High school. The scariest place on earth, even for someone who would one day become… my. Long before the summons, the knives, the rules of a good horror, there was only… my face. My resting face, specifically. They called it “RSF” – Resting Scowl Face. And the chin…oh, the chin.
“Hey, can I borrow your chin? My shoe is stuck.”
“Got a bookmark, dude? Oh, wait, your chin!”
It never stopped. Then there were the temple cavities. Apparently, they were so deep, some kids actually asked if I could eat ice cream out of them. Or popcorn. Popcorn! Absolute audacity! I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me. I really did. I was pulling my hoodie strings tight, limp, and even started wearing a cheap Halloween mask I found. I thought it would be ironic, a visual shrug at their cruelty. But it just… it hurt. Every time. My heart would ache, a dull, thundering pain that felt worse than any stab wound I would ever inflict later.
Years passed. Many, many events it happened And then, on a rainy Tuesday, during a particularly insightful therapy session (my therapist, bless her, really takes I, even when explaining the difference between a terror scare and a prolonged psychological scare), had a breakthrough. All this rage, all this… creative outlet… it wasn’t just for movies. It was for the chin. The temples. The ridicule. It was an unresolved trauma! My therapist, Dr. Loomis-esque in her wisdom, she suggested “balancing the face.” My initial reaction was to screamof course, but he assured me it was completely safe, completely confidential, and could help me feel more… emotional.
So I found myself in a sleek, brightly lit medspa. The kind of place with filtered water and muted tones. And there she was: Injector Lauren. He introduced himself with a firm handshake, a wary smile, and immediately said, “Just so you know, I do NOT like scary movies. At all”. I respected her honesty. Immediately. This was a professional.
We sat down and I, in my clearest voice (not the phone voice, obviously), explained my concerns. The RSF. The problem of the chin as a vessel. The cave temples. Lauren listened intently, nodding, occasionally making a small mark on my face with a washable pencil.
“Okay, for the chin,” she began, holding up a tiny syringe, “we can add just a touch here to create a more balanced, defined silhouette. Nothing dramatic, just a softer outline.” My mind wandered back to the shoe comments. A tear, suspiciously like a drop of fake blood, almost escaped my eye.
“And the temples,” she continued, “a little filling in here will soften the shadows, making your overall face look more harmonious, less…weak.” Gaunt. Got it!
I expressed my fears, the ones that really tormented me more than any vindictive final girl. “What if he migrates? What if I look like a grotesque clown? What if he never leaves?”
Lauren laughed, a pleasant sound. “Totally unnecessary fears, Mr. Face. We use hyaluronic acid fillers, which integrate beautifully and naturally break down over time. And if, in the very unlikely event, you never liked it, we can take it apart right away. As for looking ‘crazy’ or ‘fake’? My specialty is ‘undetectable enhancement’. You’ll just look as the best, most balanced version of yourself.”
And he was right.
The process was surprisingly gentle. A few tiny pinches, a little pressure. Lauren distracts me with gentle conversation and thoughtful questions. My “filler fears” disappeared faster than a victim running up the stairs instead of out the front door.
Now;
Now really like looking in the mirror. All she used to transform my appearance and confidence was some hyaluronic acid gel. (What a dermal filler really is.) My chin is refined, my temples match the rest of my face. My RSF is more of a “Happy Resting Face”. I still like to call people, but now it’s often to gush about my amazing results, or maybe recommend Lauren to a certain neighbor who’s always climbing. Life is good. Really good. And not one person asked to eat popcorn from my temples. Now that’s what I call a happy ending.
- For the record we haven’t faced Ghostface, but we’d be happy to.
