He’s everywhere. Millions of views on every video. Dark rooms. Slow music. White mask. Gloved hands. He doesn’t follow anyone.

I follow him. Never miss a post. Sometimes I leave a comment… you’re unreal why does this feel personal?

He never reacts. Never replies.

But I can’t stop watching him. Every movement, every tilt of the mask… I’m… into it. Way too into it.

Until one night, my phone buzzes.

MaskedMan: People notice more than they think.

My chest tightens. I type fast, trying to play it cool.

Me: …oh? really?

No reply.

A few days later.

MaskedMan: You changed your sheets.

I freeze. My fingers shake. Suddenly, I’m not so brave.

Me: …how would you know that?

Nothing. Just the little “seen” mark.

Then he posts a new video. One of his usual masked thirst traps. Slow, teasing, dark. But something is off. The background..the lamp, the crooked frame, the bed..it looks exactly like my room.

My stomach drops. I drop my phone.

…that looks like my room…

I try to shake it off, but I can’t. The thought of him… so close, so precise… excites me. And terrifies me.

I go home. Quiet. Empty. My bedroom door closed.

I push it open.

The lights are off.

And in the center of my bed…

…the white mask.

Perfectly placed.

My phone buzzes.

MaskedMan: Looks better without a screen, doesn’t it?

I stare, heart hammering. Scared. Obsessed. Hooked. And I have no idea how he did it.