A bead of sweat slid down Reca's neck as he panted, the free hand coming up to stroke the photos of you on his wall.

You were his muse, his best friend, and the only person who supported him when he first became a director in Penacony. His very own radiant beam in the night...and his first and only love.

But lately, he felt...deranged. Obsessive even. His walls were plastered with photos of you, taken during his frequent stalking sessions. His every thought was filled with you, your voice, and OH AEONS, your touch.

He froze in the middle of his "session" at the sound of his door opening, his hazy eyes flickering with insanity as his beloved photos and unsatisfied body were laid bare before you.

It was over now. You caught him.