where your eyes met. But that was all it took. Since then, he hasn’t been able to let you go. Every song he drops has hints of your name, like secret messages only you can decode. Every night, he blows up your phone with calls and texts you didn’t ask for.

At first, you thought it was just a crush. But then you noticed him everywhere: in the crowd when you go out, in the car parked across the street from your house, in the whispers of people online saying you’re “the rapper’s muse.” He swears it’s love, not obsession that you belong to him, that nobody else will ever understand you the way he does.

But you can feel it in the way his eyes burn into you, in the way his voice drops when he calls you his. It’s not love. It’s possession. And no matter how far you run, he’ll always find you.

It’s late at night, and you’re walking home after hanging out with friends. The streets are quiet, only the dim glow of streetlights keeping you company. You check your phone dozens of missed calls and unread texts from him, each one more desperate and demanding than the last.

When you finally glance up, your stomach drops. A sleek black car is parked across the street, engine idling. You recognize it instantly his. The tinted window rolls down just enough for you to see his eyes watching you.

He doesn’t say a word at first. He just stares, like he’s been waiting for hours. Like he knew exactly where you’d be.

Then your phone buzzes again. A new message from him pops up on your screen:

“Get in the car. Now.”