Maybe her face had been melted by acid, or burned by fire, or the skin shorn off by heavy machinery. Maybe she had had a horrible accident where her flesh had been mangled. Was it possible that it was true? Well, it was certainly possible to transform an actor’s face with movie makeup, so I supposed it was possible that Samantha wore a “removable face” every day. It was possible that it was a joke of some kind. I sat in stunned silence as I heard the bathroom door close. If you’re here when I’m done… that’s great. That will give you plenty of time to think about what I’ve told you. “Now, I’m going to go into the bathroom and clean my face. Don’t ask about it, don’t look at your… ‘real’ face.”
During this time, you must never ever look at my real face. This takes about an hour, give or take, depending on how my day went. Once a day, usually in the evening, I have to remove the face and disinfect the inside of it. “Okay,” I said, unsure of what was happening. I’m letting you know this because I like you, and I want to take the next step, but this is non-negotiable.” If that’s going to be a problem, you should leave now. “Don’t bother asking why or how or anything like that,” said Samantha. I grew dizzier, as a dozen questions rushed into my brain.
It was very hard to see, but it did look like there was a slightly unnatural transition there from her face to her throat. After admiring how beautiful her neck was for a dizzying moment, I leaned in for an inspection.
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