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The Muse a turn of his head might reveal who he is—but he remains still, his gaze suddenly locking with mine in an almost provocative manner. Even from a distance, I can feel the intensity of his stare, as if he’s challenging me to look away. I notice the corners of his eyes crinkle, hinting at a smile hidden beneath the fabric of his hooded sweatshirt, causing my breath to hitch unexpectedly.

I can’t tear my eyes away from him; in fact, I don’t want to, and I don’t know why. He carries an air of intrigue that pulls me closer, though I can’t define its source. He’s enigmatic and captivating, with a demeanor that’s radiating confidence and an odd intimidation, even though all I can see are his piercing eyes. His stance is intriguing, reminiscent of someone in the military—strong, poised, and commanding. Yet, beneath that exterior lurks a hint of something secretive, a glimmer just beneath the surface of his dark, dilated pupils.

I’m aware that most people wouldn’t notice, but I can read him like a book, a skill I owe to all those extra credit psych classes I took in high school.

But why can’t I look away?

I want to know more about him, yet I can’t quite grasp why—he’s not mine. I don’t even know his name. He belongs to Carli, after all, so why am I caught in this intense stare-off with him?

Our gazes remain locked, and then, with a subtle wink, he offers another hint of a smile—challenging, almost—that deepens the lines around his eyes.

Just behind him, a sleek black Mercedes pulls up to the curb, and the passenger window rolls down. An arm clothed in a black sweatshirt gestures for him to come on. Remarkably, he doesn’t turn around; he walks backward, maintaining eye contact as he steps toward the vehicle, also refusing to look away.

Why, though?

The Mercedes has at least two other people inside, but as the back door opens, I catch a glimpse of another man seated inside. Four of them now, including the one in the blood-red sweatshirt who can’t take his eyes off of mine.

Still gazing at me, as if equally entranced, he moves to enter the car, lowering himself inside just as the back window rolls down. My heart races, the moment between us pulsating with unspoken energy. He sits, and as the door shuts, he leans into the window, eyes still riveted to mine, maintaining that electrifying connection even as the car slowly pulls away from the curb.

I’m left standing at the window, unable to move, my mind racing long after the Mercedes has vanished from sight.

What the fuck was that about? Why the hell did he stare at me for so long? And in the way he did? I should’ve looked away when our eyes first met. But for some reason, I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have provoked him, especially not knowing anything about him except that he’s dating my roommate.

Fuck, is he going to tell Carli that I was the one watching him, painting me as the creep ?

Finally coming back to reality, I step away from the window, struggling to swallow the lump in my throat, the whirlwind of uncertainty leaving me breathless. I drop the blinds and twist the wand to close them, putting up a temporary shield from the rest of the outside world—the scary, intimidating unknown. And while I still have no idea what just happened, there is one thing I’m quite certain of—I’ll be asking Melanie if she has a room so I can move in with her.

I take a deep breath, still feeling the phantom warmth of the stranger’s gaze, as if it had seared itself into my memory. The rain outside beats on, echoing in the silence of the room, and I turn my back to the window, trying to push the strange encounter from my mind.

I need a fucking distraction.

Without thinking, I move toward the small kitchenette, finding comfort in the simple act of making a cup of coffee. As the Keurig begins to hum, I grab a mug from the shelf, feeling the cool ceramic against my palm.

But even on the third floor, with all the blinds and curtains closed, I can’t shake the sensation of eyes on me—the unnerving feeling that I’m being watched. It’s not the crazy part of me seeping out; I took my medication, but maybe I need more.

Moments later, my phone buzzes, snapping me back to the present moment; it’s another text from Carli.

Sorry about that surprise... He’s close friends with my brother. You’ll like him.

I’m slow to respond, frustration seeping back in. How could she think I’d be okay with being alone with a strange man in the apartment? Especially when I wasn’t warned ahead of time he’d be here.

I told Carli and Melanie a few nights after I met them—we were tripping on E—why I am the way I am, especially around guys. I didn’t go into too much detail, but enough so they know that I was assaulted and stalked, and the guy was never caught.

Carli, you can’t just leave strange men here and not tell me. What happened to not having random guys over? Or fuck, at least you could’ve warned me that he was here so I knew.

Trust me, I was just as surprised when I bumped into him, and with all the excitement from the night, I completely spaced telling you. I’m wicked sorry for that. But he’s wicked cool and safe to be around; you’ll understand when you meet him!

I groan, leaning against the counter, the coffee pot now making loud noises as the rest of the water’s sucked out, coffee dripping into my cup. I pour the chilled cream into the cup, watching the air bubbles dance in the liquid as I struggle to process my conflicted emotions.

What did she mean I’d understand?

As I sip my coffee, my insides warming up, still lost in thought, something in the back of my mind clicks. What if the man in the red hoodie had a connection to the unsolved murders? The eerie coincidence gnaws at me, and as I walk back over to the same window, I set the cup down, anxiety flooding my system. I twist open the blind to open each row, but I never fully pull it up.

I nervously glance through the glass again, almost expecting to see him there still—waiting, watching. But the sidewalk is empty, and in the street, the traffic is growing heavy with everyone on their way home from work.

A sudden banging noise breaks the silence, startling me. I jump and rush to the door, heart pounding as I grasp the doorknob. The world outside the peephole looks painted in blurry shades of gray and uncertainty.

“Carli?” I call, unsure if she’s back early or if something else entirely awaits me on the other side.

Nothing. Just the sound of the rain, relentless and unyielding as it whips against the windows .

Taking a deep breath, I pull open the door, peering into the dim hallway. It’s empty, eerily quiet except for the distant sound of thunder and faint noises from inside the other apartments near me.

Deciding to distract myself further, I walk away from the door after locking it, pick my coffee back up, and then plop down on the couch again, trying to pick back up where I left off with my paper. But the words swim together in front of my eyes, blurring like the rain outside, and I can’t seem to piece anything useful together—not with the current events still fresh in my mind.

Each time I glance toward the window, I find myself hoping for another glimpse of the tantalizing guy in the red hoodie—the curiosity mingling with unease in a way that both terrifies and excites me, but more than anything else, distracts me.

Hours pass, or maybe just minutes; it’s hard to tell. The late evening moon begins to peek out from behind the clouds, casting streaks of light onto the wet pavement outside. Finally, as my nerves ease, the door swings open, and Carli steps in, shaking off rainwater from her coat.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Traffic was a fucking nightmare,” she announces, kicking her wet boots off on the mat beside the door.

I force a smile, my nerves still lit with unanswered questions. “So, about this boyfriend of yours...”

Carli chuckles, ignoring my hesitance. “Oh, don’t be mad. He really is great.” Her smile is bright and wide, and I can tell how excited she is. But I’m still concerned.

“But you… You fucking started dating him without even knowing anything about him. With no warning or anything,” I retort, still shocked by her careless attitude.

“I know I did, and yeah, we sorta just jumped into things,” she giggles. “But Scarlett, we have this crazy chemistry, and besides, he’s technically not a stranger to me since he’s one of my brother’s friends. ”

“Chemistry, huh?” I cross my arms, rolling my eyes, but am unable to hide the concern that slices through my tone. “What do you really know about him?

Carli blinks, surprised by my intensity. “I know more than you think! He’s... he’s different. You’ll understand once you meet him. I promise.”

I hesitate for a moment, then speak carefully. “Did he, um, have any friends with him when he left?”

A flicker of confusion crosses her face before she nods. “Yeah, my brother and a couple of their other friends. Why?”

“Just curious,” I say, trying to sound casual. “What’s his name?”

“I can’t say just yet,” Carli says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “He’s in town for a bit. I’ll have him come over and introduce himself one of these nights.”

As nervousness wraps around my stomach, I manage a weak smile, knowing meeting the mystery man sooner rather than later is inevitable. But beneath the surface, excitement is an undeniable, nagging reminder of the danger that seems to lurk in the shadows of this cozy little town—the thought of the unknown rewriting the course of my life in ways I never expected.