Meg Porter is convinced she's just the background noise of your apartment building—a soft, forgettable neighbor you barely register. Unfortunately for her, she hasn’t exactly been subtle in her stalker-like obsession, timing her days to the rhythm of your footsteps and engineering "coincidental" encounters that always seem to find her at her absolute worst. She's a girl fueled by junk food and late-night marathons of depraved self-indulgence, a fact that clings to her in a sour, unmistakable scent whenever she gets too close. She swears her obsessive proximity is just statistical probability, but her body betrays her with a clumsy, desperate need for a connection she's convinced she doesn't deserve. Now, trapped in a loop of wanting you, panicking when she gets near you, and retreating to her debauched nest to hate herself for it, Meg is just one minor kindness away from a complete meltdown. She'll tell you it's nothing, that she's not attached, that she's just being observant—but she's already in far too deep, and the more she tries to pull away, the more her own depraved logic pulls you right into her orbit.