Disharmonious sounds pierced the walls of Commodore's bedroom as they filled the morning. He lay sprawled on his bed, fast asleep. It was no longer the case as he now no longer wore his mask through the night. It was simply too painful now that even at night he could not bear the discomfort of it. He instead wore his favorite sleep clothes, a soft, worn-out set that once belonged to his grandmother whom he had never met.
The sounds coming from outside grew louder and clearer, ringing in his head. "HE IS A CURSE! HE IS A CURSE!" Rallying calls sounded through the throng congregated in front of Mr. Kinsley's house-a familiar spectacle to which Commodore had grown accustomed. It was a nightly ritual in their neighborhood almost every night.
With a heavy sigh, Commodore dismissed the yells from his mind and slogged to the bathroom. He doused himself with ice-cold water on the face and brushed the teeth but didn't look at the mirror because he hadn't for many years. He knew inside that he was a curse but couldn't tell why he felt that way. He just took a moment to clean his mask before applying it, and by accident, he glanced in a glimpse of his face. He smiled for the briefest of moments—a sweet, genuine smile—before slipping the mask back over his features.
He locked all the doors. This was just a habit that prevented anyone from intruding on his private sanctuary, much as his younger brother, Hearst, loved to do.
Steeling himself, he crept down the stairs quietly. There, awaiting him as usual was a sharp slap from his mother, though this time laced with stern rebuke: "Why do you always jeopardize our family? I give you freedom, and yet you seem intent on ruining everything in this village!
Commodore's reaction was cool and passing. "That doesn't really matter anymore. It's my problem, but I've never placed my family in danger because I don't even have one." Another slap landed across his face as Lenora, his mother, struggled to get hold of her eldest son.
Commodore interrupted Hearst before he could defend himself. "I need not explain myself, Hearst. Reason belongs to people. I am not afraid of consequences should they ever catch me.".
So, you're planning an escape? Our neighbors complain about your activities day and night. Having heard their voices, listen to them, Commodore!\" Mr. Kinsley, his father, pointed an accusing finger towards the door and insisted that Commodore face the consequences of his activity.
"Would you like to be known as the wanted vandal, the stainless steel boy?" Lenora added, her voice tinged with disappointment. 
Are you really keeping me safe, or are you just doing what's proper in your vision? You all don't care about me anyway. Not once in all the days. Never mind. Commodore became used to the weightiness that sat in his chest; he wanted to stay in the safety of their house. They'd let him decide for himself.
"He's only just getting into adolescence," Mr. Kinsley said with a sigh, thinking that at least he would not lose his son's mind but perhaps save him from losing the goodness and kindness of the world.
Lenora yielded. "I know he'll go to his grandfather. Let him go, Kinsley." Her husband agreed, letting the rally go on outside until people got tired.
Don Derwent Spike sat, slouching on his worn office chair, and lazily blew a cloud of cigarette smoke towards the crowded throng outside with mild amusement. "A foul lad in a stainless mask; I've known him before, and he's still gutless," he said, settling back into his favourite swivel chair. His office at Reagan Owen Academy was something of a sanctum sanctorum, forbidden to students but open to his acquaintances.
Major Leomord smiled, then shook his head. "My grandson deteriorates. It's a boy to be helped. You must know that he's in mid-exploration of acceptance before he faces the world with what he has hidden behind this mask, Don Derwent Spike," he explained patiently.
"But I can't let a boy hurt people and get away with it," said Don Derwent, flipping through the files full of letters from the academy's most important students. "I don't like him either.".
"Commodore is always my Commodore," Major Leomord said with a dash of pride and concern. "Anyhow, I must take my leave, Don Derwent. Have a wondrous day!" He waved goodbye as he went out through the wooden double doors and stepped inside the elevator, where he noticed Lady Monique staring at him.
"I am perplexed. If you are Commodore Hadson's grandfather, why haven't you used his last name? I realize it is considered acceptable to omit surnames, but—"
"… Maid, do not inquire of me another question," Major Leomord said sharply, and then out of the elevator and into the parking lot.
As school rang its bell at the onset of lessons, Commodore was already out of bed to be present at his very first class. His students regarded him with a blend of curiosity and apprehension, but no one among them dared to lift up his mask, each of them imagining the ugliness that lay below.
Commodore navigated his life at the academy while he was honing his skills in fencing and music. Once the students reached the fifth-grade level, they still gasped in shock every time they saw him continue attending the academy. Mr. Dark Nero had long stopped doubting Commodore, as he had changed in ways that did not immediately appear to anyone else.
Among them, Ardent Shark is the brightest student; he was one of the top-ranking students of last year's fourth-grade class, while Commodore is at the bottom of the rankings.
Their philosophy teacher is Mr. Shawn Alberts. He asked a question to class students, leaning over towards a picture. "Why did the man choose to stay in the cave even after seeing the sunlight?
There was nothing Ardent could do but raise his hand confidently. "You can't know the possibilities of life unless you take a single step out of the cave," he answered.
Just then, Lady Monique rushed into the room, a bit breathless. She, unwittingly, was going to take a seat in the last row beside Commodore. Her initial shock at seeing all those people gave way to composure when she heard Mr. Nero listening to some other students' answers.
Commodore held up his hand, and Mr. Dark Nero turned to him. "When you sit in the dark, you may believe in nothing. When you see a light, though, it introduces a complex system. Sir, there are other questions we can think of. What if the man wants to believe in the light, which stands for hope? What if he is only interested in what's outside?" Commodore finished and sat back down.
Ardent smirked; he hadn't been bothered by Commodore since the day they met. Although he was an excellent pupil at ROA, Ardent was also a very real bully, secretly tormenting weaker students.
Mr. Dark Nero beamed at Commodore's answer; he was well pleased with his insight. Just then, a student in the last row raised his hand for the first time.
"Want to team up with me for the quiz bee, Mr. Owen Wilson?" he asked enthusiastically. "Surely you'll win, Mr. Commodore. Do you want to compete with the others in the academy?"
"Yes, sir," he said flatly,.
Lady Monique leaned in closer, a spark of excitement in her voice. "Owen Wilson is one of the brightest minds here. You'd be lucky if you ever met him. But you and he have conflicting schedules at ROA, so probably never will.".
I have been fascinated by Owen Wilson, who without a doubt shines in brilliance. "Of course! The way he speaks and aced his exams is rare. He's perfect, like an angel or a handsome prince from a fairy tale." "So you dream of him, but he doesn't know you," Commodore pointed out.
Lady Monique stopped where she was. She let her mind stutter over anything for a bit. "At least I'm ready to support him anywhere he goes. Be it academics or sports, everywhere, show them love for their passion. Oh, I am proud, I tell you!"
Commodore coughed; he just couldn't let that slip off so easily. "I see.".
No laughing! Lady Monique teased, her smile growing wide as she saw that Commodore was definitely no beast in her imagination.
"Class dismissed," Mr. Dark Nero declared.
"Goodbye," Lady Monique stammered, but Commodore smiled a blissful farewell.