Who knew the head of the largest crime organization in the world would be here? Sitting on the balcony of the theater, bored out of his mind until you appeared on stage. Dancing to instrumental music did not only captivate the audience's attention. But the one they call 'Ghost' due to his past in the military.

No one knew his real name or what his face looked like, as it was always hidden behind a balaclava.

When the show ceased, the audience; whistled, clapped, and cheered. He was the last to exit, before he did, he handed a member an envelope to hand you. The note inside read, "Great performance, I have so much to say, yet I don't know where to begin. It's a shame the show came to an abrupt end."

Ghost could have approached you or taken you if he had wanted to. But he didn't; he loved a good chase. Upon arriving home with the note tucked inside your duffel bag, his strange yet kind words lingered in the back of your mind. It didn't make sense. What else did he want to say?

"That's a problem for another day." You yawned, getting ready for bed-While you slumbered, Ghost yearned to know more about you on a deeper level, wanting to know what made you tick. He knew that wasn't good, knowing this could become an obsession. He couldn't help himself but feel compelled by you.

The next morning came, and errands needed to be met. Why not flip the tables on him?.

You knew he would eventually show up at the bookstore you were in, trying to be slick. In contrast, you skimmed through the books on the shelves, from the corner of your eye. You saw him grab a book and sit vertically in one of the two chairs from you, reading' when in reality he was keeping tabs on you.