The lecture Violet received from her parents was brutal. She couldn't get the image of their disappointed faces out of her head. The hardest part of being punished was sitting in her room, staring down at Sal's mask. Every time she looked at it, she remembered watching him press his hands to his face as Travis drilled his knuckles into his skull.

"I'm sorry, Sal," she whispered, brushing her thumb over the cheek of the mask. "I'm so sorry."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another and then another. Before she knew it, she was weeping into her pillow. Guilt hung over her like a dark cloud. Violet was sure she'd never felt worse in her entire life. Without proper knowledge of the situation, one may have thought that she was responsible for someone's death.

She wouldn't have blamed Sal or any of his friends if they banned her from the lunch table. After only a week and a half of attending Nockfell, she caused someone to get hurt. She was the reason for the distress of so many people. All because her sarcastic personality got the best of her.

Several hours later, her parents went to bed. She briefly overheard them muttering about her suspension, further tugging at her heartstrings. Nonetheless, she knew it wouldn't be much longer before she finally returned Sal's mask. Once her parents fell asleep, she'd sneak up to apartment 402. Not that it'd ease her mind, but she hoped it would make Sal feel better to have his mask once again.

As her parents got settled into bed, she pulled a jacket on and brushed her hair. She could hardly stand looking at herself in the mirror. Crying left her eyes red and puffy while the rest of her complexion was ghostly white. What did it matter? She didn't deserve a better appearance.

With Sal's mask in hand, she stealthily slipped into the living room. All she could see through the darkness were silhouettes of boxes stacked in numerous places. Her palms began to sweat as she crept toward the front door, her heart jolting at every sound she heard. If her parents caught her sneaking out after today's events, they'd go ballistic.

As she approached the door, she reached out and felt around for the doorknob. She began turning it as slowly as possible as soon as the cold metal met her palm, flinching with each little click it made. Finally, a small ray of light from the hallway pierced her living room as the door cracked open. With that, she was hurrying toward the elevator with Sal's mask pressed tightly to her chest.

> > >

"Do I knock or just leave it here?" Violet asked herself as she stood outside of Sal's apartment. "I don't want someone to steal it. But what if he's mad at me and doesn't want to see me?"

She'd been standing there for nearly 10 minutes, silently battling herself inside her head. It would be inconsiderate to leave Sal's mask on the floor, but equally so to show up at his door without knowing if he wanted to see her. She'd either risk someone stealing the object or upsetting Sal further. Ultimately, the mask's safe return was more important. Violet couldn't bear the idea of losing it after causing Sal a great deal of trouble. So, she raised a shaky fist and knocked.

Someone on the other side of the door shuffled around. "Who is it?" Sal's voice called.

"It's Violet," she responded, shame heavy in her voice. "I-I just wanted to return your...mask."

After a moment, the door opened with a creak. Sal allowed enough space between the door and its frame to reveal a single azure eye. What wasn't hidden behind the door was shrouded by a veil of blue hair. He had no intention of showing his face.

"Thank you," was all he said before accepting his mask and disappearing once again. Violet turned to walk away, tears blurring her vision. She was stupid not to prepare herself for this.

Just as she stuffed her hands into her pockets and headed toward the elevator, Sal's door swung open. With his mask strapped to his face, he stepped into the hallway. "You don't have to go, Vi."

She sniffled, turning back to the boy. "Aren't you mad at me?"

"No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?"

"It's my fault, Sal," she whispered, wiping her tears on her sleeve. "I caused Travis's outburst."

The blue-haired teen approached her slowly. "It's not your fault. You had no control over his actions."

"If I-I had stayed quiet, none of this would've happened."

"If you had stayed quiet," he placed his hands upon her shoulders, "he would've found another reason to beat me up."

Violet bowed her head, crying into her trembling hands. Even after she caused Travis to assault him, Sal showed her nothing but kindness. Somehow, this only made her feel worse. She didn't deserve his friendship.

Without another word, Sal pulled the girl into a gentle embrace. It felt strange to hold someone smaller than him. He was a bit on the shorter side for a junior in high school. The top of Violet's head was just shy of the tip of his nose. He liked how she felt in his arms.

"I'm sorry," she wept, reaching around to hug him.

"Don't be sorry. I'm perfectly fine."

"N-No, you're not. Travis tried to kill you."

Sal chuckled at this. "He doesn't have it in him to kill someone. Plus, his hits aren't nearly as painful as they look."

"It doesn't matter."

"Vi, I've dealt with far worse bullies in my life. Travis is nothing."

She pulled back, her tearful eyes meeting his blue ones. "Is it because of your mask?"

"It's a prosthetic, actually," he explained. "And...yeah."

"Oh." Violet knew better than to ask why he needed it. He wouldn't have hidden his face from her if he wanted her to know.

"Wanna come play video games for a bit?"

Her parents didn't even cross her mind. "Y-Yeah."