(A/N: Inspired by Manny Robertson's photographs of painted scars, which you can see by going to mannyrobertson . tumblr . com)
"The City Council would like to remind you that tomorrow is Scar Day! Paint all your scars with your favorite color paint. Show off that time you narrowly survived street cleaning day, you got too close to the dog park, or even just the time you fell down the stairs trying to save your children from the black helicopters. Let's be proud of those marks, Night Vale. Get some paint and start preparing for Scar Day!"
As soon as Carlos hears this, he rolls up the sleeve of his lab coat and glances at the discolorations all over his arms. He'd told Cecil that they were from doing research projects out in the desert, but he knows Cecil doesn't believe that. Cecil's too smart, knows too much about Carlos' past to accept his false story.
He can't imagine painting the scars, revealing them to all of Night Vale. It's too personal and too sad for a town that would never be able to understand growing up in a world where being different isn't okay.
A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts, and he finds Cecil standing outside, holding a container of gold paint.
"I thought I'd help you get ready for Scar Day," he says, holding up the paint. "Gold is your favorite, right?"
Carlos nods, motions for him to come in. "Um…you know, I didn't get these scars from research projects."
"I know." Cecil gently picks up Carlos' arm and begins spreading the gold paint on the lines.
"You don't have to do this. I'd much rather just hide them. I'll wear long sleeves like I normally do. It'll be okay."
Cecil stops painting and looks into Carlos' eyes. "I want to do it. I know how you got those scars, but you should be proud of them. After all, you're still alive, aren't you?"
Carlos nods.
"You survived. Just like everyone else who'll be showing off their scars tomorrow. That's something to proud of. Being alive. Making it through tough situations." He leans over to kiss one of the scars.
"Um, Cecil?"
"What?"
"You have a little bit of paint on your chin."
"Oh, that's okay. I have a scar there anyway. I had a little bit of a mishap with a microphone a few years ago. Intern Cindy forgot to warn me that it had turned into a poisonous snake. I mean, I guess it was because she was dead, but…"
Carlos looks at the paint on Cecil's chin and on his own arms. Suddenly, Scar Day doesn't seem so terrible anymore.