Offline, but watching.

I work night shifts at a 24-hour pharmacy, where nothing ever really happens except the slow passing of time under fluorescent lights and the quiet routines of people who don't want to be seen.

That was how it felt until the night I started receiving messages from someone who seemed to know things about me that I had never shared with anyone. At first, I told myself it was a coincidence or a strange form of spam, something easy to ignore once I stopped thinking about it too much. But the messages didn't stop, and they didn't stay random for long. They began referencing moments I was certain no one had witnessed, details from my life that had never been posted online or spoken out loud.

He knew where I parked after my shifts. He knew the playlists I used to get through the night. He knew when I was lying to other people, even when I thought I was convincing.

What unsettled me most was not that he was watching, but how specific he was about things I had never considered visible.

And when I finally replied, I didn't expect him to respond as if he had been waiting for me the entire time.