Framed

Video One.

[He's sitting in front of his computer, which is perched on his desk. The seedy quality of the video clearly indicates that he's filming this on his laptop's camera. His eyes have a feral look to them, the shadows making themselves clear despite the filming quality. His hair looks like it's been gelled down for this video, and he's stimming, fingers tapping at a rapid fire pace on the desk itself.]

[He is corybantic, frantic, like he is barely keeping tabs on himself. He grins at the camera.]

"It's been two days since we've met, Camila Cabello. I don't know if you remember me. A lot of people find me forgetful...forgettable. That's the word."

[He pauses, wipes the sweat off his brow, his first sign of nervousness and continues.]

"You told me your name and I looked you up. You were from Florida. Miami. Another coastal city. Did you leave someone behind when you left, was there a love you left behind?"

[There is a water bottle on the edge of the view of the camera. He picks it up, takes a drink, shudders at the room temperature of the water.]

"We - we only met for a bit of time. But I already know we were meant to be. We're going to spend our lives together, Camila."

[He smiles, but his eyes don't express elation, but instead convey something deeper - sort of like the suspense before a scene in a horror movie.]

"I love you. I've already said it a trillion times, and I'll say it a trillion times more, if it gets you to love me back. I'm a bit different. But you'll like that about me sooner or later. I promise...bye for now, Camila. I hope to see you more this summer."

[And with the tap of a button on the keyboard, the screen blacks out.]