“And it is, but just like it reacted before, it can also act up afterwards. That’s why I want to keep my eye on it for a little longer.”
“Oki doki.”
As they reached the glass door that separated the lobby and the tattooing rooms, with the buzzing sound blending in with the background music, Chris saw Marc. His store was a ten-minute walk away from the tattoo parlor, and since he was the boss, he could leave early whenever he wanted. So here he was, chit-chatting with Anna, looking all sexy with those stupid black jeans hugging his ass perfectly.
Skipped heartbeats. Rushing blood. Lungs about to explode.
Chris took a deep breath. It was annoying how uncontrollable all these reactions were becoming. They had known each other for a lifetime, so to speak. Why did sex make him feel so horny, nervous, and…proudevery time he looked at the bassist now?
“Chris…” Jenna grabbed his tee as she stopped in her tracks when he was about to open the door. Her expression, unlike before, was darker and solemn.
“Yeah?” He turned towards her. “What is it? You feeling okay? Dizzy or anything?” He touched her shoulder. That could happen after such a long, first session, and her body was still kind of shaky.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… I-I just wanted to thank you for being so cool about all this.” She gestured to her forearm, which was currently covered. “I’ve always felt so self-conscious about it. Like people saw the scar and then looked at me with pity and concern, as if having done this to myself means I’m insane or that I could hurt someone else… I don’t know.” She lifted a shoulder. “The way you’ve treated me from the start. It means everything to me.”
“Jen, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Life happens, and it’s sometimes so hard that… harming yourself feels easier than breathing.” He stared at her for a couple of seconds and then grabbed her hand and brushed her fingers over his forearm. “You can barely see them unless you know, but over here… You notice?”
Jenna nodded, her eyes brimming with tears once more. “You too?”
Chris shook his head, letting go of her. “For me, it was a way to control my emotions. But for some time they were too easy to see, and it was a pain in the ass to feel people staring.”
“It’s that why you cover them?”
“Partly. But mostly because I love this shit,” he said, tracing the lines of his tattoos. “Listen, sweetheart,” he started, placing a caring hand on her shoulder. He was breaking a thousand client rules by being so open about his personal life and standing this physically so close to her. But when had he given a fuck about any of that? “People are judgmental, no matter what you do. Especially when they don’t understand. And even if they do, some will still find a reason to talk and gossip. But in reality, what do they fucking know? Nothing.” He shrugged, both palms up. “Your story. Your battles. Only you know the truth behind your scars and the things that have brought you here. Take pride in the warrior you’ve become because of all that. And every time you doubt your own strength, just look at your new tattoo.” He pointed at her forearm. “That is the mark of the excruciating pain you overcame and survived. That is the power you hold.”
Jenna launched herself into his arms. “Thank you so much.” Her voice cracked in a silent cry. “You have no idea of the confidence you’ve helped me gain back over these last few months.”
He returned the hug with a smile. “Any time.”
“Seriously, though.” She wiped her tears when he let go. “Coming here and talking to you, seeing the gorgeous tattoo you were designing for me, to represent what I couldn’t see in myself so beautifully… I just, ugh!” She rubbed her palms over her eyes again as she chuckled, relieved. “You’ve changed my life. Thank you.”
“Love that.” He grinned, feeling all kinds of cozy inside.
Jenna nodded. “Anyway… I think we should go.” A mischievous spark lit her gaze. “Someone is waiting for you?”
“Yeah.”
“Is thathim?” She asked in a whisper, gesturing with her head.
Chris laughed. “Yup.”
“He’s hot.”
“Weren’t you into girls?” he quipped as he opened the door, letting her through first.
“And I am, but I also have eyes.” She shrugged.
Tittering, Chris approached Marc and patted his back. “Hey, Zimmer.”
“Hey.” He smiled. “You done?”
“Yeah,” he replied, heart backflipping inside his rib cage. “Just gonna go grab my stuff.” He turned towards the receptionist. “Can you take her payment?” he asked, giving Jenna’s shoulders a squeeze.
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
Chris rushed into his tattooing room, grabbed his phone, backpack, and jacket, and walked outside again. Marc was talking with the women as if he’d been friends with them forever. The guitarist wasn’t even surprised. It was always the same.
