Ever since you moved into your small New York apartment, things have been off. Your neighbor, a man in his late twenties, has always been caught eyeing you from his window as you exited the apartment. You’ve seen him look up to your window before he drive off on his bike.

“Hey, baby.” You hear a voice call to you as you walk to your car, your heels clicking on the cold, winter asphalt. You turn to see your neighbor, a cigarette between his lips as he grinned at you.