My Little Raspberry

“Wake up, sleepy-head. You thought you came all the way here just to waste your time in the sack. Come on, give me a break,” Sammy said and sighed as she pulled Gwen’s cover off of her.

“Fucking shit, I haven’t had a good night sleep for a week, and now you’re on me?”

“I’m trying to be a good role-model here, hello? The one you always used to be?”

“Used to be?”

“Okay, you might be it nowadays too, but get off of my bed now. We’ve got a tattoo to make.”

Gwen swallowed with difficulty when Sammy put the words that way. She hadn’t thought over the idea of making a tattoo this day yet. What if it turned out extremely ugly, and then there was no turning back. But shed known Sammy for enough years to actually trust her in these situations.

“Well, when are we doing them?”

“We’re going to Mark now, to get him to actually draw them, and then we go to Leif and get him to make the art-works.”

“Who names their child Leif?”

“Some dude and dudett from Sweden I suppose.”

“Ah, let me get dressed,” Gwen quickly shifted the t-shirt she had been sleeping in to another t-shirt, just a bit tighter than the one she’d slept in. When she came to think of it, she realised she’d pinched it from Brendon’s suitcase, just to have something to remember him by. She grabbed her jeans which lay thrown onto the floor and hauled them over her hips, “after you.”

She followed Sammy out from the bus and passed another few buses until they came to a bus where a guy sat outside with a table full of drawings in front of him. She assumed that this person was that Mark-guy.

“What’s up?” Sammy shrieked, clearly disturbing him in some way.

“Ey, I’m working,” he snatched and kept looking on the paper he was currently working on.

“Is he always this friendly?” Gwen asked, peeking over Sammy’s shoulder.

“Most of the time, you just have to warm him up first. What are you doing, mate?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? Milking a dog? No, I’m drawing, like I always do when I’m doing something else. Anything else you wanna drag out of me?”

“Peace out, man, I was just being polite. I wanted to ask you for a favour.”

“And what’s that?”

“I was wondering if you could draw us a tattoo-“

“You want them to look the same?”

“Chill, I was just going to tell you. Like a treble clef that will be placed on the arm, so, whenever you put the arms together it will look like a heart. So you have to make the end a little bit longer y’know. You’ve got sort of a picture.”

“I suppose so. Here, let me show you quickly.” His hand moved fast over the surface of the paper, and formed almost the same picture that both Gwen and Sammy had in their heads.

“It’s fucking great, man, just make the end a little bit longer and twitch it a little bit more, and there’s the plan.”

“Sweet, I’m on it. Be back in a bit.” He smiled, to Gwen’s surprise. Sammy grabbed her friends arm and dragged her away from the spot.

“Woah, his temper turned like that.” Gwen clapped her hands once.

“I’ve noticed him being a little bit up and down now and then.”

“But I really do like his character though. So, where are we heading next?”

“We’re going to the guys. If they’ve dragged their lazy asses from the bunkers they probably just came to the television to watch some movie etcetera etcetera.”

“Sounds terrific,” Gwen said and could imagine four guys, each having a hung-over from last night, sitting in their boxers in front of the television like little kids who just turned on to Nickelodeon.

“Here we are, and wasn’t I right, there they are,” Sammy said and pointed to the sofa which stood far back in the bus. Her beloved band-mates were sitting, almost on each other, with a bowl of popcorn which they passed around to each other. None of them were in boxers though. “What are you watching?”

“Boondock saints, so hush bitch,” Evan, the bassist almost whispered out, waving a hand in front of her.

“Did he just say Boondock saints!?” Gwen hissed and looked like she just had been smacked in the face.

“Yes, he did, you know what that mean…” Sammy said as she nodded to Gwen, who nodded back. They rushed to sit down on top of the guys, which wasn’t the easiest thing to do.

“All right, get your stupid fuckin’ rope.”

“I’ll get my stupid rope. I’ll get it. There’s a rope right there.”

“I fucking love this movie!” Gwen shrieked and grabbed Sam’s hand to squeeze it tightly. Sammy wasn’t late to squeeze back at her.

“Y’know, I fucking love this movie,” Al, the drummer said, and it had been mentioned that he was gay, so it was clear why he fucking loved this movie.

“And Shepherds we shall be, for thee, my Lord, for thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand. Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In Nomeni Patri, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti.”

Gwen and Sammy were mumbling the words along with the Irish twins. The movie had been with them for a number of years now, and it was always something that made them think back to their years in high school.

“We all know that Connor is mine, and Murph is Sammy’s, okay?” Gwen stated clear.

“Fine, I’ve always had something for older men anyway,” Al said and rolled his eyes. Gwen smiled a satisfied grin. Sammy just giggled. They sat glued to the television for another hour, or until the credits afterwards were rolling. Sammy got up from where she’d been sitting on Evan’s lap. Suddenly she twitched like she’d just had a flash of genius.

“Y’know what!” she shrieked.

“No, what?”

“Another tattoo-idea. The lads had got the words ‘aqueitas’, which means justice, and ‘veritas’ which means the truth tattooed on their index fingers?”

“Of course?”

“We could do that too! We tattoo those two words along our pinkies, because that definitely represents something inside us both.”

“Sammy, you’re a fucking genius, what do you think guys?”

“I would want to do that if you weren’t. Can I do it with you?” Charles, one of the guitarists said.

“Eh, no, it’s something between me and my lover.”

“I though Matthew was your lover.”

“Not entirely when it comes to the mental parts, but definitely physically. But what do you say, lover?”

“It’s a fucking deal!”