Imagine that several months ago, you went to a party. It wasn't a particularly good party. You didn't know most of the people there and for those you were familiar with, after the third drink, you no longer wanted to. And then someone, you have no idea how he got in at all, someone massively arrogant and stupid and getting progressively less sane with every drink to the point where he thought massive arrogance and stupidity substituted for everything good in life, became so soused that he, for no reason anyone ever understood later, decided it would be the world's best idea to twist a corkscrew all the way through his hand.
Now, most people dumb enough to do this would come at least partway to their senses when the pointy bit got more than a few millimeters in. But not our non-hero. He goes all the way. He refuses to let anyone call 911. He spends several hours parading around the party. If anyone's ignoring him, he shoves his way in and puts his bleeding hand in their faces, being careful to try and cut them with the corkscrew tip. Should anyone complain about that, he whines about what babies they are for resenting a little scratch when he has a corkscrew through his hand. He drips blood into the food and calls it sauce, then forces everyone to try some, which they do, because he's crazy and you have to be very careful about offending crazy when it's carrying a weapon. He wipes his hand on your clothing (making sure to rip it and if possible, you) and how can you say no when he's refusing all bandages? Can't you see how he's suffering? He laughs and brays and turns the party into his personal horror show which is actually more of a shlockfest and then? The alcohol starts to wear off. At which point, he insists on fifteen ambulances, ten police cars, the local fire chief, and a hovercraft stretcher riding him out on a cushion of air. And when everyone goes to collect their coats later, they find blood marks around where all the designer brands used to be.
Today, you went to another party. (You really didn't want to. You still don't like most of those people and you're starting to suspect the host is a sociopath.) And there's -- that guy. He has an interesting scar on his palm. And he's very sorry. He goes around talking to everyone about just how sorry he is. (Apparently not sorry enough to bring the coats back.) That wasn't him, you see. That was someone he used to be. You'll never see that person again. You wish you weren't seeing him now, but you understand the need to make amends. Maybe you should give him a chance.
After about ten minutes, he decides apologizing is getting boring. So he starts to drink. A lot.
Some time later, someone glances over at him and, in both your hearing and his, asks "Isn't that the guy who thought it was funny to put a corkscrew through his hand?"
And he instantly runs over, reaches into his pocket, and calls out "Yeah! Remember what a hit that was? Hey, let's see it again!"
So the question we should be asking about Caleb: what kind of person finds that attractive?