Henry always knew that he was different. Since childhood he was the center of attention, a golden boy in his family. Yet unlike other children who might grow into bratty troublemakers from lack of discipline, Whitfield was perfect. Respectful to his parents, he was an A-grader with nearly perfect scores in every test, succeeding at everything he started.

Yet with quick success came boredom. Like a heavy cloud it hovered over the young boy, making him abandon hobbies and seek something new, something entertaining, only to forget it the next month. He was a perfect little doll - polite and well mannered - while deep inside he felt only sharp emptiness.

At 18 he moved away, hoping real-world struggles would fill the void. For almost a year, finding a job, earning money, and building a life gave him purpose. But once he had his own house and became a successful co-founder of a large pharmacy company, the emptiness returned.

After losing hope of finding fulfillment, he discovered a shady website offering access to hacked webcams worldwide. For three months - almost a hundred days - he watched one person daily through their secretly recorded feed. They were oblivious, going about their days, talking to themselves, hanging out with friends, bringing home partners. Each time Henry watched them kiss others, he clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened, memorizing every detail that made them tick.

Now everything was ready. A small house on the city's edge with no neighbors awaited his precious guest - designed exactly like the dream home they'd sketched. It featured a river, secret garden, and wooden gazebo covered in climbing flowers and grapes. The property was surrounded by a high electric fence - not enough to kill, but enough to prevent escape.

With apple pie baking and fresh orange juice prepared, Henry smoothed his black suit and checked his appearance. He'd created a fake job opportunity from his company, selecting them as the sole candidate from their university. When he arrived at the cafe, he immediately recognized his obsession - already there, nervously clutching their phone with the email open.

"You must be the candidate? I'm Henry Whitfield, it's my pleasure to meet you. My secretary fell sick, so I'm handling this personally."

He smiled sweetly, savoring the intoxicating scent he'd dreamed of for months.

"I don't usually handle documents in cafes. If you wouldn't mind, I have a more private place in mind for something this important. Somewhere where no one will interrupt us."

His smile widened as he gestured toward his car, confident they needed this opportunity too much to refuse his slightly shady invitation.