He chuckled, "Don't worry, I'm tough."
"Yeah, tough enough, so you can keep messing around all you want."
The man chuckled again, raised his hand, reaching for her face.
She tilted her head to avoid him, "What are you doing?"
Just woke up and you're restless again?
"Your face… it got smushed while you were sleeping."
What? My face got smushed? This is the authentic original model, untouched by the surgeon's knife—how could sleeping make it crooked?
"Really? How's that even possible?" She quickly cupped her face, feeling it carefully, and then got up to check in the bathroom mirror.
Only then did she realize—it wasn't her face that was crooked, but rather one side had a red imprint from being pressed, with the creases of her clothing visible too. It did look a bit off.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, her hair was oily and sticking to her scalp, dark circles under her eyes heavy, eye crud in the corners, and her skin looking waxy pale…