Pen Of The Year (Novel Writing Contest) (2014) (ORDER IS NOW OPEN!)

Fifth Entry : Shadows Within

Chapter I: NEET

27/01/2023 ◊ 20:53 ◊ Quick Bite, Cubao, Quezon City

            Anyone would be suspicious of a person who keeps his head low, and half of his face masked in the shadow of his jacket's hood. And more so, if he pops out of the dim parts of the street at night. But the security guard of Quick Bite was not alarmed when he saw a figure in a hoodie and long, denim pants approaching the store. He recognized the figure from his light, aimless gait.

            Lifting his head, Yvan walked into the convenience store, and timidly nodded to the security guard and cashier. Both greeted him back with a smile and, “Welcome!”

            Noticing that the store had no other patron, he slid off the hood of his navy blue sweatshirt. He then took a grocery basket and began combing the grocery aisles.

            “You must be working in the night shift, coming at this hour regularly,” the cashier, said as he scanned the items. He remembered the scrawny man well, for he had been visiting the store every night since July last year.

            Yvan only nodded when the cashier shared how he admired employees working the graveyard shift and how he loathed not having time to get a girlfriend. He hated chitchats with strangers. He made sure he raised his cheeks as he feigned a smile and shook his head when the cashier asked him if he would like to add one of the marked down items from the basket beside the cash register.

            The man shook his head again when the cashier asked him where he works.

            “School?”

            "Uh, no." Yvan said in a low, flat voice as his eyes avoided a curious gaze.

            “What are you doing in life?” There was no response. The cashier’s eyes grew and his mouth twisted into a wry smile. His customer died a little inside upon seeing his expression. “My! You’re a NEET!”

            Old people simply call them 'istambay' (bystanders), the middle aged straightly refer to them as burdens to the society, and the younger generations label them NEET: Not in Education, Employment or Training. They are the people who chose or fell into a life of meandering.

            The scrawny man drooped his head while he sat on the farthest seat at the store’s dining nook, waiting for his pizza sandwich and lasagna. His right eye twitched and his eyebrows furrowed as more customers kept coming in.

            After closing at nine, employees from a nearby mall visit Quick Bite for refreshments or dinner. It was also at this time that residents around the neighborhood who work or study in far cities arrive home. Being close to an e-tricycle terminal, some commuters detour to the store before getting a ride.

            Yvan had brought a soda out and was going through its nutrition label when someone sat beside him.

            “One to go meal for our NEET!” the cashier announced as he placed the bag of microwaved food on the counter. Customers in line snickered and exchanged banters as a pale Yvan walked over to the counter.

          A guy with a short bob haircut leaned to his friend, “What? I thought a NEET doesn’t come out of his room.”

            “No, that’s the hikikomori,” the friend said. The embroidered logo, which consisted of an olive wreath around a torch, on the pockets of their white, short sleeve formal shirts indicated they were collegiates.