Dystopian

Chapter 5

-Seokjin's Pov-

Days had passed, and I missed my lover more and more each day. I felt so empty not seeing him or hearing his adorable voice at least... if only I could afford a phone. "A phone... I need a phone."

I arrived in front of the store, its bright neon sign a stark contrast to the dim streets I had walked. I stepped inside, the cool air conditioning hitting me instantly. The place was immaculate, rows of shiny new phones displayed on sleek glass shelves. Everything looked so expensive, and I felt a pang of desperation. I couldn't afford anything at all.

I wandered through the store, feeling more and more out of place. My clothes, worn from years of hard work, stood out against the polished interiors and well-dressed customers. I glanced at the price tags, my heart sinking with each number I saw. How could I possibly buy a phone with the little money I had?

"Can I help you with something?" a sales clerk asked, eyeing me with polite curiosity. He wore a crisp uniform and had a professional smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"I... I need a phone..." I stammered, feeling the weight of my financial limitations. "But something... affordable."

The clerk’s smile faltered slightly, and he led me to a small section at the back of the store where older models were displayed. They were still more expensive than I had hoped, but I needed to stay connected with Namjoon somehow. It was the only way to keep our love alive while we were apart.

"These are the most budget-friendly options we have" the clerk said, gesturing to the modest array of phones. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

I scanned the selection, my eyes landing on a phone that looked decent enough. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. It wasn’t fancy, but it would do the job. "How much is this one?"

The clerk named the price, and I felt my stomach drop. It was more than I had, but maybe I could scrape together enough if I sacrificed a few meals or took on extra shifts.

"Can I put a down payment and pay the rest in installments?" I asked, hoping for some leniency.

The clerk hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we don’t offer that option."

Desperation clawed at my insides. I needed this phone, needed to hear Namjoon’s voice. As the clerk turned to help another customer, a reckless idea formed in my mind. I looked around the store, noting the security cameras and the positions of the other clerks.

I moved to a corner where a few phones were on display. Pretending to examine one closely, I slipped my hand into my pocket and retrieved a small knife. My heart pounded as I carefully cut the security tag off the phone, slipping it into my pocket. I took a deep breath and casually walked towards the exit, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

Every step felt like an eternity. I expected someone to shout, to grab my arm, but nothing happened. The clerk who had spoken to me earlier glanced in my direction but didn’t seem suspicious. I pushed open the door, the bell above it chiming cheerfully as I stepped outside.

The cool evening air hit my face, and I quickened my pace, turning down an alley to put some distance between myself and the store. My hands shook as I pulled the phone from my pocket, the weight of what I had done settling heavily on my shoulders. But the thought of Namjoon, his smile, his voice, made the guilt worth it.

Back in my small apartment, I quickly set up the phone, my hands trembling with a mix of excitement and fear. I dialed Namjoon’s number, my heart pounding in my chest. The phone rang, each tone a mix of hope and dread.