He liked how dark, shiny surfaces reflect. That meant every dark, shiny surface he passed was another opportunity for him to look at himself. His pretty, pretty face - he never expected himself to have great fortunes in life because he had already struck the genetic jackpot. He felt he could not be lucky again because he got hit by his biggest windfall even before he had his first taste of life. He hated admitting this, but sometimes he marvelled at the contours of his face - how can two eyes, a nose and a mouth look so damn good when all pieced together? It made things so... easy. Cutting queues, getting girls, turning them down. Everyone was nice to him - except bitter girls who cruelly spat in his direction, "You don't know love, you only know yourself." When he heard that, he wondered if he was just nothing but a pretty face. It haunts him on nights he feels that is true.