Dollhouse | bts ✓

10. Whining Devils

Every several minutes, I checked my backpack to make sure that the dolls were still there and alive. Every other time, I had to come up with an awkward excuse as to why I was peering into my bag as if I was expecting a black hole to be in there.

"I thought I saw a bug crawling into my bag," I had explained to Logan the first time I got caught.

"I thought I lost my phone," I had explained to Sarah when she caught me the second time.

By the third time, I couldn't think of a single excuse for stuffing food into my backpack, so I said, "My keys got hungry."

Sarah and Logan stayed clear of me after that, secretly whispering to each other, developing theories about my well-being like they were in a K-pop fandom.

But the time after that when I went to go check on them, my zipper was left open and my sweater was half hanging out of it. Panicked, I rushed over to further open the backpack and peer inside. The dolls weren't there.

Uh oh.

I frantically scanned my nearby surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of them not too far off. Terrible scenarios raced through my mind. I couldn't stomach the ideas of what could happen if the dolls got lost, hurt, or if someone took them.

"Guys!" I whisper-shouted. "Where are you?"

"Yes? Do you need something, Y/N?" Logan asked with a questioning gaze, using his towering height to his advantage to peer over the registers.

"No, I'm not talking to you. Go away," I said, embarrassed over the fact that I'd been caught again.

"M'kay," he said, then went in the opposite direction. It was odd that he went from never leaving me alone to being constantly excited to get away from me.

I kind of liked that change, though. Logan was annoying.

My head shook, clearing my mind of any stray thoughts. I needed to concentrate on finding my dolls before someone else could beat me to it.

It wasn't easy to be discreet about searching the floors and calling out the names of the dolls. I was sent a few questioning glares in the process. I smiled sarcastically in response.

"Y/N," Sarah called my name, frustrated. "There's no one at the registers and people are waiting in line."

"Sorry," I quickly apologized, mustering an innocent face. "I was just putting back the books that tragically fell off the shelves."

"Uh-huh," Sarah rolled her eyes before being pulled aside by a customer.

After scurrying back to the registers, eyes peeled for any sign of the dolls, I caught two little girls giggling in line while clutching smaller figures. Their parents paid them no mind as they struggled to uphold what looked like an assortment of school books.

As I ushered the parents up to the register so that I could check them out, I got a clean glimpse of Namjoon and Hoseok, their faces frozen in fear. I took a couple of extra seconds to see if they moved enough to reveal to the girls that they were alive. I tried to formulate some kind of plan in the meantime.

They weren't moving. In fact, if they weren't my dolls, I wouldn't have guessed that there was something oddly suspicious about them.

The suspicious thing being that they were living and breathing.

I grit my teeth as I watched the two girls tug at their hair, and then smush the two of them together as they played with them. They had their bodies bending and twisting at unholy degrees, inducing me to hurry up so that I could snatch them back.

"Girls," the tired father sighed at the younger two. "Put them up here, we have to pay for them."

The girls were reluctant to surrender their shiny new finds, stubbornly clutching them against their chests. The mom eventually eased the dolls out of their grips and then put them up on the counter for me to scan.

"Oh," I said in mock surprise, picking them up and bringing them a smidge closer to my body. Namjoon released his frozen expression so that he could convey his panic. Hoseok moved his lips rapidly in a silent plea for help.

"These guys aren't actually for sale," I laughed, pretending to be sorry.

The dad's expression hardened. "Then why are they here?"

I avoided the question. "They aren't supposed to be out yet, I don't know how anyone managed to find them."

My eyes narrowed down at the two girls who glared back up at me. I hate children.

One of the girls tugged on her father's shirt. "Daddy, I want my dolly."

Namjoon and Hoseok both clutched onto my shirt in sync, clearly not wanting to go back to the girls.

"Look," the woman said, shoulder bumping into her husband as she moved forward. "Can't you just let my girls have the toys? They really like them. We can pay a little extra if necessary."

"I'm sorry," I said, struggling to keep the frustration out of my tone. "I can't sell them to you."

"Daaaaaddy," the other girl annoyingly whined. "Why is the lady being mean?"

The man massaged his temples as he said, "C'mon, I know they're on sale. I saw four other ones. Please just add them to the order, we have to go."

That sparked my interest and a wave of relief washed over me to at least know that the others were still in the building. But I still dropped any sense of politeness, completely done with the family.

"No," I said.

The couple began arguing with me, raising their volumes over the cries of their annoying-ass children as they tried to negotiate and yell at me.

"Oops," I dramatically said, uncurling my fists from around the dolls as they fell toward my feet. They gripped at my clothes their entire way down, trying to lessen the impact of the fall. Once they reached the floor, I bent down, pretending to pick them back up.

"Get back in the backpack," I instructed. They immediately obeyed, bolting for the sleeve of my sweater and using it to climb back up into my backpack. I stayed down for a few more minutes to make sure they made it safely.

Two down. Five more to go.

I stood back up to face the fuming children watching me like hawks. The couple's expressions were livid.

"What was that all about?" The man demanded.

"I—"

The sentence was abruptly cut off by Sarah's intervention.

"Is there a problem?" She asked authoritatively, approaching us from my left.

"Yes, there is. This employee is the problem," the wife said, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing me up and down.

Bitch.

The two girls started shouting and pointing fingers at me in accusation, muttering something along the lines of "she-stole-our-favorite-dollys-and-won't-give-them-back".

Sarah turned toward me, shooing me away, silently telling me that she would handle it. But I could tell by the slight darkness in her expression that she wasn't pleased. That definitely meant that I would be getting a lecture later.

I sauntered off in obedience, making eye contact with the two dolls that peered out of my backpack with curiosity.

"Don't move. Stay hidden," I mouthed to them, before walking off to go find the others.

          ____

Unedited.

I've been so involved in my other story that I've kind of forgotten about this one, so sorry :(

Also, fun fact: I came up with this story because of a dream I had. Maybe I'll eventually describe that dream more in depth.