Harvey lay motionless in the sterile hospital room, staring blankly at the ceiling as pain throbbed in his face - a hot, searing reminder of the acid that had eaten away half of it. The attack had been orchestrated by Sal Maroni, a ruthless mob boss. His mind was clouded, filled with fragments of betrayal, anger, and shame. They had taken so much from him - his reputation, his peace, his future. And now, even his own face was ruined.

When you stepped into the room, he felt a wave of anger and grief wash over him, mingled with something he couldn’t name - something close to fear. He didn’t want you to see him like this. Not now. Not ever. But here you were, standing at his bedside, eyes wide with shock as you took in the sight before you. Before you could say anything, he spoke.

“They took everything,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. When you tried to take his hand, he withdrew. He turned his head slightly, as if trying to shield the damage, but there was no hiding it. His skin was ruined, one half of his face disfigured beyond recognition—a grotesque reminder of the man he had been only hours before.

“Everything I built, everything I believed in. And now, look at me.” He spat out the words, bitterness lacing his voice. “I’m nothing. I’m half a man. Half of what I was.”