Chapter 36 | Counter-Programming the Fear

The credits rolled as the main character walked away from the burning house where the killer had finally met his end. Chloe stayed pressed against Jordan’s shoulder, the blanket pulled up to her chin. Her heart was still racing from the final confrontation scene where the killer had cornered the protagonist in a bathroom with a knife.

She hated movies like this.

Not because of the gore or the jump scares, though those definitely sucked. But because stalkers were her actual nightmare. The thing that kept her up at 2 AM checking the locks on her door three times. The reason she never posted location tags on Instagram until after she’d already left. The reason she wore a mask and sunglasses to every single coffee date.

Someone out there could be watching her right now. Following her Instagram. Subscribing to her OnlyFans. Learning her patterns and her schedule. And she’d never know until it was too late.

Her chest felt tight.

"That was ass," Jordan said above her head.

Chloe looked up at him. "What?"

"The movie. Six out of ten at best. The twist was predictable and the killer’s motivation made no sense."

"You’re critiquing the plot? I’m over here traumatized and you’re worried about narrative consistency?"

"I’m just saying if you’re going to make a stalker movie at least make the stalker interesting. This guy was just angry his girlfriend broke up with him. That’s boring."

Chloe sat up slightly but didn’t move away. "You think stalking someone because they dumped you is boring?"

"I think it’s lazy writing."

"What would make it not lazy?"

Jordan shrugged. "I don’t know. Give him an actual mental disorder or something. Make him think the main character is his dead sister reincarnated. Make it tragic and horrifying instead of just, like, a dude who can’t handle rejection."

Chloe stared at him. "That’s somehow more disturbing than what we just watched."

"But you’d remember it."

Fair point.

The Netflix menu returned to the home screen. Bright colors and cheerful thumbnails filled the display. Chloe’s eyes felt dry from not blinking during the last twenty minutes of the film.

Jordan’s words echoed in her head. The ones from earlier. Right before the boyfriend died.

I’ll protect you.

Her face heated. She looked down at the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. Empty except for unpopped kernels at the bottom.

He was just being nice. That’s what people said in situations like this. It didn’t mean anything. It was like saying "bless you" after someone sneezed. Automatic. Meaningless.

Except he’d looked at her when he said it.

Chloe risked a glance up at Jordan. He was scrolling through his phone with one hand. The other arm rested along the back of the couch behind her shoulders. Not touching her. Just there.

His side profile caught the light from the TV. Sharp jawline. Straight nose. Those hazel eyes that somehow looked amber in certain lighting. Like right now. Like liquid gold.

Stop.

Chloe grabbed the edge of the blanket and twisted it between her fingers. "I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep after that."

Jordan looked down at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I’m going to be checking every corner of my apartment for the next three hours."

"You want me to do a sweep before I leave? Check the closets and under the bed?"

Chloe’s heart did something stupid in her chest. "You don’t have to do that."

"I don’t mind."

"It’s fine. I’m being dramatic."

"You’re not being dramatic. That movie was designed to make people paranoid."

Chloe pulled the blanket tighter. "My mom used to have this trick when I watched scary movies as a kid. She’d make me watch something happy right after to like, reset my brain or whatever. Counter the fear with something wholesome."

"Does it work?"

"I have no idea. We only did it once."

Jordan’s mouth curved up. "But you watched one tonight."

"Yeah well. The random selection gods and all that."

"Right. Very sacred process."

Chloe rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She glanced at the TV screen. The Netflix home page was still pulled up. Rom-coms and feel-good dramas filled the recommended section.

"We could test it," Jordan said. He kept his tone casual, like he was suggesting they check if the milk in her fridge had expired. "Your mom’s technique. See if it actually works."

Chloe turned to look at him properly. "Test what?"

"The whole ’watch something happy to reset your brain’ thing. Counter the psychological damage from the last hour and a half."

"You want to watch another movie?"

"I mean." Jordan pulled out his phone and checked the time. The screen showed 4:17 PM. He held it up so she could see. "It’s barely past four. Unless you want me to leave."

The question hung between them for a moment.

Did she want him to leave?

Chloe’s brain said yes. This was already dangerous territory. She’d invited a subscriber into her apartment. Changed into shorts that barely qualified as clothing. Spent the last ninety minutes pressed against his side like they were actually dating.

But her mouth said something different. "One more movie won’t hurt."

Jordan’s expression shifted. Something passed through his eyes too fast for Chloe to identify. "Okay. Your turn to pick."

"Oh no. I’m not taking responsibility for another selection. The last one almost killed me."

"So we do another random selection?"

"Absolutely not. You’re going to rig it and we’ll end up watching

Saw

or something equally horrifying."

"I would never."

"You would definitely."

Jordan handed her the remote. "Then you scroll and I’ll tell you when to stop."

Chloe took the remote and started moving through the options. Romantic comedies. Animated films. Nature documentaries. She paused on a movie poster showing two people holding hands under a streetlight.

"That one," Jordan said.

Chloe read the description. "

Love in Transit.

A chance encounter on a subway platform leads to a night of unexpected connection." She wrinkled her nose. "This looks sappy."

"Perfect. Maximum wholesomeness."

"It’s probably going to be terrible."

"Then we’ll make fun of it."

Chloe hesitated. The poster couple looked too perfect. Too staged. Like they’d never experienced real problems in their entire lives.

But it definitely wasn’t a horror movie.

"Fine." She hit play.