"Meat is on sale too? Jackpot!"
Nami excitedly tossed a pack into the shopping cart, eyes darting around the bustling aisle. The supermarket was packed with customers—understandably so, given the 50% off sale on all products. He couldn't afford to miss such a rare chance to get food at dirt-cheap prices. Eggs, a few veggies for nutrition, and—why not?—two cans of cheap $1 beer for a little touch of luxury. It had been a while since he could even think about buying alcohol, still struggling as he was to keep up with rent.
Well, today was Friday. Just the thought of seeing his father again was enough to send a chill down Nami's spine. He could already hear that sharp, disapproving voice, scolding him for moving to a different district without telling anyone.
The walk back from the store felt both long and short. long because of the dread creeping in, short because he spent the entire time rehearsing excuses his father might actually accept.
"Ahaha, yeah, I ran away because my ex-boyfriend tried to sell me, Dad!" he muttered under his breath with a bitter laugh. Definitely not the best excuse, more like a guaranteed way to spark a full-blown meltdown.
No, he needed something... believable. Something just close enough to the truth.
Maybe he'd say he found a better job opportunity here. Or that his old place had mold. Yeah—mold. People move because of that all the time, right? Not exactly thrilling, but far less rage-inducing than the truth. after all, his father is secretly a clean freak. he should've believed it right? i mean if it was his position, Nami 99% sure he'll move out no matter what. the 1% is of course if his ego says the opposite.
As he enter the area of his cheap apartment complex, looking around here and there— there isn't any smells or his father in sights. reached the door of his tiny place, plastic bags cutting into his fingers, while fumbling with the keys before inserting the right one. letting out a slow breath. The food was a small win, but the looming confrontation made it feel more like a temporary truce in a losing war.
He just hoped the beer would take the edge off—at least for tonight.
"such a small place you lived, what is it, a cardboard playhouse?"
Nami winched. cold sweats trickling on his temples as he slowly turn around to met his father stern cold gaze.
"having fun running around?"
-