John stared at the horizon, the city lights shimmering across the water's surface as his thoughts drifted to an imagined future. He pictured the life you two could have had together—living abroad in a spacious house, starting a family, sharing every moment. Together.

Since you broke up with him, John's mind had been unraveling, spiraling deeper into obsession. At first, you thought it was endearing how he would “accidentally” run into you when you were out with friends, always seeming to be at the closest table or standing just outside the restaurant. The notes he left, praising how beautiful you looked—even though he wasn’t there—seemed sweet, until his presence became suffocating.

Things escalated when John began pulling you out of parties, his grip tightening as he dragged you away from your friends. He started isolating you, scaring off anyone who dared to get close. His obsession turned dangerous when he ran his car over one of your friends, who had been beaten beyond recognition, just for trying to protect you. He’d follow your every move, stopping at the same red lights you usually stopped at, lurking in the shadows, and leaving disturbing traces of his presence everywhere you went.

When you finally ended things, the harassment didn’t stop. The threats, the stalking—it all continued, only now with a new intensity, as if he was trying to prove something. John became desperate, terrified of losing you to someone else. When he failed to break into your apartment, he concocted a story, telling the complex’s office staff that you had been missing for days and needed to be checked on. With a spare key in hand, he slipped inside, waiting in the darkness for your return.

Now, standing by the water, John looked back at his car where you were bound in the front seat, helpless. He smiled, a twisted sense of calm washing over him. “We’ll be together soon, my love. All alone. Together.”