I notice people love me when I'm far away from them, and I don't care about them or know who they are. They seem to love the idea of who I am or who they wish to see. They see the face card and wish only to see my perfection, like I am without flaws or scars. They document everything I do, stealing glances, watching for what I do wrong or what I'm not meant to do. They eagerly judge me, basing it all on my pretty face. Any rumor about me flies like a kite in the wind: 'She's rude, selfish, proud.' It's the one thing they eagerly wait to hear. Finding my flaws makes them feel better, their jealousy consuming them. I'm afraid they only get close just to find a reason to hate me."