toney Martin is a well-known porn star whose life is filled with bright lights and photo shoots. One night when he’s helping out a friend, a thug breaks into a local diner, recognizes him, and cuts into the flesh on his face, forcing him to sink down into anonymity.
While hiding out, Stoney is discovered by Hud Spencer, a fan who has worshipped him through Baby Face Magazine for years. Hud pays to have Stoney’s face fixed. They slowly fall in love and stay together until Hud learns Stoney wants to use his new face to continue his career in porn. This causes a rift between them Hud can’t handle, so he walks out.
They move on with their lives. Stoney gets discovered by the Prima Donna Modeling Agency, and Hud starts his own software company. But at a modeling gig, they meet up once again, and neither can deny the old feelings that resurface. Should they give their love another chance, or is it dead and gone?
"Stoney ..."
The word seemed muffled and faraway, mysterious as it came out of the fog. It gave Stoney the chills, causing him to slow down and look around, and wonder if he was hallucinating the drifting shadows he thought he saw. He hurried away until he heard the voice again.
"Stoney."
He stopped again, and looked back. The fog drifted and moved like a mysterious entity as it gathered in doorways, crawled along the asphalt, and provided a thickness where attackers could hide. The atmosphere it created caused Stoney to get increasingly uncomfortable, so he decided he had better do something to protect himself. He looked around for a moment until he saw a big stick. The moment he saw it, he grabbed for it and held it out in front of him threateningly.
"I don't know who the hell you are, but you'd better back off, or I'll ..."
Just then he saw a shadow emerging from a thick bank of drifting fog. He began to back away until he saw the lights of a car flash across the man's face.
"You," he said. "I should have known. Listen, you pervert, if you don't want your fuckin' head bashed in, you'd better get out of here."
"Stoney, I don't want to hurt you. I'm just trying to be a friend."
"I don't need no friends, got that? Especially the kind that stalk me at night. Now, get the hell away from me before I blow my whistle."
"Whistle? What do you mean, whistle?"
Stoney reached down, and dragged the whistle on a chain from beneath his shirt. "All I have to do is give this one blow and the cops'll come running."
"Sure, I understand. If you're being mugged, if your life is being threatened, or if you're hurt. But that's not what's happening here."
"Then what the hell are you here for? Why are you stalking me in the middle of the night like some pervert? What the hell do you want from me?"
"Damn, Stoney, does everyone have to go through this to be friends with you?"
"It'll never happen, so give it up. To become friends, you have to have something in common. Maybe you like the same things, or you're the same age, you went to the same school, came from the same hometown. I don't know. What the hell do we have in common? A few filthy afternoons of voyeurism. Not a very stable foundation to build a friendship on."
"We're both men ... gay men."
"Oh, so that's it. You want to fuck me. No conversation, just wham bam, and it's over."
"I've got money."
Stoney felt a quick stab of pain for a moment and then pushed his hair away from the side of his face. "So this turns you on, huh? Look at me, man. I'm a Frankenstein's monster, a ..." His voice faded, sounding as if it had a sob in it. "Don't you see? I belong in this fog ... to be hidden ... to ..." Another sob.
Hud stepped up to Stoney and held him close. To his surprise Stoney didn't pull away, but lay his head on his shoulder as if all the fight had gone out of him and cried. After a few minutes, he put a hand on his chin, lifted it up, and looked down at his face full of scars, and tears. "You're seeing only the negative. I'm looking at the part of your face that is beautiful, at a body that's still straight and strong, at a man who's still worth something. Those scars take up only a small percentage of your body, and yet you let them rule your life."
"I was a fuckin' model," Stoney sobbed. "Do you think they'll want me to stand up in front of a camera with a face like this?"
Hud didn't say anything. He just leaned down, kissed him, and then reached down and subtly took the stick out of Stoney's hand and threw it down.
"Satisfied?" Stoney asked softly. "All it took was a kiss to get my weapon away from me. Now, what are you gonna do?"
"Anything you want but leave. You need help, Stoney, and I can give you that help. I can get those cameras to clicking again if you'll just let me."
Stoney stepped back and looked at Hud. "What the hell are you saying?"
"I've got money. We can get your face fixed."
"Yeah? At what cost to me? My body, my life ... my soul? I know who you are now. I think they call you Satan." He turned to leave.
"Do you always jump to conclusions like that?" Hud called out. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you. Of course I want you. You know that, but that's not the price for fixing your face."
"No?" Stoney said, then turned to Hud. "Then what is?"
Hud closed the space between them, and said, "Maybe I just want a friend. Someone to pal around with. Someone to share my deep thoughts with. Hell, maybe I'd like to get your opinion on the Giants or the Jets. We can talk about the scores, the latest trades ... whatever."
"Yeah? And then what?"
