“You’re Billie,” I say brightly, offering my hand. “Stone has told me so much about you.”
Billie drops her voice. “Blowing the lie so quick? Because I know that’s not true.”
My mouth drops before I realize she’s joking. “You must be Billie,” I say brightly, trying again. “Stone has mumbled your name and occupation to me.”
Billie laughs loudly and pats my arm. “Great choice in boyfriend, Stone,” she says with a wink. “Now, my apprentice has to set up shop behind the main table, but Matty, you should make sure you watch Caesar working over there. It’s a rare privilege.”
When she walks away, Stone and I finally unloosen our arms from each other. I feel an aching pang at the absence but stop myself from latching onto him again.
We stand across from each other, Stone’s hands shoved in his pockets as he rocks back on his boots. “Now that you’ve met everyone, the hard part should be over.”
I stare at him. “Excuse me, what? That counts as meeting everyone in your world?”
He cocks up half his mouth in a grin. “I told you, we’re not big conversationalists.”
I roll my eyes. “At least I’ve gotten you up to full sentences.”
“Check out Caesar while he’s working,” Stone says. “It should only take me ten to set up.”
When I head to the center booth, my eyes immediately land on the tattoo. As the artist’s hand moves with steady, rhythmic motion, the figure of a fearsome fairy queen comes to life. The colors are vividly rich and the lines bold, expressing incredible motion. She flies, her arms stretched out and fire rising from her hands while the artist wipes blood away.
I stand there, transfixed by the creation. I already appreciate the skill that goes into Stone’s work, but I can tell I’m seeing a true legend now, and my awe for the artform swells in response.
Stone is just as talented, I’m sure of it.
The second I slip out of my trance, though, I become aware of the crowd around me. There’s one short, squinty man who keeps staring at me like I’m out of place, and the two men immediately beside me are thick with muscles and covered in intimidating skull and fire tattoos.
My pulse accelerates, and my palms get sweaty. It’s not that I think tattoo artists are more violent than other people. I get that those are only stereotypes.
But feeling out of place and vulnerable, like I do now, that always gives me flashbacks to the time in my life when I really was the only gay geek I knew.
When I stuck out in every crowd, just like I definitely stick out now, and there was no one there to protect me.
It feels like the squinty man’s eyes are burning into me. Even though I’d love to keep watching Caesar working on this piece, I pull myself away instead and rush back to Stone.
“Hey,” he greets me as he sets up an appointment calendar at the table. “You get a look?”
I slip by his side and let out a slow breath, calming myself. Just catching his half-lidded eyes for a second is enough to make me feel better.
“It’s beautiful,” I say as I slip into a folding chair beside him. “Gorgeous.”
Stone chuckles. “Those aren’t usually the words our clients use, but yeah. Caesar’s work is gorgeous.”
My nervous energy bubbles over. “Gorgeous, just like my boyfriend,” I laugh and surprise him with a kiss on the cheek.
He was so good at faking the relationship around my friends. I figure I need to step up the act now that it’s my turn.
Stone gives me a look that borders onaw shucks.It’s adorable, especially when he follows it by pushing his hair back behind his ear and awkwardly changing the subject.
“I finished your sketch, by the way,” he says as he rummages in his bag. “It’s just a rough, but let me know what you think.”
He pulls out a small sketchpad, flips through, and slides it to me. Mixie stares at me from the page, her round cheeks and sassy stare and speckled spotting exactly like they were in life.
“Oh my god, this is perfect! You even nailed the face she makes when she watches her favorite soap operas.”
“Great,” Stone chuckles. “Glad you like it.”
“But what picture is this? I don’t remember the source.”
