Face (27 page)

“You ever hear of the halo effect?” he says,
conversationally.

I shake my head.
He takes my hand, the same as before.

             
“It’s this Psychology theory from way back, the late 1900’s, which goes, basically: if you and I went in front of a jury for the same crime, I’d probably get found guilty and you’d get off.  Because people
think
they get an overall impression of your character from your face; the right face is your halo.”

             
“What’s your dad got to say about that?”

             
“His exact words were:
don’t end up in front of a jury
.”

I laugh
and find myself thinking like the film-maker, imagining how that exchange will come out onscreen. Did my laugh sound forced? Is this how it’s been for Cliff? This is officially doing my head in. I pull my hand out of Cliff’s grasp because suddenly I need it; I grab the rim of the fedora and lift it off my head.

             
“I’m ready to destroy your hat.” I tell him.

T
his is the ending I had planned: destruction. Crushed cameras underfoot, sudden darkness for anyone who dares to watch this film. Cliff takes my arm.

             
“Keep it on. I’m... almost done, I swear. Then you can kill the cameras.”

I lower the fedora.
“I invited you here for a reason. You have given me more than you can ever know. Now I’ve got something for you.”             

Cliff
raises his head from the tunnel, releasing the knot from the metal. Is this actually going to happen now? I’ve got this wrong at least twice before. I tug the fedora firmly back down to make sure I capture every second of this; his fingers fumble and I get that flutter of anticipation that used to happen when Dollar slid out of my phone. This will be like nothing I’ve seen before. Come on Cliff, nobody takes this long over a knot!

             
“I may need some help.” he says

I notice h
is hands are shaking, this is rapidly becoming real. I move up onto my knees and shuffle closer along the base of the tunnel, our eyes are now level and that’s when I know for sure: he wants me to do this. When I reach around his head to unpick the knot, it is already so loose it comes apart in my hands. So I unwrap him. It’s hard to be slow, the two ends of the scarf come around his head and away from his face and I hold the grey fabric up like a veil in the air between us, before I let go. It flutters down, easy as that. He might have caught it in his lap, I don’t know. Cliff has a face. One word sticks on my lips, I force it at him:

“Liar.”

Everything fits on hi
s face, every plane. I watch his fingers press at the tell-tale tightness in his cheeks. His face is so generic, so easy on the eye. Trust me when I say that you will have seen a face just like it, on every billboard since the beginning of advertising. That lantern jaw, those bland good-looking features, it’s a face to disappear with. He fits; therefore he is free.

             
“How long...?” I manage.

             
“This is the face you held, when it was fresh from the box.”

             
“But why? What made you decide to..?” I can’t even say the word.

             
“‘Us-’ whatever that means.”

I did this to him.
Something brushes my hand and I realise he is trying to present me with the folded scarf. He opens my fist, presses the soft bundle into my palm and folds my fingers around it. I feel his warm breath on my face, when he speaks.

             
“I played our ending over and over in my mind, but I always came back to the same conclusion: an Update was the only way. I couldn’t stand to bring your tight smile back at me, like we never met. I’ve seen your smiles change, I know what they mean. I needed things to stay the same between us...do you understand?”

Cliff
runs a thumb over my dimple- the place it would be, if I were smiling.

             
“This is me...the ending is up to you, True.” He says.

The lips I have pictured for so long.
Straight whites follow; he’s giving it the famous Dollar gaze, trying to encourage something out of me, but I refuse to be rushed. His grey eyes continue to serve their purpose; a quiet decoy.

             
“Reverse it.” I say suddenly. “I need to see your Original face.”             

E
ven as I hear myself say the words I know this is impossible. Cliff does not have My Face History; his Natural face was not a template to be purchased from, and stored by Ultiface.

             
“I can’t. It’s gone.”

It’s not the first t
ime I’ve been shocked by a face and my eyes continue to circle his easy features, searching for something I can’t articulate until it finally hits me:
Cliff is still hiding
. Because nothing is advertised in this face, nothing shouts look at me: I’m direct and intense, but only if you’re up to the challenge; I’m funny; I’m protected by love and self-protected; but I get angry and I lie. His face is so familiar that it is has ceased to be an advert of any kind- and that’s the point. He knows I don’t need an advert; I want him already. My dent comes.

“You’re cleverer than you look” I say.

He laughs and I give him a flash of the Blocker, my hidden smile just for Cliff. (You don’t see that in the film because I’m wearing the fedora, so you only get to see Cliff.) Well, I’m telling you my face has just performed the perfect ending, but due to the hat situation, we couldn’t put it in. You only get to watch him crack a smile like Cliff at last, all cocky; because this is the smile he’s been waiting for, this is the ending he planned all along.

Reviews of
: ‘Beyond the Mask: Girl Meets Boy,’ a film by Cliff Mortimer and True O’Reilly.

By focusing solely on True’s face in the presence of Cliff, we are immersed in Cliff’s world, the world of an Original, a teenager trapped in time. True’s face is a revelation, compelling throughout her often uncomfortable journey, yet we never lose sympathy for her. It is all too easy to identify with True’s struggle to trust a boy in hiding.

Merlot, Maverick face of Ultiface.

Click here for new range of Maverick dimples.

I so knew Cliff was hiding something.

Seven,
classmate.

One complaint: there was a girl, there was a boy, and the scarf was finally off. Where’s a green button when you need one?
You and your bad decisions
, kids!

Dollar
.

The mask is finally removed, only to reveal another one underneath. I lost my son to a girl. It’s a tragedy of our times.

Forest
Mortimer, founder of Campaign for Original Face, and father of Cliff.

Epilogue

After our film ‘Beyond the Mask: Girl Meets Boy,’ was released, I was labelled ‘The Face of the Future’. Maybe you’ve heard already, maybe that’s why you’re reading this? Totally hilarious, isn’t it? Now you know the whole story.

Cliff looks as much like Dollar as I look like Merlot, these days. After the
initial publicity surge was over we decided to go Maverick together and we still turn heads. We like to turn heads- it won’t last for long. I never did see Cliff’s Original face. He deleted all photographic evidence of it before commencing the Update. Cliff tells me, all casual, that he gets an occasional reminder of it when he’s out- with all the new Maverick faces about. Sometimes I ask him to draw his Natural face for me, but he only ever gives me the look he reserves for me in this moment; curse those quiet eyes. And if I’m recognised on the streets, I still get questions about his face more than any other, and I always say this: Cliff’s face is one thing to strangers; but a different thing to me. Faces change. He showed me a different kind of perfection.

..........................................................................................................................................

A plea from the new author:

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this book, I hope you enjoyed it.

If you did, I would be endlessly grateful if you could post a super-quick one-line review, or just a rating, on the Amazon website. My future lies in your hands!

I can be contacted on: [email protected]