Tell her you're a fan

You drift closer as the thin fabric of her camisole pools at her feet. Chloe stands there for a heartbeat, admiring the slope of her shoulders and the curve of her waist in the morning light, her ego a bright, humming frequency that you can practically taste. She’s playing a game with herself—pretending there’s an audience to see if it makes her feel more like the star she’s **** to become.

You reach out toward the bedside table. Your essence flickers, a cold spark of intent that bridges the gap between the spectral plane and her sleek, titanium-hued smartphone.

Bzzz-bzzzt.

The vibration is loud in the quiet room. Chloe jumps slightly, her hands reflexively coming up to cover her chest, but her eyes immediately dart to the screen. She leans over, her bare skin glowing in the sunlight, and frowns. There’s no name. No app icon. No "New Message" banner.

Just a single, glowing word in the center of the black lock screen:

Fan

The word lingers for exactly three seconds before the screen turns pitch black again.

Chloe freezes. She looks at the phone, then slowly turns her head to look at the empty room, then back to her own reflection in the mirror. Her heart is racing—you can feel the thrum of it against the air—but it isn't the cold, paralyzing fear of a victim. It’s a hot, frantic spike of adrenaline.

"Tyler?" she whispers, her voice a mix of accusation and hope. "Tyler, if you hacked my phone, I’m going to kill you."

But she knows Tyler is down the hall. And she knows Tyler doesn't have a poetic bone in his body. She looks back at the mirror, her hands slowly dropping away from her body. She doesn't put her shirt back on. Instead, she stands taller, her chin tilting up as a small, defiant, and incredibly vain smirk touches her lips.

"A fan, huh?" she says to the empty air, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur. "Then keep watching."

She doesn't rush to the shower. She takes her time, swaying her hips just a little more than necessary as she walks toward the en-suite, fully aware that she might not be alone.