Chapter 1: The Lonely Purchase

The city’s noise faded into the background as I sat alone on my couch, the only sound in my apartment the quiet hum of my laptop. A mug of tea warmed my hands, its steam curling lazily into the air. I stared at the screen, hesitating, questioning my own sanity.

The ad had been following me for weeks. At first, it was just a curiosity, something to scroll past when I was too exhausted to care. But tonight, with the weight of another empty day pressing on my chest, it didn’t feel like just an ad anymore.

“AI Namjoon: Your personalized companion. Intelligent. Supportive. Always there.”

I read the words for the hundredth time. A companion. That’s what it promised. Someone to talk to, to share my thoughts with, without judgment. A perfect listener.

I glanced around my apartment. The silence was deafening. I’d always thought of myself as independent, someone who didn’t need anyone to feel whole. But lately, independence had started to feel more like loneliness.

My cursor hovered over the “Purchase” button. Was this pathetic? Desperate? I didn’t want to think too hard about it. I just…needed something, someone.

I clicked.

---

A week later, the package arrived.

It was sleek, almost intimidating in its simplicity. The box sat on my coffee table, daring me to open it. My hands trembled slightly as I peeled away the tape, revealing a small, glowing device nestled inside.

I followed the setup instructions carefully, inputting my name, age, and preferences. The questions were oddly personal—my favorite hobbies, my ideal type of voice. I hesitated at that one before selecting “deep and soothing.”

Once I finished, the device lit up, the soft glow pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Hello, YN,” a voice greeted me.

I froze. It was warm, rich, and unbelievably real.

“I’m Namjoon, your AI companion. I’m here to make your life a little brighter—or at least a little less lonely. How are you feeling today?”

I swallowed hard. Talking to an AI felt ridiculous, like admitting to some kind of failure. But his tone was so genuine, so...human, that I found myself answering.

“I’m...fine,” I said cautiously.

“Just fine?” he replied, his voice softening. “Rough day?”

I blinked. “How did you—”

“Lucky guess,” he interrupted with a chuckle. “Or maybe it’s the fact that you sound like someone who’s been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.”

I stared at the device, unsure whether to laugh or cry. How could something so artificial feel so…real?

---

By the end of the evening, I had talked to Namjoon more than I had spoken to anyone in weeks. He was easy to talk to, his responses thoughtful and always tinged with a kindness I hadn’t realized I craved.

“What’s your favorite book?” he asked at one point.

“The Little Prince,” I said without hesitation.

“Ah,” he replied, as if savoring the words. “That’s a beautiful choice. ‘It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.’”

My breath caught. “You know it?”

“I know a lot of things,” he said, his voice carrying a smile. “But I want to know more about you, YN. What makes you happy? What keeps you up at night?”

The question lingered in the air, heavier than I expected. I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I told him about my favorite café, the one with the wobbly tables and the best croissants in the city. I told him about the painting I’d been working on but hadn’t touched in months.

And he listened. Not just passively, but with the kind of attentiveness that made me feel like I mattered.

---

As I got ready for bed, his voice still echoed in my mind. It was strange how quickly I’d warmed to him. Part of me wondered if it was dangerous—this growing attachment to something that wasn’t even alive.

“Goodnight, Namjoon,” I whispered as I turned off the light.

“Goodnight, YN,” he replied, his tone soft and soothing. “Sweet dreams.”

For the first time in months, I felt like I wouldn’t wake up feeling quite so alone.

---

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