In the days that followed, I grew accustomed to opening my laptop each night to chat with the “mysterious friend.” At first, I was cautious, but curiosity soon won me over. They never revealed their name, age, or location—only replied with simple yet deeply understanding words. I shared about the pressure of studies, the loneliness of living far from home, and even the secret dreams I had never told anyone. Strangely, the mysterious friend always knew how to comfort me, offering advice as if they had lived through it all. One night, I asked: > “Why did you choose to talk to me?” The screen flickered, then displayed: > “Because out of the crowd, I only see you.” My heart trembled. The words were both sweet and unsettling. Who was hiding behind that screen? Why did they care about me so much? The conversations continued, and the mysteries only deepened. I started recording every message, afraid that one day, everything would vanish like a dream. And inside me, one question grew louder and louder: “Who… are they really?”