He traced the infected spots scattered across his face and frowned. Why would Sheila ever look his way when he looked like he had a permanent case of the measles. People usually avoided him like the plague and the fact that his near loss of sight which caused him to need glasses didn't help.
Maybe if he used an acne treatment cream on his face, got contacts and a hip new haircut, she'd notice him then. But why should he change? What made her, no them, so special that he needed to look like them just to be one of them. No. He would never be one of them.
He would never stoop to their level. She would have to like him for who he is, not for who she wanted him to be. He traced the acne on his face one last time and then walked out of the beauty isle. He had more important things to worry about and Sheila was no longer one of them.