Swindled (Proxies x Reader)

Two: Virtual Goldmine

Once you'd train-hopped a little (just in case, on a rare chance, you were followed), you made your way to your cramped-as-hell studio apartment. It wasn't too bad for student accomodation - you had your own tiny bathroom and a kitchenette, so you didn't have to venture out into the rest of the complex unless you wanted to, but it couldn't fit both your single bed and a desk. You mostly studied on the floor.

You didn't think these three fresh scores would get you out of here, but maybe they'd get you enough to pay the next month's rent and buy a proper fridge. That would be nice. Though, taking all three phones out of your pocket and chucking them down onto your bed, then pulling out your own cracked iPhone 5, you thought maybe you deserved a new phone as well. Surely two phones worth of cash could still get you, like, a toaster.

First things first. Mulling over what you'd do with the cash once you got it, you set to work on the phones. The iPhone would be the most fun, they always were - all you had to do was wait for the ugly jacket guy to activate find my phone, then you could get to work. Before he did, though, you plugged it into your laptop and set your decrypting software to the monotonous task of cracking his passcode. Shouldn't take more than half an hour.

-

Ping!

You set down your half-drunk mug of (tea/coffee/whatever u personally would like to be drinking out of a mug right now) and raced back of over to your bed, kneeling down on the floor and unplugging the iPhone.

2-0-0-9. And there you had it. You smiled to yourself as you took the unlocked iPhone back, glancing down at the Home Screen. It was a photo of what looked to be a slightly younger, smiling, ugly jacket guy - with some badly shaven sideburns. Good call, getting rid of those. You snorted as you looked to the other person in the photo. Lo and behold, it was a slightly younger version of the huge motherfucker, hair shorter than it was now, grinning widely to display a radiant tooth gap. Besties, clearly. You wondered where that left the creepy Toby kid - but, you supposed you now had the wherewithal to figure that out if you really wanted. Also, you didn't care.

You flung the iPhone to one side as you set about repeating the process with the Toby-kid's Samsung. It didn't take long at all - in fact, you could have guessed it yourself. Because it was 8-0-0-8.

Turning your attention back to the iPhone, you grinned when you realised it had been put into lost mode at last. Not only that, but the poor fool had attached an email address. You opened up your iCloud email on your laptop and typed in the address, wrighttimothy@gmail.com, then copy-pasted your good old "click here to lock your account" dupe link, signing off cheerily as the Apple team before you hit send.

With any luck, this Timothy would fall for your shenanigans and you'd have his info quite literally in the palm of your hand in no time. Then all you'd have to do was sell his sensitive personal information on the dark web for some extra cash, wipe the phone, and it was good as new.

While you waited for a response, you took up the Samsung with the password BOOB (go figure, creepy Toby kid), and popped out the SIM card with a safety pin. Then, you typed in the passcode and started snooping through his stuff.

Toby's home screen was a bad quality picture of what you thought was an axe or something. You wrinkled your nose, then started filtering through the guy's apps. Candy crush, meditation app, subway surfers, tumblr. Useless, useless, useless, useless. Not a banking app in sight. Also, what kind of young dude didn't have a single social media or dating app? He'd seemed younger than his two friends - you'd guess about your age, nineteen or twenty. So why only children's games? Strange dude.

Sighing, you powered the thing off. If there was nothing good on it, then a factory reset it was. You opened up the settings app, and did a full reset. Bye bye, silly games and strange Home Screen. When the wipe was complete, you powered it off and flung it somewhere on your bed, not particularly caring where it fell. Back to the juicy stuff.

You refreshed your email and would've jumped for joy, had you not been seated. When you followed the link through, you saw that the Timothy guy had played into your hands, entering his information right into your fake little login screen. You copy-pasted his Apple email and password into the payments section of settings, and found yourself in a virtual goldmine. Full name Timothy Wright, home address 38 Roebuck Fold, AB 35491. Not to mention the credit card details.

You wondered what a guy from Alabama was doing so far north. Vacation, maybe? Visiting that Toby kid? Now that you thought about it, Toby was the only one of the trio that hadn't sounded to have a southern drawl, from the few snippets of conversation you'd heard while approaching. This was a weird time of year to go on holiday, but you weren't judging. At all.

iPhones, while holding a wealth of personal information, took a lot longer to deal with than regular old androids. After typing down all of Timothy Wright's personal information, you set about popping out the SIM and doing a factory reset - easy as pie, now that you had his Apple ID. Once that was taken care of, you opened up the apple website on your laptop, logged into his account, changed the password, and then deactivated the account. Good luck logging back in, Tim-boy.

Did you feel bad? Maybe a little, but you tried not to think about it. You were kind of on an evil genius power trip at this point - because let's face it, you were pretty slick. Whenever you meddled in this stuff, you always pictured your victims to be terrible, horrible people to make yourself feel better. For all you knew, this Tim dude ate babies. Sick bastard.

So engrossed were you in Timothy Wright's iPhone, that you failed to notice the threatening notification that illuminated the screen of the final, untouched, phone.