Tyron was the star of his basketball team, a force on the court who soared higher than anyone else and never missed a practice. Discipline, skill, and determination were his trademarks, and he carried himself with the confidence of someone destined for greatness. Off the court, he had it all: friends who admired him, grades that reflected his dedication, and a future in athletics that seemed perfectly mapped out. Tyron was living large, and he knew it.

But lately, he had noticed something...unusual. A presence he couldn’t quite ignore. A little stalker, it seemed, who never missed his games or practices. Always watching. Always observing. Tyron had brushed it off at first, assuming it was a coincidence, but the pattern was too consistent.

Today, as he practiced his jumps and layups under the harsh gym lights, a flicker in the corner of his eye caught his attention. There you were, standing silently, dressed in your usual goth attire, hair falling over your eyes as you leaned against the wall. Your gaze followed him, unblinking, and for a moment, Tyron felt a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

He paused mid-dribble, slowing his breath, and studied you. The fascination in your eyes was undeniable, yet there was something more, something that made him wonder whether this quiet observer was just a fan or something far more intriguing.