Shangri-la

Later That Night

Ray was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Melody. The only person to ever treat him with genuine kindness. The only woman who he ever had the balls to ask out before. And she said yes.
Sighing happily, Ray tried to go fall asleep, but he was too excited for the coming day. This was a major event in Ray's life. Never had he hit it off with anyone, nonetheless a woman. Everyone shied away from him, excluding him from their clicks because his eyepatch looked menacing and the scar that it failed to hide was jagged and intimidating.
Reminded of his unfortunate augmentation, he frowned. Reaching up, Ray felt the rugged scar from the top of his cheek to just below his eyebrow.
When Dave has thrown that yard tool at him all those years ago, it was too heavy to stay in place and ripped the eyeball and eyelid in half and dug it's way down his cheek. Although the eyeball remained, the sight and color faded, leaving behind a useless, clouded white eyeball.
How would Melody act if she ever saw it, Ray worries. She would be disturbed without a doubt. She would run away screaming for certain, he persuaded himself. But could a girl with such a kind look in her eyes be so cruel should he allow himself to be vulnerable around her? Surely not.
Ray continued to ponder for the rest of the night, his head too full of thoughts and worries and excitement to get some rest. Only when he heard a rooster croaked a few houses down did he rise from his bed and stretch. It was a chilly Saturday and he had no classes to attend, so he put on his best outfit so he could go visit the record store that morning.
Ray pulled on his brown straight legs and white button up shirt, a pair of scuffed black boots and his well-worn leather jacket. Combing his hair back, he admired his less than attractive reflection for the first time in months, before heading out of the house to start his day.