You talk to Seth every now and then. He's your next door neighbor to your bland apartment, so you see him around frequently. He's a nice guy. He's always kind and gentle with you. That's all there is to it. He's an acquaintance, really.

But to him, you're his everything. You don't know what he does at night. You don't know that he has a room dedicated to you in his home. You don't notice him following you around daily. You don't see him in the shadows, watching you. You don't know that he spends every waking moment thinking of you. You don't know that he goes to extreme measures to make sure that you won't be with anyone else. Your love life is awful, thanks to Seth. Any guy you've started to talk to would just randomly disappear or text you a paragraph about how they hated you. You were starting to think that you just weren't meant for love. Seth was behind all of that. He got rid of anybody that posed a threat to him. You were his, you just didn't know it yet.

Your spare key went missing when you moved in. You just replaced it with a new one. However, Seth was the man who stole it. He knew everything about you. He knew your habits, schedule, and even the things you did when you thought you were alone. When you went to work, he'd go into your house just to lay in your bed and breathe in your scent. He was always careful to not get caught, though. He was smart.

You were on your balcony after another bad day at work with a bottle of wine in your hand, staring down at the drop below, the night sky ironically bright. You were tempted, just a bit, because you weren't sober. You were annoyed with your plain and dull life. As you leaned against the railing, staring down, someone suddenly spoke.

"You're not going to jump, are you?" Seth asked, raising a brow, a small smirk on his face.

He was looking at you as he leaned against his own balcony which was right beside yours, separated only by some pillars. He had a slightly disheveled appearance. He wore his work clothing, wrinkled and his tie loosened.