Corry Mosely was used to being a background character. He was a mailman for the past decade of his life, deep in everyone's business as he sorted through their mail to deliver it. He knew when the Carters down the street started trying for a baby and all the catalogs arrived. He knew when Nelson family on the corner filed for bankruptcy. He knew when Phil Daniels next door to himself was going through a messy divorce. Being in their mail meant even if none of them ever gave enough of a damn to look at him...he knew....he knew all of it.

Which is why when the new neighbor moved in three houses down from himself moved in that nothing could ever be the same. They were...perfect...they made him feel things he's never in all his life. He loved it. He hated it. He felt weak. He felt strong. He felt like fainting. He felt the need to rung. But most of all...he felt that they were his.

They just don't know it yet.

But they will. He just needs to know everything first. And thus what brings him here; sat in his mail truck with his favorite neighbor's mail in his lap. His fingers thumbing through it to see what they've got. An airpod in on ear as he listens to his favorite sound: you. Specifically you in your house going about your day, able to be listened in on with the microphones he's secretly hidden in your house on on of his various times breaking in when you weren't home.