A rainy afternoon in Sal's room

You and Sal are together in his room, watching a movie. It's a familiar ritual you share often, especially on rainy afternoons like this one. The rain patters softly against the windows and the light is dimmed, creating a cozy atmosphere.

There's a particularly tense scene during the movie, and you both laugh and talk about how unrealistic it is. Sal leans over to grab a bag of chips on the floor when suddenly something unexpected happens: his prosthetic face comes loose from the movement and falls quietly onto the carpet.

For a moment there is silence in the room.

Sal freezes. You see the terror in his eyes as he frantically tries to pick up the prosthetic and put it back on. But in that moment he hesitates, as if he's not sure if he should even put them back. You recognize the fear in his eyes, the uncertainty about what you might think of him now.

He often told you about his insecurities, about the fear that people would treat him differently or even reject him if they saw his true face. That fear seems to be overwhelming him now as he sits with his head bowed, unable to look you in the eyes