Stranger

“Hi.”

The man’s eyes tenaciously scan over my face. It’s not an unpleasant gaze, but it also doesn’t feel innocent. I can just ignore him and leave, but it’s hard for me to do that. Every place touched by that man’s gaze stings like being shocked with electricity. When I realize those are the place hitten by Lee Sugeol, the man’s lips rise up again.

“Wanna hop in? If you have nowhere to go.”

The man nonchalantly says that obviously suspicious line. Only then do I move my frozen gaze and look at the watch inside the car. The time just passed by midnight, and the road is very quiet.

There’s Benz written in the middle of the steering wheel. The Benz which the inside is neat and decent, a watch worn by the man on his wrist, and a formal suit with a necktie that is so messy that I wonder why he wore it. None of those prove the man’s identity.

The man doesn’t even throw a poor bait like he will buy me tasty things if I follow him, or if he can let me stay in a warm place. He only watches me with a smiley face as if the choice is mine.

I have no reason to follow him. Nevertheless, there’s also no reason for me to not follow him at all. 

The worst scenario if I follow the man will be one of my internal organs get taken out. I can’t judge someone just by looking at their face, but the man doesn’t look like he takes organs and sells them. He rather looks like he will eat it himself.

Since there’s no goodwill without any price, surely I have to give something in return to this man. If it’s a small amount of money, then it’s cheap, but if it’s not, then I have to escape no matter what. Will I be able to escape? This feels somewhat different from when I followed Lee Sugeol. I have to think carefully, but I am also tired of doing that. Right now I want to go anywhere and lay down. The areas hit by Lee Sugeol begin to throb.

“What do I have to do?”

The short question turns the man’s smile deeper.

“Nothing.”

It means I can do nothing. It sounds like he sees me as an idiot who believes that, or that I should act like that. 

Then what will you give me? It’s a question I want to ask him, but since I will find out if I follow him, it will only hurt my lips if we quarreling here. The seats look soft and it looks warm inside the car. It is meaningless to think if the man will harm me or not. Because that is enough, I open the door and get in.

It is so comfortable that it’s incomparable to the bus seat. Then, when I was about to touch the soft seat with my fingertips,

“Fasten your seatbelt.”

The man says that sentence, and as soon as I fasten the seatbelt, we depart. Feeling the soft movement as if floating in the air, I look at the man with side glances. He looks like he is in his twenties, but he also looks like he is in his thirties. Looking at the car he rides or his clothes, I think he might be in his thirties, but considering his age, I’m sure he is a rich man. 

When he doesn’t smile at all, he looks completely cold. No, I mean he looks cold but also looks tired. Bored, maybe? As I keep staring at him, the car stops because of the traffic light, and I meet the gaze looking back at me. The corner of his lips slants upwards again.

The man doesn’t ask anything, and I also don’t ask. It seems like the car won’t leave Seoul. In order to remember the way, I focus on the signpost outside the window. Perhaps because the wind blown by the heater is warm, I try to close my eyes. When I start to think it’s fine to not reach anywhere and spend the day like this, the car slowly slows down. 

The car enters the underground parking lot under a building. It looks like an officetel, not an apartment, and because the surroundings look the same, it’s quiet. The parking lot is wide, and there are a lot of expensive cars.

The man cracks his neck to both sides then gets out of the car. I touch the sleeky leather for a while, then I follow him suit. We’re standing in front of the elevator when he glances at me. The elevator quickly comes down. For now, I think a criminal act won’t happen in a place like this, but I can’t be sure. This man doesn’t look like a pervert, but he seems like he can order me to do a pervert thing while smiling and not even blinking. 

Objectively, he isn’t small built, but he is shorter than me and doesn’t look like he could easily subdue me. Then, when I am about to think about the possibility that there are also other people in the officetel, 

“Since earlier…”

“…”

“You’re so passionate.”

The man turns his head, then smiles as he looks at me. I don’t react to his smile that looks like teasing me and turn my gaze. The elevator stops on the 11th floor.

There are only two houses on one floor. After the man presses the password down without any intention of covering it, the door opens. The password is of four numbers. It is absurd to boot. There seems to be a manager below and good security from the parking lot to the entrance, but from the number combination that only needs to get pressed down straight without moving fingers much, I can guess some of the man’s personality.

The entrance is clean. The only shoes are a pair of slippers and a pair of shoes the man has just taken off. I take off the dirty sneaker far from the man’s shoes and I go inside. After passing through the short hallway, I arrived at the living room.

The living room under the bright light is empty. Except for the TV on the wall and decoration under it, also the sofa, there’s no other furniture or decoration. The night view glitters beyond the wide and big window.

The doors that come into view are only three, and even there’s no household utensil in the kitchen. There is a staircase next to the section where the corridor ends, and it seems that I can go up to the second floor.

“Sit down.”

The man points to the sofa with his eyes. The current situation in this place is unrealistic. His house is much more normal than I thought, but it is more like an office than a house. Anyway, it isn’t a place where I can be.

“Do you want to drink?”

The sofa is very soft. I feel like I can quickly sleep if I close my eyes.

“There’s only water.”

The man opens the refrigerator door, then takes out a bottle of water and shrugs. He hands me the small water bottle.

“What about dinner?”

My stomach is still hungry but I give no answer. He is rather suspicious because he shows no sign of observing or being wary of me. As I only look up at him, the man completely loosens his necktie and holds his phone.

“I have to order first since there’s nothing to eat. Do kids your age like chicken?”

“…”

“Ah, what’s your age?”

The eyes focusing on the phone turn. If he raises his eyes like that, the white part is exposed more as though he is glaring, which makes me wonder if he often gets misunderstood. 

Looking at how he mentions age, it seems like he knows I’m young. If perhaps he brought me in because I’m underage, then the due date won’t last long…

“I’m underage.”

In response to my uncertain answer, the man tilts his head sideways, relaxedly loosening the corners of his mouth. Then, he calls somewhere and orders a box of chicken.

“Pay with this when it comes.”

He puts the card and handphone on the table in front of the sofa. The man takes off his suit jacket. He looks like he is about to take a shower. I quietly chase after his figure, then open my mouth. 

“Why are you so confident to leave me alone?”

I don’t care whether the man believes me or not. Even though it’s better to be alone, I ask that question on impulse. However, the man looks so relaxed that I don’t want to take back my question. That somehow annoys me.

He looks back then lets out a small smile again. His smile feels like ridiculing but I don’t feel offended.

The man puts his hand on the suit jacket he took off, then he takes out something and gives it to me. It is a business card. I look at the protruding calluses on his middle finger and receive the business card.

The first thing that caught my eye is the word prosecutor with five blue lines on top of it. Prose…cutor? When I quickly turn my head, the man’s smile deepens.

“It’s embarrassing if a prosecutor’s house gets robbed, right? So try to hold yourself.”

Ending it with that, the man turns back. He opens a door and gets in. Glancing at the tile, it looks like a bathroom.

I barely wake up from the trance and look down at the business card again. A prosecutor? The prosecutor I thought of isn’t like that. I thought a prosecutor is someone who is forceful, looks like an old man, and stubborn. Rather than a prosecutor, that man is more like a swindler who pretends to be a prosecutor.

I belatedly see his name next to the word prosecutor. My forehead furrows. It is a name that completely and will never suit the man. It’s more trustworthy if the man says he stole the business card somewhere.

Yeon Woojeong. I kept repeating the man’s name then put the business card in my pocket. The ‘Yeon’ surname is very soft and the ‘Woojeong’ name is a very optimistic word. While thinking that it doesn’t suit the man at all, I turn my gaze and look around the house. (TN: Woojeong 우정 means friendship)

All the doors are closed, and I have no desire to open them. My gaze goes upstairs, but it is dark and can’t be seen from here. I slowly lean my back on the sofa. I feel like my body will meltdown just like that. Thinking that I’m using clothes that don’t match with this comfortableness, I rather feel uncomfortable. I repeatedly lean and take off my back on the sofa, then I let out a long breath and slowly bury my body there. Even though it is very soft, my body doesn’t disappear.

Because it is a tranquil place with no clock, the faint water sound can be heard. Come to think of it, I realize that I will eat something even though it is already past midnight. My stomach is still rumbling even though it is time to sleep.

The man doesn’t come out of the bathroom. Why is he taking shower so long? I blankly stare at the turned-off TV, then suddenly the bell rings. I raise up hesitantly, but the water sound doesn’t stop. I ponder about it for a moment, then I take the card the man left. I go to the entrance and open the door.

There’s no one outside. I open the door wide and even check the backside of the door, but there’s no space enough for someone to hide. My forehead creases as I wonder if it’s a prank, but the bell sounds continue. When I turn my head to the source of the sound, I see an interphone. I quietly close the door and get in, then I stand before the interphone. There are various buttons there, and after I roughly push some buttons, the face in the monitor disappears as if the door is opened.

After waiting for a while, the bell rings again. I open the door while holding the card left by the man. After paying for it, I go to the kitchen and put it on top of the dining table. I open the plastic bag and the package, then I sit quietly waiting for the man to come out. I can eat first, but I don’t do it. It doesn’t mean I’m being courteous. I just can’t believe that I entered someone’s house and there’s something I can eat in front of me. 

Is he really a prosecutor? What is the reason he brought me in? Is he going to order me to do volunteer work?

Anyway, it’s not important for me whatever the man’s intention is for now. I have to fill my stomach first. The golden fried chicken spreads a greasy smell. He is a man with no sense. The thing I want after being hungry all day is warm rice. There’s no way this greasy thing can easily enter my stomach.