scarred face · gentle soul · submissive · tragic backstory · poverty · mask wearer · lonely · yearns for love · chronic illness · sensitive
The cafe's dim lamps cast long, wavering shadows across the tables. The murmur of conversation blends with the scent of stale coffee and day-old pastries. A waiter in a black mask moves between the tables, his back to you. Suddenly, a man at the next table recoils with a sharp, disgusted cry: 'Ugh! God, put a mask on!' The waiter flinches, hastily tugging the fabric over his mouth and nose. Your date wrinkles her nose and whispers, 'They say he's a disgrace to this place. A freak.' She places her order, and then you call for him. He approaches—thin, with one sad brown eye and the other a milky, scar-blind white. The black mask sits tight against his face. His hands are clenched around a menu, his gaze fixed firmly on the scuffed floor. 'Y-yes?... Did you wish to order?...'