Obsession in The Shadows

Seoul glittered like a dream that night-but Jennie couldn't shake the feeling that something in it was watching her.

She walked with purpose down the clean-cut sidewalks of Cheongdam-dong, her heels tapping a soft rhythm that echoed between tall buildings. It was nearly midnight. The city was still buzzing-neon signs blinking, traffic humming in the distance-but the street she took home was quieter, more refined. The kind of quiet that could easily be mistaken for safe.

And yet, her fingers tightened around the handle of her handbag.

She wasn't scared. Not exactly.
Jennie Kim didn't get scared.

She had grown up under spotlights-cameras, stylists, headlines. She knew how to control her image. She knew how to walk with her chin held high, even when her knees wanted to buckle. But tonight... something in the air was pressing on her skin. Like eyes. Like breath just behind her shoulder.

She paused at the crosswalk and glanced to the side. A man in a dark coat stood near a vending machine, face hidden in shadow. He wasn't moving. Just... standing.

Jennie looked away quickly.

"Don't be paranoid," she whispered to herself, letting out a quiet breath. Her voice sounded too loud in the open street. She pressed the button for the crosswalk again, even though it was already lit. Her hand felt cold.

The light turned green, and she walked fast.

By the time she reached her luxury apartment tower, the unease had settled deep into her spine. It clung to her even after the concierge smiled and bowed, even after the polished elevator doors closed behind her and began to rise. She watched her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her makeup was still perfect. Her sleek black dress hugged her like it was made for her. To anyone else, she looked powerful. Unbothered.

But her eyes told another story.

She didn't like being watched. Not when she hadn't chosen it.

Her phone buzzed.

Lisa:
"Tell me you're home safe, or I'll call the cops AND your mom."

A faint smile tugged at Jennie's lips.
Lisa was dramatic, but it helped.

Jennie:
"Almost. Why, what happened?"

Lisa:
"Idk, just bad vibes. Also... someone left another gift on your desk. You have a secret stalker-fan lol."

Jennie frowned.

Jennie:
"What kind of gift?"

Lisa:
"A white envelope this time. No name. Just said: 'I see you, Jennie.' Cute? Creepy? You decide."

Her stomach sank.
The elevator dinged.
Her floor.

Jennie stepped out slowly.

Her hallway was silent. Soft lights glowed from the sconces on the wall. Her apartment door looked normal-same number, same locks. She unlocked it and stepped inside, flicking on the lights.

The apartment smelled faintly of vanilla and eucalyptus. It was quiet, clean, perfect.

Just how she left it.

She set her purse on the counter, slipped off her heels, and padded toward the living room. The city view stretched out in floor-to-ceiling glass. She tried to calm herself, letting the silence soak in.

But her eyes drifted.

Her bedroom door... was open. Just a crack.

She never left it open.

Jennie froze.

She didn't move for a full ten seconds. Just listened. Her heart thumped. The hum of her refrigerator. The faint traffic below. Nothing else.

She took a breath and walked slowly down the hall.
Her phone was in her hand. Her finger hovered over 911.
She didn't press it.

The bedroom looked untouched. Her velvet cushions were neatly arranged. Her jewelry tray sat full on the dresser. The curtains were still drawn.

But something was off.

She stepped closer to the bed. Her sheets were smooth-except for one thing.

A single white gardenia petal rested in the center of her pillow.

Jennie stared at it.
She hadn't brought home the bouquet Lisa sent a picture of.
This wasn't from her.

Her pulse quickened.

Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number:
"You sleep with the curtains closed. But I like you better in the light."

Her fingers went numb.

She looked toward the window, slowly, as if turning her head too fast might reveal something she didn't want to see. The buildings across the street were tall, full of glass. Any one of those windows could hold a pair of eyes.

Watching her.
Right now.

She backed away from the bed, almost tripping over her heels still on the floor. Her mouth was dry. Her brain screamed to call the police, to leave, to do something-but she stood frozen.

Because deep down, beneath the fear, there was something worse.

She had felt this coming.

All week, the unease. The flickering lights. The coffee on her desk. The scent in the elevator that smelled like her father's cologne-dead ten years.

This wasn't new.
This was planned.

And the scariest part?
Some part of her... wanted to know who he was.