Scarred Beauty(2)

He parked the car at his own apartment building and said good evening to the security guard before he made his way to the elevator to take him up to his floor. Owning the whole building meant he could come and go at will. Most of the other residents had a curfew to allow maximum protection.

Minutes later he stood in his apartment looking in his liquor cabinet for something to keep him company. Sleep would be hard to come by with his thoughts running riot as they were.

Taking out the bottle of aged whisky, he opened the bottle, poured a generous amount in the glass followed by a handful of ice. He took a large gulp of the fiery liquid before moving through to his kitchen. The fridge held a massive amount of food. Isaac took out some cheese and pickle spread and buttered a couple of slices of bread, then spread the pickle over, following it with the cheese.

Forty years old, and besides his business he had nothing to show for his time. No family, just an endless supply of faceless women with one use: to fuck.

He bit into his sandwich and took a swallow of the strong drink. Many married men wanted his lifestyle, and yet he disliked the way he’d turned out. Once he finished his sandwich, he poured himself another whisky and went to bed.

Tomorrow he would have to face another aspect of his life he didn’t enjoy.

****

“Brad, come and check my hair out,” Noelle said as she brushed her hair. The hair dye had been a new purchase and a new colour. Ultra Violet, or a deep red as she called it.

“What the fuck have you done now?” her best and only friend and flat-mate asked as he walked into her room. He stopped, and unlike most people who gave her a look of disgust, Brad stared at her face without flinching. He was the only man to ever look at her with something other than disgust or pity.

“What do you think?” She ruffled her hair with a smile.

“Why have you changed your hair colour again?”

The smile dropped. “I wanted to.”

“I know you, Noelle. Why this time? Your hair is naturally blonde and beautiful. I don’t know why you keep changing it.” Brad folded his arms and glared at her.

She knew he would expect a long conversation, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of talking about her low self-esteem. He already knew the reason she changed her hair colour on a regular basis.

Without thinking she touched the right side of her face and winced. There was no pain, only the feel of the scarred flesh that went from beneath her eye down her cheek and neck, the scars she’d gained from a car accident over ten years ago. Brad reached out, took her hand and touched the scarred side of her face.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said. He held her in his arms as she held the tears at bay. “One day you’re going to find a man who loves you for who you are. Not the way you look.”

Noelle pulled out of his grip and turned away from him. She stared at her bedroom and around at the plain walls. For ten years she’d lived without looking in a mirror. The sight of her scars made her hate her life and what had happened to cause them. She never spoke to her family, as she couldn’t stop herself from blaming them for her ugliness.

“I’m twenty years old. That crap about falling in love and finding a man who’ll love me for me is bullshit. You know that. I know that. So stop trying to fill me up with false promises.” She folded her hands under her breasts to try to stop herself from touching her face.

“If someone can learn to love me then they can love you.”

She wanted to shout at him. His situation had been different from hers. He would never carry around physical scars on his body. Brad, or Bradley Welch, had been sober for two years. He’d suffered with alcohol and drug addiction along with a gambling problem. When she listed the problems she could understand the comparison. She’d only lived with the scars down one side of her face and neck. Brad did have the hardest thing to deal with. Every day he had to live with the temptation always in reach for the substances he craved.

Blinking back the tears she turned to him. “What do you think?”

He moved to her side, ran his fingers through her hair. “You do know men will see past your blonde hair and full figure to see the woman underneath.”

“All they have to do is get past the revulsion of the scars on my face.”

“The hair colour looks lovely, but it’s not yours. You’re only hiding. How long will this one last?” he asked.

“Until I grow bored.”

“Or until another man checks you out, sees your scars, and recoils, as you’ve said many times before.”

The first time a guy had checked her out, she’d been shopping for their groceries. Brad had pointed him out to her. Without thinking, Noelle turned round to see who’d been checking her out, only to see the guy change completely as he looked at her face. Since then she’d spent most of her time changing hair colour, which she miraculously did without the use of a mirror.