“Welcome everyone,” she says. Her voice is surprisingly hard. The kind of tone that doesn’t tolerate bullshit. “For those new to the group, I’m Patricia. We have one rule here. Radical honesty. No filters. No judgment. What’s said here stays here.”
People nod. A few murmur agreement.
Patricia’s eyes land on me. “We have a new member tonight. Would you like to introduce yourself?”
Every head turns. I can feel their attention like heat from a grill too close to my station.
“Marco,” I say. My voice comes out muffled through the mask. “I got mauled by a bear.”
Silence. Then someone laughs. Not cruel. Just surprised.
“A bear?” The guy with burn scars grins. “In New York? That’s metal as fuck, man!”
Despite everything, I almost smile.
Patricia gestures around the circle. “Most of us have stories. Car accidents. Fires. Assaults. Illness. The cause matters less than what comes after. The grief. The adjustment. The rage.”
Rage. Yeah. That tracks.
“Before we start,” I interrupt. “Can I confirm there are no cameras? No recordings?”
Patricia nods. “Phones off or in the basket.” She nods to the basket next to the mirror. “We take privacy seriously here.”
I stand up, pull out my phone. As I walk to the basket, I text Jag one more time:Confirm no cameras on the premises.
His response:Verified. You’re clear.
I drop my phone in the basket. Half a dozen others are already inside.
At least these people follow rules.
I return to my chair. The metal feels cold through my jeans. Everyone else looks settled. Comfortable even.
But me?
I feel like a fraud.
Then again, I always feel like a fraud. Money usually buys enough distance that no one notices. Works in boardrooms. Investor meetings. Michelin star dining rooms where everyone’s too polite to call out your bullshit.
Doesn’t work here.
Here I’m just another damaged face in a circle of damaged faces. No net worth to hide behind. No empire to point to as proof I’m worth something.
Just me. And the scarring.
Fuck it.
I reach up and remove the cap.
The mask comes next.
My face is exposed. Scars and all. Under lights that hide nothing.
No one flinches. No one stares. They just nod like I finally showed up to the party.
It feels strange. Liberating in a way Ididn’t expect.
That’s when I notice him. Across the circle. A familiar face.
