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“Perfect! God... Samantha, I love it!” The girl exclaimed, studying the illustration I had drawn for her.

I winced as she used my full name, I preferred Sam, but didn’t correct her.

“You sure?” I asked, looking for any signs of doubt on her face.

I found none as she continued to gush about the brilliance of the design. It was a black guitar with a banner around the neck of it. In cursive writing it said, ‘Life.’

I eyed her again, “This is permanent, you certain about this?”

She looked at me, “Positive. I’ve been planning this for a while now.”

I shrugged and continued to gather my equipment. I invited her to sit on the chair and I found that deep sense of dread start to surface again. It reminded me of the dentist’s chair, causing a shiver to run up my spine. Her friend sat down next to her, whispering and giggling in her ear. I sighed and grabbed the plastic gloves. The fluorescent lights continued to make my eyes sore as my pounding headache screamed for me to sit down and rest. I pushed on and grabbed the bottles and needle before going to the front where the young girl was lying down on the chair.
I had been a tattooist for years, but still hated seeing girls who have just turned legal, getting tattoos just because it was what all the rock stars had. Many other tattoo artists just did the job because they had been passionate once, but had slowly just done it for the money. I was amazed that I never lost that love for the life, wild art on skin. I didn’t see the tattoos, I lived them. I was not covered in tattoos, just a couple of odd ones here and there. But when I drew them, I created the window that allowed me to watch them come to life. It was only when young adolescent teenagers came in and asked for a simple tattoo that a bit of me protested.
I opened my own tattoo parlour about two years ago, and the business had been surprisingly successful. Especially for a chick running the place, I took pride in lacking a penis. I had recruited another person to run the register as I did tattoos. Jake.
I made my way to her side as she fell silent in anticipation. I went over safety precautions; I prided myself in being a hygienic tattoo parlour. She nodded as I explained before I turned on the needle, causing a loud buzzing noise to fill the room.

“Will it hurt?” She asked, big brown eyes looking up at me.

I smiled, “A little. But no pain, no gain.”

“Okay. I’m ready.” She replied, closing her eyes.

“Try to concentrate on something else, look at the walls or something.” I suggested.

Her eyes fluttered open and began to scan the dark walls. They were covered with illustrations that I took pride in and decided to add to my wall. One of my favourites was a hand that was emerging from some dark water, its curling fingers seeming to reach out. In the background were black clouds with a striking lightning bolt that ripped across the sky. Rain pounded down on the lone hand, and on the wrist was a single word. Hope.

I brought the needle to her upper arm, brushing it against her skin. She flinched and I took it away again.

“Try not to flinch; it will only take longer and hurt worse.” I said warmly, trying not to scare her.

She nodded and I tried again. This time her arm tensed for a moment before relaxing to the pain. I went down the curve of the guitar before going up the neck. After about half an hour, I had completely traced the fine lines. An hour later and I had filled the guitar with its black polish before adding the details and banner.
I turned off the needle and stepped back to admire my work. No mistakes, I noted, happy with the final finish. The two teenagers squealed at the new tattoo, gossiping as I cleaned up. When she had paid and gone, I wiped everything down and arranged all the bottles back into their proper places. When all was done, I sat behind the counter of the average sized room and flicked through a magazine. Band t-shirts lined the wall opposite me, and merch was on the wall next to the cash register. The front of the shop was glass, in a weird cliché kind of tattoo parlou-rish way.
I looked at the vintage 50’s clock on the wall, sighing. 6:30 pm. Jake was late again. As soon as this thought crossed my mind, the front door swung open, with a breathless Jake rushing in. He saw me staring and composed himself, taking his beanie off and trying to dry himself of the rain.

“I’m so-“ He started.

“Late?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Sorry was more like it.”

“Yeah, well you should be. I had two girls come in and I had to tattoo one, the register was unmanned. Luckily I wasn’t interrupted.”

“It’s just-“

“I don’t want explanations, just don’t do it again.”

He nodded at me and went to the back to drop off his stuff. Jake was what many girls would call, geeky handsome. He had thin rimmed glasses that framed his face and cropped brown hair, which he had recently streaked with blond. He had quite a slim build, but there was nothing shy about him.
He came back around and stood next to me, leaning over and also reading the magazine. I swatted him away.

“Do you mind?”

He smirked, “Not at all.”

I turned around to face him, “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Yeah, and you’re doing it.”

I rolled my eyes and went to the back, letting Jake man the front desk. “You sure that isn’t too much for you?” I yelled out to him.

“I can handle anything!” He shouted back in a sexy voice, laughing.

I smiled and continued to clean up. I loved Jake, not in that kind of way though. I loved having someone around that knew I was the boss, but knew that I liked to joke around. It relieved some of the tension that seemed to hang around. The bell from the front door rang and I heard a voice follow. A couple of seconds later I heard Jake call for me.

“Coming!” I replied, finishing up.

I jogged around to the front of the shop, where Jake was. “Yeah?” I asked, before noticing the customer.

“Hey Sam!” The guy said.

“Sup Michael!” I smiled, leaning over and giving him a quick hug.

Michael was a lifelong friend; I had known him since kindergarten. He was wearing tight faded jeans and a black polo shirt, covered with a red and black jacket. His hair stuck up in a Mohawk, propelled away from his face, as if being blasted with wind. He had a lip ring which he always fiddled with when he talked with people, and frequently broke it before running to me to fix it. I had known Michael for years now, we had been joined at the hip every since kindergarten. Parents thought that we would slowly drift apart when it came to high school. That didn’t happen, instead, we were closer than ever. They then decided that love would soon blossom between the two of us. Once again, that didn’t happen. We were best friends all throughout school, and our friendship seemed to be able to withstand anything. And here we stood, in our mid-20’s, and still inseparable.

“What’s shakin’?” I asked.

He shrugged, “Nothing much. Got a new puppy actually!”

“Really?” I said, my eyes lighting up.

He nodded, “A border collie. Named the little thing Romulus.”

“After the brother of Rome?”

“Rome has a brother?” Jake interrupted, already confused, “I thought it was a place.”

Michael and I both seemed to turn to look at him at the same time. “There were 2 brothers, Romulus and Remus. They founded a city, argued over the name; Remus killed Romulus and called the city Rome.” Michael explained.

“Hey, I didn’t finish high school, don’t blame me!” Jake exclaimed.

“Why did I hire a drop out?” I asked to no-one in particular.

“Because you’re an idiot.” Michael sighed.

“Oh how I must be a burden.”

“Anyways, I want a tattoo!” Michael whined.

I rolled my eyes, “Michael? Mikey? Mike? M-dog?”

He looked up at me before bursting into laughter. “M-dog? Jesus Sam, c’mon, you need better material!”

“Shh...” I hushed, “What have we said before about reckless tattoos?”

He shrugged, “I ‘unno.”

“Reckless tattoos leave you feeling shit in the morning.” I explained.

He dropped his head and nodded. He brought out his best puppy dog eyes and pouted. “Please?”

“How could you not get the ladies with that look?”

“Because every girl is a lesbian. At least that’s their excuse.”

“Obviously.”

“But the tattoo!” Michael whined, “I thought about it!”

The bell over the door rang as a group of teenagers strolled in, browsing the shop. I ignored them and brought Michael to the back, wanting to hear his idea for a tattoo.

“Okay, what’s the bright idea?”

Suddenly all the jokes seemed irrelevant. Michael blushed, fiddling with his hands. “Well... Uh... It’s a... Erm...”

“Oh god. Is this like your idea for, and I quote, ‘Porno-tattoos?’”

He smiled for a moment before we went serious again. “No... This is for real.”

“Okay, what is it?” I grinned, crossing my arms.

“It’s just that... Oh... Well...”

“Is it embarrassing?” I asked.

He nodded, “Kinda.”

“I solemnly swear that I will not open these lips to anyone else but you about this tattoo. Unless...” My eyes widened, “You want one on your Prince Albert?!”

He gasped and looked up at me, “Oh god please not!”

I blew out a breath, “Thank god for that. Now can you say it? Time is money.”

“Okay, okay...” He seemed to take a deep breath before continuing, “I want a gun, with a bullet flying out of it, towards a heart. And on the-“

“There’s a girl isn’t there?” I asked, suddenly excited, “Michael has a girlfriend!”

“No... But there is a girl...” He mumbled.

“Okay, out with it. Is it Jane from the CD shop? Please not. Oh god, she has the most horrible-“

Michael interrupted me, “And I want the bullet to say Samantha Evans.”

There was a silence. “...What?” I asked, shocked.

“Samantha Evans. That’s what I want it to say.”

His eyes met mine and I could see the fire dancing wildly behind them. “I love you Sam.”

All that I could hear was the blood rushing to me ears. “No, you don’t.”

“But I do, I’ve tried to say no, that it’s just a crush, but it’s not. I love you.”

I backed up until I was against the wall. “No. No, it’s a crush. It’ll pass.”

The corner of his lip curled into a smile, “I thought so too. But it’s been years.”

“Years?” I gasped.

He nodded slowly. “No, that-“

“I’ve tried denying, but I can’t fight it anymore.” He said softly.

He walked closer until I could hear him breathe. “I can’t extinguish the fire that’s raging inside of me.”

He leaned in until his face was centimetres away from mine. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest, so loud that I thought Michael might hear it. I didn’t hear the voices from the front of the shop anymore; all I heard was Michael’s steady breath. I brought my hand up and pressed a finger against his lips, which were right in front of my face.

“If you kiss me, our friendship will end.”

I didn’t say it as a threat; I said it more as an inevitable thing. “But a whole new love could grow.”

Suddenly his lips connected with mine, sending an electric shock through my body. He lips parted slowly before his tongue entered my mouth. His hand made its way to the back of my head, softly supporting me. I felt a surge of guilt rush through me and I broke the kiss, darting to the corner of the room. Michael stood there for a moment, breathless.

“Out.” I whispered.

“Sam-“

“I said out.” I said, louder now.

“I didn’t-“

“Get out right now.” I demanded.

I looked up at Michaels face, and a look of confusion crossed it. When he saw the determination in my face, he shuffled out the door. I followed him out at a safe distance. I wasn’t sure what had come over me. Fear? Disgust? Lust? Love?
Jake shot a questioning look at me, but something in my eyes told him to leave me. I stood behind the counter as Michael strode towards the door with his head down. He put his hand on the door handle and looked up at me. I quickly averted my gaze before I heard the door open, unleashing the noise from the storm outside. I looked up again, just in time to see Michael hurrying off into the pounding rain. A dark outline was all that was left before he was gone from sight. The group of teenagers left soon after, but I still hadn’t got my thoughts together. I was cleaning organizing some merch in the back, trying to distract myself, or forget, what had happened.

“Sam?” I heard Jake ask.

I looked up and forced a small smile. “What’s up?”

“He’s fallen for you.”

“Yeah, well he’s stupid.” I said, aggressively placing a t-shirt into a box.

“Well love is stupid. That’s why it’s blind.”

“Oh, now who’s a book full of wisdom?”

“I’m just telling you the truth.”

“Just leave me alone. Leave your nose out of my fucking business.”

He shrugged, “Just helping.”

I looked up at gave him a death glare. “Well don’t. You know squat about me.”

He just continued to look amused at me. “I know enough.”

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Piece of advice. Fuck off.”

“True love is not something that comes every day, follow your heart, it knows the right answer.” And with that, Jake marched out of the room.

I backed up against the wall and leaned against it. I slid down and sat with my knees tucked in front of me. I stared at the opposite side of the room for a few seconds before the tears blurred my vision. Sobs overcame my body as the tears ran down my cheeks, and I wiped them away angrily, as if they were intruders. I was so confused, puzzled at how that one man had just changed my life. What was I crying for? I didn’t know. I was crying for what I had lost. I was crying for what I had gained. I was crying for what I did not know. I was crying for the mistakes I had made. I was crying for the feelings that ran through me.
It was as if my old life had collapsed in that one second, and I couldn’t see through the dust that hadn’t settled yet. But maybe I could rebuild it, piece by piece. Start to build a new life.

But the question remained, was Michael going to be by me side building it?