The following morning, I fill Jiho's cereal with oat milk when rapid thuds knock at the front door. I immediately slide Jiho his bowl before entering the foyer, leading my son to sit up with paranoia.

"Mommy's going?"

"No baby. Cousin Phoebe's here to take you to school."

Upon opening the door, the vibrant 18-year-old greets me back with a cozy laughter-filled hug. Her brunette fringed hair surpasses her shoulders while a knitted sweater and plaid skirt adorn her petite frame.

"Phoebe! È bello vederti! Grazie mille per aver acconsentito a questo."

"Of course May! È sempre un piacere, besides I missed you guys! But, um... Is your car meant to look like that?"

I step past Phoebe to follow her pointed finger with a puzzled stare. As the morning sun illuminates my face, my jaw drops at my car that's now been carelessly spray painted with punctured tires and markings along the front window, showcasing a bright red 'COCKBLOCKER!'

"What the hell?! Hobi! Hobi!!"

"What?! What happened??" He immediately joins us at the front door. It doesn't take long for his gaping jaw to reflect my own, his footsteps slowing down at the sight.

"Oh no..."

"This was the crazy nanny, right?" Phoebe questions obliviously. Still staring at the damage, my head shakes.

"Who else could it be? Do you know how much this is gonna cost to repair? Honey, get a picture of this."

"Why did she only attack your car?" Phoebe points at Hoseok's pristine Mercedes that accompanies my own. Unlike mine, his doesn't hold a single scratch but instead, sparkles under the sun.

"Because she's out to get me. I'm the one who fired her and I'm the one she wants to replace. What should I do? I have to leave for work now and my car is completely trashed!"

"You can take the train?"

"But that'll take 45 minutes longer and I start work in an hour! I'm going to be late!"

"Honey, all you can do is try. I'll call somebody about the car repairs, leave it to me. But you should probably leave now if you wanna make it to work."

I can't help but strain an irritated groan before bolting inside, grabbing my things and kissing Jiho on the forehead. I have less than an hour to make an 80-minute journey... Could this morning get any worse?

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
➽───────❥───────➤
⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

As expected, I'm 25 minutes late to work. I don't doubt I'll be pulled into a meeting about this. Tardiness and diagnosis sessions don't exactly go hand in hand... But despite this morning's rough start, I gently open the folder in front of me and deliver my first client a performative smile.

"It's a pleasure to sit down with you again, Mina. Once again, I apologize for being late. How are things?"

"Good," She sighs less nervously than in our previous sessions. The stitches on her face seem to have healed, leaving only subtle scarring across the nose and lips. But even so, having to live in another woman's face will never be easily adjustable.

"Last week, we discussed your symptoms of body dysmorphia and Dissociative Identity Disorder. I prescribed you some NDRI anti-depressants to help alongside our psychotherapy chats. How has that been working for you?"

"Um, actually you recommended SSRIs. Zoloft to be exact..."

"Of course! Sorry dear, I usually don't mix those up."

"It's okay. I'm sure the names get confusing."

"Right. Well how has everything been going?"

"Um, pretty good. It's still strange looking in the mirror and seeing somebody else but I'm starting to get used to what happened to me. Regardless of how rare and bizarre it is."

"Acceptance is essential, so that's good to hear. But remember what I told you. It's key to stop hating yourself for something so external, especially when it was out of your control. However you also don't want to get so used to this change that you identify as another person. A different facial structure can feel as though it's rewriting your past, and that confusion is where body dysmorphia kicks in."

"I understand."

"Great. Now let's do a recording of your treatments. Have you been taking the antidepressants twice a day?"

"Twice? You said once..."

...She's right again. It's two dosages for 25mg, but I prescribed her 50mg.

God, what's wrong with me this morning?! If she hadn't corrected me, I could've shattered this entire recovery program and caused major health imbalances...

I manage to mask it well, but the pressure of everything begins to knot and tighten in my mind like jumbled rope. Mina slants her brows in confusion when I close my folder and grin politely.

"Mina, do you mind if we reschedule this session to another day?"

"R-Reschedule? Did I say something wrong?"

"No! Sweety you did nothing wrong, in fact you've been correcting my mistakes." Embarrassment laces my tone as I answer, "You deserve better attention and focus and I'm just afraid that I'm not giving that to you today. I apologize, sincerely."

"I-it's okay. We all have our days."

"How does Monday sound? 1pm?"

"That works. I'll see you on Monday then."

With the session ending early, I wait for my client to exit the room before slumping my head against the desk and letting out a muffled groan. There's no way that just happened... I feel awful.

But at the same time, a bad psychologist does more damage to one's mind than you could imagine. I'd rather postpone a service than give bad service... But still, I never want to do that again.

"May?" The door creaks when Dana slowly peaks her head through the gap. "That session lasted like 5 minutes. What happened?"

My groan-filled reply merely executes as indistinguishable muffles, leading Dana to enter fully while shutting the door behind her.

"This isn't like you. What's up?"

I finally raise my head and rest two elbows on the desk.

"I'm losing it, that's what. I've never terminated a session early. That's like, the biggest psychologist no-no. I could get suspended for this."

"Yikes. Yeah, that's pretty bad. This whole cheating thing got you that stressed, huh?"

"April has me stressed, Dana. Nobody's cheating on anybody. You were right, that girl was trouble from the start. She's been making moves on Hobi and this morning she completely vandalized my car."

"What?! You're kidding! If a bitch touched my car, I'm swinging."

My fingers ride through my roots stressfully. "What do I do?"

"Uh, excuse me?? You file a police report that's what!"

"Yeah... I should, shouldn't I? I didn't even want to take things to the authorities unless it got really serious, but the car thing was too much..."

"Well I hate to break it to you but it's either you pay a visit to the ol' donut dunkers or finally release that feisty Italian side I know you've been burying under all this Doctor crap."

I spare Dana a sarcastic look before sighing.

"You're right. I'm gonna go during lunch."

"The sooner they arrest that crazy bitch, the better."

"Dana! We're psychologists, we don't call people crazy."

"Speak for yourself."

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
➽────1:30PM────➤
⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

In the small, secluded room of our local police station; an officer sits across the table with a collection of papers between us, writing down everything I say with concentration. I have to admit, the golden emblem stitched into his peanut-brown button-up sits reassuringly.

"Okay Dr. Jung. Just to recap; you're requesting a civil harassment restraining order. This protects you from threats of violence, physical abuse, stalking, or alarming actions intended to intimidate you. You do not live alone and are worried for the safety of your family, and you have photo evidence of attacks that were made onto your property this morning. What is your relationship with the aggressor?"

"She's my son's ex-babysitter."

"Have you and this individual ever been romantic?"

"Absolutely not."

"Any incidents from this individual outside of the last six months?"

"No."

The Officer writes after each provided answer.

"And lastly, could you describe the individual so that we can gather their profile?"

"Sure. Her name's April Hellstrom. She's about 25 years old, a biological woman, of European decent, um... Short red hair like mine and a slim build too."

"April Hellstrom...." The officer types away. I watch with anticipation as his eyebrows furrow at the screen more before resting an elbow on the table and curling his finger in front of his lips, as if in deep focus.

"Did you find her?"

"Yep, I've found her alright."

I lean forward with parted lips when the officer rotates his monitor for me to see. The profile on the screen reads April Hellstrom, but the picture looks nothing like her. Instead, an older Swedish woman appears with some information beside the image. '43 years old, maths tutor, currently resides in Jönköping, Sweden...'

"This can't be right. That's not her."

"That's the only April Hellstrom that appears on our database. You sure you're remembering the right name?"

"Yes! S-she must be using a fake identity or something."

"Look, we can't issue out a restraining order against somebody with no face, name or... Existence. If you find more information on her, come back to us."

The officer nearly closes his folder before I block his hand with my own—

"Wait! I know where her house is. I-I've been to it! That's some proof right there, right?"

"What's the address?"

"She lives on Barker Grove. Door 17." I answer confidently. Puzzling to the Officer, the title of residency still comes up as April Hellstrom, but at least he has an address now.

"Okay ma'am, I think we can send a restraining order to the address you've provided."

I immediately feel my chest sink at those peaceful words. With my back now slouched and shoulders eased, I exhale. "Okay... Okay that's good. How long does that take?

"About 1-2 weeks."

"Weeks?! No no no, I need this done today."

"Ma'am, I unders—"

"You don't understand! This girl is after me, okay? She's out to ruin my life over some sick infatuation with my husband and I have a child involved! Isn't there something you can do sooner?"

"My best bet? We can call a judge for you in a few hours and tell them the matter's urgency. If the judge determines that you have a case for civil harassment then a temporary restraining order will be drafted for 7 days."

"7 days? That's it??"

"You can use this time to take it up with the Supreme Court. Until then, I suggest bumping up your security." At that, the officer gets up to file the papers, leaving me to sit there in disheartened shock.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
➽────6:30PM────➤
⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

It's already evening, which means I'm on my way to get the train home from work. I can't seem to shake this feeling of unease from my back... It's not that I fear April. She's clearly suffering from some type of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or even Schizophreniform...

No, I don't fear her because she could never lay a finger on my family. But what worries me is the chance of her obsession moving onto Jiho.

April wants my life. My whole life. And as much as I'll always protect Jiho, it's just unsettling to know that your baby is on a mentally unstable person's mind. No less unsettling than the pedos who stumble upon a child's photo on social media.

I reach for my phone and dial Phoebe for the 4th time when walking to the traffic light and standing patiently.

"Hello?"

"Hey Phoebe. I'm just—"

"Checking on Jiho. I know." Phoebe can't help but chuckle through the phone, "May, he's FINE okay? I told you 15 minutes ago, we're literally watching cartoons and marshmallows."

I close my eyes and raise a palm to my forehead momentarily.

"Right. Sorry... I'm just so on edge lately. Thanks for picking up. I'll see you guys soon."

"Ciao cugino."

After hanging up, the LED walking man switches from red to green, signaling me to walk. I begin crossing the road whilst scrolling for Hobi's number when the humming sound of speeding tires grows louder and more aggressive by the second. Out of nowhere, I look up to see a car suddenly speeding towards me, slicing through the honking cars and screaming pedestrians around us like a knife in steam.

"AHHH!!!"

"Move!"

*CRASH!!!*

My phone flies from my grip and smashes against the concrete when a nearby pedestrian miraculously lunges me out of the way with two arms. The pair of us miss the vehicle by mere feet and hit the ground harshly while the speeding vehicle crashes into a lamppost behind.

I can't help but slowly raise my head, my hair strands messily spread across my face and my gaped mouth shaking as our surroundings spin with dizziness. It doesn't take long for other pedestrians to stop and hurry over and gasp and my rasped, bloody face...

"Are you okay?!"

"That car nearly hit you guys!"

The man who had rescued me slowly unwraps his arms and stands up with a scrape marking his forehead. My startled expression fails to fade when taking his hand and standing also...

"Are you okay, miss?"

"Yeah... T-Thanks..."

"Hey, I'm a firefighter so I suppose it was in my nature. Even off duty." He chuckles.

Unfortunately, it's hard to laugh back once I peer over his shoulder and notice the car that's still crashed into a lamppost, emitting a great deal of smoke. I instantly run over to it and yank open the driver's door.

"AHA!"

But much to my surprise, there's nobody inside. Just an inflated steering wheel cushion and shards of glass scattered along the leather seating. I gawk at the interior with a fallen jaw and wide eyes, my hair messily blowing over the cuts littering my skin.

"Miss, you shouldn't run—"

"W-where did she go?" I look around. The firefighter creases his forehead at my question.

"Who?"

"...The girl! T-the girl with short red hair like mine! O-only not me! She was in here, I know she was!"

Everyone around me looks at each other with confusion.

"Miss, maybe we should call you a paramedic..."

It's like they all think I'm crazy... Looking even more frantic, my breath paces as I wave my finger at the car whilst poking my chest.

"You mean to tell me that this car just swerved and crashed into me by itself??! I'm telling you, a mentally unstable girl crashed into me and ran away and now NOT ONE OF YOU ARE SAYING THAT YOU SAW HER?!"

It's like talking to a parliament of owls. One lady steps forward to press some tissue against my bleeding cheek.

"Dear I'm gonna call you an ambulance—"

"Get off me! I don't need an ambulance and I'm NOT crazy! You know what? Forget this." Despite my injuries, I storm away from the scene ragingly and call Hobi.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
➽──THE NEXT NIGHT──➤
⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

Hoseok's eyebrows raise when he returns from work to some unexpected renovations around the house. A modern security panel now sits beside our front door with a green digital open padlock on its screen while motion sensors and cameras spot the ceiling of each room.

Despite the bandages that secure my arms, I remain oblivious to his entrance and continue adjusting one of the cameras from the height of my stepping stool. Hoseok looks around before playfully squeezing my waist from behind.

"And here I thought I had a busy day."

"I told you I wasn't wasting any time Hobi. That girl tried to kill me yesterday, and I doubt it'll be her first attempt. When that girl strikes again, this time I'll be ready."

"This explains the cameras that were following me outside." He chuckles, And you're sure this is enough security?"

"Very sure. If she even steps foot in this house while the security panel is activated, the motion sensors will alert us within seconds and the cops will be on their way. But we have to remember to activate the panel every time we leave the house or go to bed. Just in case she tries to break in."

"I see." The hardworking businessman presses a button on the keypad that causes the digital green locket to turn red. With a daring grin, Hoseok stares at me whilst reaching for the door handle.

"Dare me to open it?"

"Don't."

"I'm kidding, sheesh." My annoying husband chuckles. It doesn't take him long to bind his arms around my waist and bring me forward, a fearless smirk pinching his lips.

"As much as this determination of yours is sexy, you deserve to relax without being paranoid for just one night. How about you and me check on Jiho, put on a romantic movie, and see where the night takes us, hm?"

His sweet nothings glaze my ear like honey from the proximity of his lips. I meet Hobi with a soft smile of my own before connecting our lips and letting him lead me upstairs with interlocked fingers.

That same romantic tension holds up when we enter our bedroom. Hoseok connects his laptop to the TV and looks for something to watch while I change into some champagne-satin pyjamas. The sight of me changing has Hoseok eyeing me flirtatiously, though that look shortly fades when a mysterious pop-up centers the monitor's screen.

With intertwined brows, he reads out...

'moviesuggestion.mp4.'

"What the heck is that?" I lean forward and squint.

"No idea..."

Without much thought, Hobi clicks the prompt only for a large mp4 video to take over the screen and play at full volume. Mortified expressions strike both of our faces when low-quality footage plays of April pleasuring herself with a dildo and moaning out my husband's name.

"AHH Hobi turn it off!!"

"It's not letting me!"

The moans that blare from our TV become too much to bare. While Hoseok desperately hits his keyboard, I instinctively lunge across the bed and pull the plug from our wall, causing the monitor to shut off completely. Hoseok combs a hand through his brunette hair and places the other on his hip with a stress-induced exhale as we stare at each other silently.

"Well uh... I guess it's time to get a new laptop."

"...Those moans." I slowly look up, "The way she was saying your name, the pattern... They sounded way too familiar."

"I thought that too. Just wasn't sure if it would get me into trouble if I said anything. They sounded like—"

"Like mine." I finally look up. "She's watched us have sex."

"But how?"

A moment of silence brushes by as I look around our room for any over-exposing windows. Nope, none. It's impossible for the neighbors to see in here...

That's when I spot the Pooh Bear plushy that randomly sits in the corner of our room.

Without hesitation, I claw my nails between the stitching and rip Pooh's head from his body, letting clouds of cotton stuffing erupt like a volcano. Hoseok watches with confused intrigue until I draw out the miniature microphone that lies inside.

"Oh my," Hoseok gawks.

But contrary to his star-struck reaction, mine remains much different. Without taking my eyes off of my husband, I merely bring the microphone to my lips, as close as possible, and grumble in a sinister tone...

"I know you're listening, bitch. And you know exactly who this is... You might look like me, you might talk like me and you may think you're me, but you'll never have what I have. You better pray you end up in an asylum after all of this because otherwise... Mi occuperò io stesso di te."

With that said, I calmly drop the microphone before slipping on a singular court heel from my closet. Its glossy caramel-patent material reflects Hoseok's wide eyes when I used to heel to step on the microphone and smash it to pieces.

"That's one down."

"I'm gonna check the other plushies for mics." Hoseok leaves the room.

"Momma sad?"

I rotate when Jiho stands at my door frame in the cutest satin pyjama set, tiredly rubbing his eye while his other drags Slothie along the floor. My fury immediately thaws as I crouch down to meet his height.

"Of course not baby! I'm fine. But, um, I have to tell you something. April won't be coming over anymore."

He frowns, "No Abwil?"

"No baby. It's complicated... You did nothing bad, I promise. You were an angel as always. But daddy and I want you to spend more time with family. Which is why you're gonna sleep between us in our room for a while, okay?"

I hate that I'm doing this to him... Bringing somebody into his life just to take them out once he's used to them. But it's what I've got to do for his safety.

I can tell by his pout that he's confused, but nevertheless, Jiho nods. With a soft smile, I take his tiny hand and lead him to our bed.