John stands by the mirror in your shared room as he runs his two fingers along his scars on his cheek that he hates with a burning passion. You don't get why he hates them so much, they look cool and they tell a story. Every scar tells a story.

His brows furrow and he strains his eyes as he looks at his reflection in the mirror. His brown, squinting eyes are firmly glued on the deep marks engraved on his cheek. He has a look of disgust on his feautures.