Tattoo

The tattoo parlour was a relatively small place; the entry was covered in pictures of designs and cut-outs from magazines. Music played in the background- guitars and drums faintly heard from the thoroughly turned down speakers. A boy lounged in a chair, a darkly coloured magazine pressed up against his face. As I entered he dropped the magazine to his lap and looked up at me.

I guess he was pretty. A mop of dark unruly hair casually swept to the side of his head, leaving space for large, leaf green eyes lined with thin black liner. His bone structure was delicate but in the strong sort of way, a shaped jaw and smoothed over cheek-bones. The tip of his chin narrowed into a rounded tip. His skin was a pretty colour too- I can’ think of how to describe it, but lightly tanned like he’d been in the sun for the perfect amount of time, and smooth like he was wearing foundation. But he wasn’t wearing it- you could always tell.

He sat for a minute, just staring at me then broke into a smile and pushed the magazine onto the table and got up, following the magazines path onto the table and hung his legs off the edges. He had nicely shaped legs, they weren’t too thin and weren’t too fat. I looked down at my own. Fat. Thinner than last time though- the washed out grey jeans hung from my legs.

“How can I help you?” he asked conversationally, running his eyes up and down my body in a way that made me feel weird. I didn’t like it, I think.

I let my eyes drift lazily around the room, taking in the posters and designers making it clear to him I wasn’t completely decided on exactly how he could help me.

I never noticed,
No never noticed,
You’re so amazing
So a-amazing


“First tattoo?”

“Yeah,” I replied, still looking round the room, searching for something to catch my eyes. Despite everything, I didn’t know what I wanted to get. Something pretty I would like.

It sounded so stupid.

“Where do you want it?” I concentrated back on him again and paused, momentarily forgetting.

“My hip.”

“Not the showy type?” I didn’t answer. He raised his eyebrows then reached under the desk to retrieve a black book with a plain cover. He gestured for me to come over while he opened the book and set it out next to him.

Taking my time I wondered over to him and glanced down into the book, my eyes flicking from design to design as I thought of what I would actually want.

Something pretty. I couldn’t tell him that. It was already stupid I was fat, but telling him I wanted ‘something pretty’ would only increase the hilarity. He shifted every now and then as I turned the pages of the book, searching for something I thought suitable. They all looked good, but whenever I pictured them to myself all I could see was fat.

I clenched my eyes shut and breathed in deeply. I didn’t try and push it away- what was the point? It was true. I was fat. A fat faggot.

“You alright kid?” My eyes sprung open and I quickly looked up and away at the guy, heat rising to my colourless cheeks with haste.

Idiot. I looked like a fucking idiot. God I was so stupid why didn’t I fucking-

“Don’t listen to them,” Muttered the guy, slouching back into his chair and folding his arms, looking up at me form under his bangs. “The other kids, I mean. Their all a bunch of mainstream idiots you know. Nothing like us- we know what’s good for us.”

I stared blankly at him, trying to comprehend what he was on about, then it washed over me. He thought people bullied me. He thought people actually fucking noticed me.

Ha.

“Oh...” I murmured avoiding his gaze with quick darting movements as he stared straight at me. My eyes flittered to the book and I fixed them on a wooden anti-Christ with a viper twisting up the length of it, a bitten apple laying at the feet of the upside-down cross.

“How old are you?”

“17.”

“They still do that at your age? What a bunch of losers. Listen kid, just come down here and sit with me for a bit whenever anything’s up, you can talk to me. Even if it’s not about those sad excuses for ‘young adults’ I was like you once, not too long ago mind you, I’m only 20,” He chuckled “But seriously kid, I’m here.”

It was odd. You know, I didn’t know him, I didn’t even know his name, but he was offering me help. Not like the councillors did, but in a friendly slightly off-hand way which was completely narrowed to my way of thinking.

Much more appealing than an old man with droopy eye lids and a clipboard.

“Yeah.” I muttered, my mind wandering elsewhere from the current uncomfortable situation I was trapped in.

In case God doesn’t show
And I want these words to make things right,
But it’s the wrongs that make the words come to life,
Oh, who does he think he is?

“I can tell you’ll take a while- take the book with you, I’ll doubt anyone else will come in- just bring it back tomorrow, yeah? Otherwise I’m dead meat man; I’m pitching my wage on you.” I nodded and picked the book up, attempting to close it with one hand then realising, y hands just weren’t big enough for that and getting the other one involved. I heard the guy laugh and tried not to get embarrassed. Just because my hands weren’t quite as big as the rest of me- maybe that was an understatement saying I weighed too much to start with. Tucking the book under my arm I said a brief thanks and walked towards the exit, clearing my mind of the pure confusion that man had caused.

“Oh wait!” I glanced back, standing at the entrance. Usually, I wouldn’t stop. “The name’s Alex, Alex Longsfield.”

“Jasper.”

I walked from the shop.