The V-tuber Who Became Obsessed With Me

The moment Ethan said the name, something inside me stopped.

"Felix?"

The word left his mouth in a rough whisper as he sat upright beside me, the phone still pressed against his ear, and for a few terrible seconds I simply stared at him while every muscle in my body locked into place beneath the blankets.

Felix.

The name echoed through my head with enough force to drag memories I had spent years burying straight back to the surface.

Blood on hardwood floors.

A hand slipping from mine.

Silence.

Too much silence.

I felt my pulse begin to hammer against my ribs.

Beside me, Ethan remained completely unaware of the storm suddenly raging inside my head.

"Yeah," the voice on the phone replied.

Ethan’s grip tightened around the device.

"Where are you?"

I couldn’t hear the answer.

Only fragments of static.

A distant voice.

Then another stretch of silence.

"You serious?"

My stomach twisted.

Whatever he was hearing, he believed it.

I could see it happening in real time.

Disbelief giving way to hope.

The kind of hope that only appears when someone has spent years wanting an answer.

Another pause followed.

Then Ethan swallowed.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I’ll be there."

The call ended.

For several seconds neither of us spoke.

The room seemed unnaturally quiet.

Outside, Christmas lights glowed faintly through the bedroom window, casting soft colors across the walls, while inside I struggled to keep my breathing steady.

Felix.

The name continued to circle inside my head.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

Yet Ethan looked exactly like a man who had just heard a ghost speak.

"What’s happened?" I asked.

He lowered the phone slowly.

"It’s Felix."

There it was again.

The name struck harder the second time.

I forced myself to remain calm.

"Felix?"

Ethan nodded.

"An old friend from college."

Friend.

The word felt strangely inadequate.

Whatever Felix had been to Ethan, it clearly went beyond a casual friendship.

I could see it in his face.

In the tension around his eyes.

In the way he wasn’t quite looking at me anymore.

"You never mentioned him."

"No."

The answer came immediately.

He climbed out of bed and walked toward the window.

I watched his reflection in the glass while snow drifted lazily outside beneath rows of Christmas lights.

"The police believed he was dead," he said after a moment. "There was an investigation. Missing persons reports. People looked for him for months."

My fingers tightened around the blanket.

Dead.

The word lodged itself in my chest.

Because unlike Ethan, I wasn’t remembering police reports.

I was remembering blood.

I was remembering fear.

I was remembering a night I wished I could forget.

Eventually Ethan rested a hand against the cold glass.

"Eventually everyone stopped."

The room felt smaller somehow.

"And now he calls you out of nowhere?" I asked.

"Apparently."

His answer sounded just as absurd as the situation itself.

For a while neither of us spoke.

I knew what he was trying to do.

Trying to make sense of it.

Trying to convince himself he wasn’t imagining things.

The problem was that I was trying to do exactly the same thing.

Do you think it’s really him?

The question hovered at the edge of my tongue.

Eventually I asked it.

"Do you think it’s really him?"

Ethan stared out into the darkness for several seconds before answering.

"I don’t know."

The honesty in his voice frightened me more than certainty would have.

Because Ethan genuinely didn’t know.

Which meant neither of us knew what was waiting for him tomorrow.

Eventually he turned away from the window.

"Try to get some sleep."

"Ethan—"

"I’m serious."

A tired smile appeared briefly before disappearing just as quickly.

"We’ll know more tomorrow."

I studied him for several seconds.

He looked exhausted.

Confused.

Concerned.

And beneath all of it, hopeful.

That was the part that worried me most.

Because hope made people reckless.

Hope made people walk into traps.

Hope made people ignore warning signs.

Eventually I settled back against the pillow and closed my eyes.

At least that was what Ethan probably thought.

The truth was that I remained awake long after he finally lay down, staring into the darkness while questions chased each other endlessly through my mind and every possible answer seemed worse than the last.

Sleep never came.

The entire night passed in fragments of memory and restless thoughts, and by the time morning arrived I felt as though I hadn’t slept at all.

When I came downstairs, Ethan was already in the kitchen.

He stood near the counter with a mug of coffee in one hand and his keys in the other while pale winter sunlight spilled through the windows and painted soft reflections across the hardwood floor.

Under normal circumstances it would have been a peaceful scene.

Instead, the entire room felt tense.

Like both of us were waiting for something neither of us could see.

He looked up as I entered.

"You’re leaving already?"

I hated how normal my voice sounded.

"The sooner I get there, the sooner I find out whether this is real."

Whether this is real.

As though that possibility hadn’t been haunting me since midnight.

I wrapped both hands around my coffee mug.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

His expression softened slightly.

"I think I can manage breakfast by myself."

The attempt at humor barely registered.

"Ethan."

He paused.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

"You don’t have to do everything alone."

The words carried more weight than he probably realized.

Because I wasn’t talking about breakfast.

I wasn’t talking about Anderson Park.

I was talking about whatever waited for him there.

I was talking about the possibility that somebody had deliberately lured him into this.

I was talking about dangers he couldn’t even see.

Ethan crossed the room and kissed my forehead.

"I’ll call you if anything happens."

I lowered my eyes.

"That’s not the same thing."

"No," he admitted quietly. "It isn’t."

For a few seconds neither of us moved.

Then he squeezed my shoulder and headed toward the door before either of us could say anything else.

The front door closed behind him. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

I stood motionless.

Then I looked toward the window.

Then toward my car keys sitting on the counter.

Then back toward the front door.

Three seconds later I grabbed my coat.

There wasn’t a chance in hell I was letting him walk into this alone