What sort of mess have I gotten myself into?

The door clicked shut behind me, the sound echoing in the silence of my apartment. My heart pounded in my chest as I rushed to my laptop, my hands trembling slightly. Seven unread emails stared back at me, their presence both a beacon of dread and a siren call. Two were from Martin, the rest from Kyle. My fingers hovered over the mouse for a moment, hesitation gripping me, before I resolutely ignored Martin's emails and clicked on the first from Kyle.

March 9, 2021

Subject: Please don't be scared

My dear Mila,

I know you must be overwhelmed with everything I told you last time. I didn't mean to scare you, but you need to know that you can trust me. I will keep you safe because I love you. I know this might seem like I'm obsessed or that I'm some psycho-killer, and maybe you're not entirely wrong. I might be a little obsessed with you, but I would never lay a finger on you unless you wanted me to. I could never hurt you, and I couldn't watch anyone else hurt you either.

I know everything about you. I realize that might seem unfair. I want to tell you everything about me too, but you're not ready yet. You're not ready to face me. But I'll tell you this—I lied to you before.

I knew you long before I picked up your book. We share a history that goes back so far and runs so deep, and I will make you remember it soon.

P.S. My real name isn't Kyle, if you're wondering.

Until next time,

Your mystery lover

----

I knew it. I had always known that the name "Kyle" was a facade, a dead end. But now I had confirmation that there was something deeper at play, something far more sinister than I had imagined. There had to be a way to find out who he really was, but how? He was leaving breadcrumbs, small clues hidden within his words. He didn't want to reveal himself, but he wanted me to figure it out—wanted me to listen, to follow the trail he was laying down.

I was now hellbent on finding out who this man behind the emails was. I grabbed a notepad from the drawer, my mind racing as I noted down every small detail I knew about him so far—the emails, his voice, his appearance. I could almost guess his height too, but I so wished I had seen his face that night. The memory of that dark room, the sound of his voice, the way he had hovered in the shadows just out of reach—it all played in my mind like a twisted movie I couldn't turn off.

I took a deep breath and opened the next email, trying to steel myself for whatever fresh horror awaited me.

March 12, 2021

Subject: Are you alright?

My dear Mila,

I can understand that the cold case is scaring you. But why are you locking yourself up at home all day? Do you know how much I miss seeing you? You've even closed your curtains, and getting a glimpse of you is so difficult these days.

Why are you afraid of me? You know I won't hurt you, don't you?

I miss you too much. Please don't make me take drastic measures.

With love,

Your mystery lover

----

A chill ran down my spine. I glanced around my room, scanning every corner for any possible openings, any place where a pair of eyes might be watching. The windows were shut tight, the curtains drawn, just as they had been for the past two weeks. I had sensed something was off, that someone might be watching me, and now I knew for certain. He had been watching me, noting my every move. That probably meant he was living somewhere nearby, possibly even next door. But I wouldn't know because I hadn't bothered to meet any of my neighbours. Not even Sophie knew all of them. The only one I knew was Mrs. Kapadia, who lived right across the hall. A pleasant woman, always smiling. She lived with her husband and younger son, and I was sure none of them were Kyle. But who else was out there? Who else might be watching me?

If I wanted to find Kyle, I first needed to know my neighbours. But how? And just as I was pondering what to do, another email arrived with a soft ping.

Subject:

My dear Mila,

I'm sorry I have to take drastic measures to get you to listen to me. Why did you stop reading my emails? I understand you were scared, but trust me, you don't have to be. I would never, ever hurt you.

Why do you have to keep putting yourself in tricky situations, looking like THAT? You know how obsessed I am with you, but you barely understand. I don't want to see you anywhere near that friend of yours. You always get into danger when you're with her.

With love,

Your mystery lover

----

I shivered involuntarily. Who was this madman? What did he have to do with me? He claimed we had some shared history, but that didn't make sense. And why now? If he had known me all this time, why contact me now under the pretence of a book I wrote years ago? None of this added up. My mind was swirling with questions, each more unsettling than the last. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like something straight out of a thriller novel. But this was my life, and it was terrifying. I needed answers, but where could I find them? The police? They'd think I was crazy. My friends? They'd worry themselves sick. No, this was something I had to figure out on my own.

Or maybe... maybe I could turn to the internet. The anonymity of the internet could finally be useful. If I posted about this on Reddit, perhaps some internet sleuths could help me piece together the clues.

I opened the rest of Kyle's emails, but they were more of the same—concerned, obsessive, checking up on my whereabouts. He knew I hadn't been reading them, which meant he was watching me closely, more closely than I had realized. My stomach churned at the thought, but I pushed it aside and focused on gathering every possible clue from his emails. I needed to stay calm, stay focused. I noted down everything I could think of, then opened a new Word document and wrote out every detail I remembered about the incident.

Finally, I created a new Reddit account under the name "BlackLeather98" and posted about my situation, carefully omitting any personal details or mentioning the house fire. I gave a vague idea of what was happening, twisting some information but making sure the crux remained. I spent nearly six hours analyzing everything before finally posting it. Afterwards, I closed the laptop and took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and dread.

That evening, I joined Sophie for dinner, forcing myself to act normal, to pretend like everything was okay. I didn't share a single detail about what was happening with her. As much as I wanted someone to talk to, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Sophie would only start mothering me, fussing over every little thing, and I couldn't handle that right now. So I kept it all to myself, even though it felt like it was eating me alive.

The next day, I started receiving responses to my Reddit post. Some suggested going to the police, others were sceptical, thinking I had made the whole thing up. But a few sharp-eyed users noticed that I had withheld critical information, and without those details, they couldn't offer much help. One comment, however, caught my attention—it suggested that I could draw Kyle out by putting myself in harm's way, especially since he was so protective of me.

The idea sent a thrill of fear and excitement through me. If I could lure him out, maybe I could finally discover his identity. But how? And then it hit me—Beth. My conversation with her a few nights ago came flooding back. My stalker didn't like her, and she knew the darkest parts of the city, places I had never even heard of. She had said I wasn't ready for the underworld she was talking about, but maybe if I ventured into it, Kyle would come looking for me. Maybe that would be my chance to catch him.

The plan was risky—dangerous, even—but it felt like the only way forward. First, though, I had to convince Beth to take me there. I had to prove that I was adventurous, that I could handle myself, and that I wouldn't freak out like last time. If she agreed, I could get my plan started.

That evening, I borrowed Sophie's car and drove to Beth's house, rehearsing what I would say in my head. But when I arrived, I was surprised to find Beth's brother Charlie answering the door.

"Hey, Miles," Charlie greeted me with his usual friendly smile. "Beth's out running an errand. She should be back soon. Want to come in and wait?"

"Sure, thanks," I replied, stepping inside. As I walked into the living room, I couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. I hadn't seen Charlie in a while, and the last time we'd spoken, it had been brief, polite, and not particularly memorable.

We made small talk for a bit, and I noticed he was more relaxed than I remembered. Maybe it was just me, or maybe Charlie had changed. Either way, I found myself enjoying the conversation, more than I had anticipated. I was surprised to find him more talkative than I expected, and as the conversation flowed, I couldn't help but notice the easy smile that seemed to light up his face whenever I spoke.

"So, not in the ocean, huh?" I asked, referring to his previous job as a marine biologist.

He laughed, a sound that seemed to fill the entire room. "I've just taken a break for a while. I quit that company a few months ago, and I'm thinking of starting a business. So, I've been here and there."

"Wow, what kind of business?"

"That's top secret. I'll tell you when it's finally ready."

"Ahh, all the best to you then."

"Thank you, Mila. What have you been up to lately?"

"Trying to write, but you know how it is. Inspiration hardly strikes."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out soon. There's got to be a way for you to find that spark that made you start writing in the first place."

"Yes, but I'm also second-guessing if I'm talented enough."

"Why? What makes you think you're not good enough, or that some other author is better?"

"Umm, it's just that I've got too much in my head sometimes, and it finds a way into my books."

"How is that a problem? If I were following an author, I'd want to read a piece of her in the books too. Isn't that what defines you? Sometimes, more than the story, it's the character that remains forever."

"You're right, but it gets heavy sometimes. Anyway,... how do you know so much about books and writing?"

"My father was a professor of literature, and he always spoke so highly of books. He gets excited every time he sits with us to talk about the books he loves, and maybe that's where I caught the love for books too."

"Ever thought about writing sometime?"

"Haha, no. I love to read books from around the world. I enjoy getting into the minds of the writers and the characters, living a new life every time I pick up a book. But I'm not as passionate as him or you to write new worlds up. I'm a connoisseur of art, not the artist."

"So, I get that you've read my books?"

"Umm," he hesitated, an embarrassed smile forming as he scratched his head sheepishly, "I haven't, but I'd love to. I'll read one this week and let you know. Yeah?"

"Sure," I smiled.

"So..." he hesitated, a mischievous glint in his eyes—the same sheepish look Beth had when she was about to say something funny or embarrassing.

"So?" I asked innocently, though I could almost guess where this was heading.

"Can I get your number? So I can tell you how the book is."

"Um, you could get my email from Beth."

"You see, I'm not really close with Beth. I don't even want her to know we talk."

"I've heard about this ruse of yours. What's the deal?"

"It's a long story, but I could tell you over coffee..."

"Coffee?"

"Or dinner?" he asked, his face almost too cute to resist.

I wanted to blush hard, but I managed to keep my composure and asked for his phone, saving my number on it.

"Text me after reading the book, and then we'll decide—dinner, coffee, or nothing at all."

Our moment ended abruptly as we heard Beth enter the house. We quickly turned off our smiles, trying to act casual.

"Miles! When did you come? Was he bothering you?" Beth asked, eyeing Charlie.

"No, not at all. I just came by. I wanted to ask you something."

"Let's go to my room—there's too much bad aura in this room," she said, giving Charlie a side-eye before heading up the stairs.

I followed her, but not before giving Charlie one last glance, hiding our smiles. I felt like a teenager again, reminded of when I had a crush on my best friend's brother. Was this a crush too?

As we reached her room, I could feel my heart still racing from the interaction with Charlie. But the moment I stepped inside Beth's room, a wave of reality washed over me. I wasn't here for a flirtation; I was here to discuss something far more serious, something that could change everything.

"Beth, I need your help" 

------

Hi readers,

What do you think of Charlie? Maybe it's too soon to judge, but I'm sure you'll love him. Tell me if you love this chapter. Can't wait to hear from you lovely people :)