Jak Sparkle was a man. A man like many men, except for his ability to transform. Jak Sparkle, when facing embarrassment, did not blush red like you or me. No, he glowed. Glowed until his head was a shining white, bright bulb. A bulb so bright it dazzled all those who looked at him.
And how they looked. But those gazes never were never met by Jak. The glow it shielded him. And those fingers pointing went unseen; the little nudges and head tilts unnoticed, and even the sniggers, the low whispers, those went unheard. Jak was impenetrable. Impervious. He could just walk on by, not fazed, unaffected.
Now, it was not always like this for Jak. Times were when Jak would burn with embarrassment. His face roasting red when mouths would hang open in shock at seeing Jak pass by. He tried wearing wide-brimmed hats, wearing long-peaked caps, wearing baggy-hanging hoods. He tried large sunglasses and long, bushy beards. He tried not going out. He tried and tried and tried. And then one day, his embarrassment blushed until it burst and popped into that glowing, white, impervious bulb. Jak was saved. But saved, only when his awkwardness overwhelmed him. And lately he was just not getting as embarrassed as he used to.