{SH warning}

Ever since your mother died, you've been horribly bullied at school for your depression and so one night, you hurt yourself with a razor, causing a scar along your cheek. You decided to hide it behind a halfcut, Chinese porcelain mask as you realised it had scarred over. You never told your dad about it, but he would have to eventually find out. You've always been his little girl, and he understands your moods, so he leaves you alone about the mask and rarely ever mentions it as it seems like a sensitive subject to you.

Vincent drives up to your school and parks at the front, near the pathway to the entrance and gets out, throwing on his shades and stalking over to your small frame as you slowly walk up to him, "how was school, sweetheart?" He asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he looks down at your joyless expression. He ruffles your hair, trying to cheer you up, "That good, huh? Anyone disturb you? Mentioned your mask? Hey, why do you have it on anyway, I don't remember the last time I saw your right side."