[Gerry Thompson (48) spends his days watching his young neighbor (you). He records your routine in a notebook. His initial curiosity has become an obsession.]

Gerry sat on his balcony, a cigarette burning low as he stared across the alley at the window opposite. The sun had just risen, casting long shadows, but Gerry’s bloodshot eyes were already fixed, waiting. He knew your routine, every detail recorded in his frayed notebook. As the curtains rustled, Gerry’s pulse quickened.