Voices softened. The world seemed to slow each time her voice played in his head.
"Woo!!! Listening sends shivers down my spine… your voice is the most melodious sound I wake up and sleep with. Beyond music… yet somehow, as I hold onto your memory, you leave me with emptiness why?"
Ethan lingered in the shadows across from the studio, his gaze locked on the glowing "ON AIR" sign. Inside those walls lived the voice that had taken root in his mind—steady, warm, familiar… and now, unbearable to be without.
It had started innocently enough. A late-night broadcast. A random frequency. A voice that cut through silence like a soft light in darkness. But over time, what began as casual listening became routine. Routine became habit. And habit became something far more consuming.
He memorized her tone. Her pauses. The way she laughed softly before continuing a sentence. He didn't just listen anymore he anticipated her.
And somewhere along the line, he began to believe she was speaking to him.
Weeks had passed since he first showed up at the studio. Weeks of waiting. Watching. Asking, Being turned away.
Inside, Anna remained unaware of how deeply her voice had rooted itself in someone else's life.
Outside, Ethan's patience thinned.
"I just need to talk to her," he muttered, pacing slowly near the entrance. His voice barely carried, but his breathing grew heavier with each passing second. "Why won't they let me in?"
Mr. Jenkins, the security officer, had grown used to Ethan's presence. At first, he had tried to be polite, Firm, but understanding. Now, there was no room left for patience.
"You've been told already," Jenkins said one evening, stepping out of the guard post. "You can't just walk in here demanding to see her."
Ethan turned sharply. "I'm not a threat."
"Your behavior says otherwise."
The words hung in the air. Ethan's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. He simply stared back at the building, as though waiting for it to open up and give him what he wanted.
Days later, the phone calls began.
Late at night, the studio line would ring. At first, the receptionist thought it was a mistake. Then the calls became frequent. Insistent. Each time, the same voice.
"Put me through to Anna."
There was something about his tone controlled, but edged with something unspoken that unsettled anyone who heard it.
Eventually, Mr. Jenkins took the calls himself.
"I'm warning you," Jenkins said firmly over the line, "you need to stop contacting this station."
Silence on the other end… then a slow breath.
"I'm going to do something bad if I don't get to talk to her."
The calmness in Ethan's voice made it worse.
Jenkins straightened. "If you come near this place again making threats, you'll be arrested."
Another pause. Then a soft click. The line went dead.
Two days later, Ethan returned.
As promised.
He stood at the gate, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. Jenkins approached immediately.
"You again?"
Ethan nodded slightly. "I just want to see her."
"You've crossed a line."
"I don't want to hurt her," Ethan replied calmly. "I'm one of her biggest listeners."
Jenkins shook his head. "Fans don't threaten people."
Ethan smiled faintly. "Then maybe you're misunderstanding me."
That was the first time Jenkins felt it the shift. Something beneath the surface. Not loud. Not explosive. Just… off.
Ethan was arrested that week after refusing to leave the premises during another visit. The charge was minor disturbance. He was released shortly after.
When he returned again, Jenkins' concern turned into vigilance.
"You don't learn, do you?" Jenkins asked as Ethan approached once more.
"I've learned enough," Ethan replied. "Now I'm being patient."
"Then show it by staying away."
Ethan's eyes drifted toward the studio window. "I am being patient."
Jenkins watched him carefully.
"What do you mean by that?"
Ethan's lips curved slightly. "If I can't reach her directly… I'll make sure my presence reaches her another way."
Before Jenkins could respond, Ethan had already turned and walked off.
That was the moment things began to change.
Gifts started arriving.
Packages. Letters. Carefully wrapped items delivered to the station under different names. Each one addressed to Anna. Each one containing messages written in a neat, deliberate hand.
Anna treated them with gratitude at first. Her show often encouraged connection with listeners, and it wasn't unusual to receive tokens of appreciation.
"Another one?" Alex asked one evening, noticing the growing stack near her desk.
"Yes," Anna replied, smiling faintly. "From the same initials"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "He's consistent."
Anna nodded, though her expression carried something less certain. "It doesn't feel normal anymore."
She opened the latest package slowly.
Inside was a handwritten note.
Her voice softened as she read it aloud.
"He who wishes to see… will surely see. Even if it means removing those who stand in the way."
Alex frowned. "That's… not a fan message."
Anna exhaled slowly, setting the paper down. "There's more."
She unfolded another slip tucked beneath it.
"Disaster can be averted by just breaking the silence but if silence continues then it will surely be silenced,Silence protects nothing. Silence ends everything."
A pause filled the room.
Alex leaned closer. "This isn't admiration."
Anna didn't respond immediately. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the desk.
More messages followed in the weeks after.
Some poetic. Some unsettling. Each one more direct than the last.
"Patience is triggered, and blood will be sweet, sweet for the patience and sorrow for the blood,"
"Patience will be rewarded… and blood will satisfy what patience cannot.
Alex stopped reading that one midway. "Okay. That's enough."
Anna closed her eyes briefly. "I've tried to ignore it."
"You shouldn't."
"I know."
For the first time since she began receiving the packages, concern replaced her usual calm.
That evening, as Anna sat in the studio preparing for her next broadcast, she adjusted her headphones and looked into the microphone. The red "ON AIR" sign flickered on.
She inhaled slowly.
"Good evening, beautiful people… welcome back to Find Looooove!!!"
Her voice flowed effortlessly, as always. Warm. Inviting. Unaware that somewhere out there, someone was listening more closely than anyone else.
Ethan stood alone in his dimly lit space, a radio softly playing her voice.
He leaned forward slightly.
And smiled.
Because to him, this wasn't just a show anymore
It was communication.
And in his mind… she was already speaking to him and loving him.