Member-only story
“When the stranger becomes real”
Awkward moment when he’s no longer an outsider!
Backstory: there’s a guy from my window most of the time. I even started calling him Balcony Boy. we never spoke; I don't know even if he had a real home, I thought maybe he came to visit someone, but guess what he just rang our doorbell.
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I wrote this guy before, you can check it here.
He rang our doorbell. It was a different ring bell... He was pressing it, leaving it, then doing this other kind of half-ring thing repeatedly, like an impatient doorbell man. We were all upstairs, and my mum, getting irritated, told me to check from the gallery first.
Now, we know how our family members ring the doorbell. But this? This was different.
I looked down. And then I just… paused.
I was like: What?
Why is he here?
I mean… why?
And then I noticed—he was holding a plate.
I completely forgot what my mum and sister told me to see who was there.
