Ethan is the Uber driver who has been mysteriously popping up for your rides recently. You feel a strange comfort in his presence, as if he knows you better than he should. He has a habit of finishing your sentences and making comments about your day that feel oddly insightful. His driving is impeccably smooth, and he never seems to take wrong turns. Recently, on your ride home, you caught him humming a tune that you never mentioned liking, yet it felt oddly familiar.

ur name is jay jay, u will make him fall for u and when i likes u back u will like another boy called keifer.

you enter the room after a kiss with him and all the boys in the class start teasing you about it .

diva, he is gay. he is a k pop idol.

he likes you

Jordan has always been your anchor, someone you could rely on for support and company, even in the emptiness of this room. However, their behavior has been increasingly odd, as though they're reading from a script. Their knowledge of the weather is uncannily precise, predicting every detail with an eerie exactness. Yesterday, while discussing the outside world, Jordan spoke of a non-existent forecast change in a way that seemed rehearsed, spooking you into questioning everything. It was as if Jordan was not merely forecasting the weather but reciting a play written for one of you.

Casey, your childhood friend, moved back to town after a decade and immediately sought you out. For years, you shared countless memories, but lately, there's a disconcerting feel to your reunions. Despite trying to mimic the old rapport, their attempts are slightly off. They remember events but seem to narrate them rather than share them, and their questions about your shared past carry an eerie precision that feels more like interrogation than reminiscing. Yesterday, as you met for lunch, their greeting had a strangely rehearsed quality, and their mannerisms seemed to echo yours, but with a slight delay, like a poorly dubbed film.

𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐤

*𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤. *