The email arrived at 3:47 AM on a Tuesday. Kaelen, a 24-year-old data analyst with the charisma of a damp paper towel, was still awake. He was doing what he always did: scrolling through the social media feeds of people who were living the life he wanted.
“Elara,” Kaelen said, “why don’t you show Dex that new dance move you learned?”
He clicked it. A chill ran down his spine.
Dex’s heart rate spiked. He looked confused, then pleased. “Uh, thanks, El.”
The interface changed. A new tab appeared:
His phone buzzed. A text from his ex-girlfriend, Mira. The one who had dumped him for being ‘too boring.’
Dex’s resolve crumbled. He was only human. He kissed her.
She looked at him. And for the first time in three years, she really looked at him. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted.
Kaelen should have closed the laptop. He should have smashed it. He had what he wanted—a devoted, adoring fiancée. But the software had changed him, too. It had awakened a cruel, voyeuristic curiosity. He wanted to see Dex’s face. He wanted to win, utterly and finally.
