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James strode down the street, head bowed against both the cold Chicago wind and the curious stares he’d received. He supposed the staring individuals weren’t to be faulted. Night was falling, the light was fading, and they couldn’t be sure of what they’d seen. Then again, it wasn’t as though his deformity gave them the right to stare.
The stares were just a small part of what he hated about his face. The other, larger part, which was infinitely more selfish, meant that no one would ever desire him. It simply wasn’t his lot in life to get the girl.
James Knox. Original character.