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I'm draining the last of my beer when I feel someone's hands on my hips. His warm breath touches the shell of my ear and his voice booms in my head, “Hey, beautiful, you wanna get tatted tonight?”

I crane my head back to look at him and motion with my hand in a scribbling motion as if I'm writing my signature in that air, “like a tattoo, tattoo?!”

He nods and I grin.

I lean forward to grab Hayzel, who's too lost in the music to care about anything tonight.

“Hayz, come let's go,” I tell her, grabbing her hand.

I nod to the guy in front of me and he takes my free arm, pulling me into Vincent's dining room. Multiple people are making out, some are waiting in a line to get a free tattoo at the far end of the room.

“Right, which one of you is going first?” the guy asks and it suddenly dawns on me that I didn't ask for his name.

“Tattoos, Rey?” Hayzel asks inquisitively and I nod my head.

“Yeah, a late birthday gift for me!”

A smile curls her lips and she squeals, pulling her leg up. “Thighs?”

“Bet,” I reply, as I set up to pull my dress up and expose the lower part of my thigh.

“It might sting a bit,” he says, getting ready.

I shrug at him, smiling. “It’s okay, I can handle pain, it’s not my first one.”

He preps our skin as best as he can with what he has.

Vodka.

Hayzel flashes him a grin and she takes the bottle from him, bringing it to her lips for a swig. “Are you two ready?” he asks and we nod.

The music vibrates through the house and we bob towards the beat, humming the lyrics.

“Just a small pinch and it's done,” he smiles at me and I hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun coming closer.

The needle starts to pierce my skin and I wince at the sensation.

It's not painful, in fact I find it relaxing almost.

“And, we are….” he wipes the excess ink off before continuing, “done.”

Hayzel squeals as she comes by to inspect it. A few moments later it’s her turn. I watch her and all I can do is smile at how excited she looks.

After a few minutes, Hayzel is admiring her small star tattoo on her wrist. Her eyes meet mine and she whispers, “Now we are always a part of each other, Rey.”

I press my forehead against hers and we laugh softly at how stupid we are for doing this.

I pull her back to the living room when we hear another one of our favorite songs playing.

“Promise me this will last forever,” I yell at her over the music and she nods before pulling me closer to hug me.

“I promise,” she replies. “You’ll always be my favorite star, Reya.”

All that matters at that moment is that I had my best friend believing I was worth it all. And as long as she keeps thinking that, I might have a chance to survive.

97

Mireya