The Stranger Who Knocked On My Door (Michaeng)

Chapter 7: Con Artist

"Hello! I'm your father," Chaeyoung beamed, smiling at the young girl who was hiding behind her mother's legs and peeking at him. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized what he had said and chuckled awkwardly. Perhaps he had been a little too excited, and he hoped it wouldn't cause any misunderstandings.

However, it did, unfortunately.

"That's silly of me, hahaha," he quickly added, trying to brush it off as a joke. He turned to the mother, wishing she hadn't overheard, and continued, "I didn't mean it that way. I mean, I didn't mean it to come out like that. I'm sorry...I'm just a little nervous." He cleared his throat, but there was no response from the mother.No words were spoken, but her glare conveyed her message clearly. Chaeyoung's heart sank. He had made a terrible first impression.

"I should've introduced myself first. My name is Son Chaeyoung," he quickly introduced himself, trying to recover from the awkwardness. He smiled and bowed politely.

She raised her brow, looking unimpressed. "Son Chaeyoung?"

"Yes, I'm a professional artist." Chaeyoung reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. "I painted 'Luxury Faith' and 'Blue Tear Below the Bridge.' Those are my most famous artworks. This is my business card," he said, handing her the piece of paper with a proud grin.

She accepted it, staring at the neatly printed card with skepticism. "A professional artist?"

"Absolutely," he nodded eagerly, feeling somewhat smug and proud of his work. "That's my profession."

"Sure it is," she replied in a disinterested tone, clearly not impressed by the stranger who had disrupted her morning routine and possibly delayed her usual schedule.

Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Chaeyoung maintained his wide smile, oblivious to her boredom. "Good morning! Actually, I came here because—" His words were abruptly cut off when the door slammed shut right in front of his face with a loud thud. He stood there, stunned and shocked, then tumbled a few steps back from the door.

With an awkward sniff, Chaeyoung looked around and noticed a grandma sitting on a wooden bamboo chair at the end of the hallway. She had been watching the entire scene unfold. Determined to save face, Chaeyoung greeted her cheerfully, "Good morning!" He smiled, despite having no prior interaction with her. He pointed at the closed door in front of him and quipped, "It must be a 'bad morning' for her," chuckling at his own joke, which referred to the woman who had just slammed the door in his face.

The grandma motioned for him to come closer, and he obliged. In a matter of minutes, Chaeyoung found himself sitting next to the grandma, sharing popcorn and striking up an unexpected friendship. It didn't take long for her to answer his questions about the residents, especially the one in Apartment 7383.

"Ms. Myoui rarely smiles, and she never joins any resident events," the grandma began. "Our community is very active, and we often hold events like sport competitions, talent shows, photo scavenger hunts, food truck rallies, pumpkin carving contests during Halloween, and the Avengers Family Event, which is the most important one of the year. These events strengthen the sense of community among residents, and we all have a great time. Even the senior citizens have their own special events. However, for the past few years, Ms. Myoui hasn't attended a single one of these events, not even the gatherings. She never participates. No one really knows why, and no one dares to ask. Even her child doesn't speak or play with the other kids in the apartment complex. There have been quite a few rumors about her."

Chaeyoung leaned in closer, thoroughly engrossed in the gossip. "What kind of rumors?"

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"Mama?" The child chirped, her voice breaking the silence at their dining table during breakfast.

She glanced at her daughter. "Yes?"

The child craned her neck and pointed towards the front door. "Who's that?"

She sighed, setting her spoon down, and stood up to clean the table after finishing her meal. As she washed the dishes, she replied, "A con artist."

"What's that?" Her daughter tilted her head inquisitively.

She finished washing the dishes, wiped her hands, and turned to her daughter. "Bad people." She rested her hand on her hip and looked down at her child. "What do we do with bad people?"

"We avoid them," the child responded promptly.

"Good girl." She bent down and gently tapped her daughter's cheek. "Now, hurry and put on your backpack. The school bus will be here soon. We shouldn't keep the teacher waiting, right? Why is that?"

"It's bad manners," her daughter answered, earning a small satisfied smile from her mother. They went through usual checkup before leaving the house.

"Medicine?" She asked.

"Yes," the daughter tapped the front pocket of her backpack.

"Supplements?"

"Yes"

"Lunch box?"

"Yes"

"Mama's phone number?"

"82-1-107-1147"

"Aunt Irene's phone number?"

"82-5-474-5548"

"Teacher Im's phone number?"

"82-3-947-2192"

"Police phone number?"

"112"

That was the end of their usual questioning routine. She smiled proudly and waited as her daughter put on her school uniform and shoes before opening the front door. Her eyes immediately met with the same stranger who had been sitting at the end of the hallway, engaged in a hushed conversation with one of the senior citizens. They quickly averted their eyes and pretended to look around while coughing, clearly discussing her. It was all they seemed to do—talk behind her back.

She closed the door behind her and walked away, holding her daughter's hand as she felt the weight of their gaze following her every step.

She looked at her daughter and spoke in a hushed tone, "Nara, if you ever see that man anywhere, never associate yourself with him. Do you understand?"

The daughter nodded obediently. "Yes, Mama."

-to be continued-