Bad Ink - Chapter 1 (Revised)

Sara woke at the crack of noon as she did most every morning. The early afternoon sun filtered down through her lace curtains and glittered into the water of her aquarium where she kept her pet turtle, Henry. The sun gently arming his dry rock as well as exaggerating every little hint of algae that clung to the glass. She watched her little turtle for a long moment. Swimming back and forth in hot pursuit of the feeder fish that were added just the night before.

”Ye might want to clean that soon.” A smooth Scottish voice crooned behind her as a muscular tattooed arm slid around her waist. Alistair rested his head against hers, watching Henry hunt for his lunch. “He might be happier if he could see this messy room as well as I can. Then again, if he knew what kind of state you lived in, he might turn out to be a sour puss like you.” He chuckled and kissed her cheek, making light of the clothes on the floor, and scattered sketches across Sara’s vanity on the opposite side of the room.

“Don’t be an ass-hole so early.” Sara smirked, lightly elbowing Alistair in the arm. “Keep up the jokes and I will get you deported.” A light hearted joke they threw back and forth on occasion.

        “Deportation is nothing to fuck around with, love.” He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “You’d miss me terribly.”

        “I know.” Sara snuggled her body back against his, letting out a contented sigh. “You know that I would never do such a thing. Besides,” she pushed her fiery curls away from her face as she craned her neck back to look at him. “Who else around here would put up with me so well?” Her smile always made Alistair’s heart beat with a loud forceful Thump-Ba-Dum, beating under his pecks as he asked himself how he ended up with such a catch. He admired her grin that could make a complete stranger feel like they were the most important person in her world. 

        “Damn.” Alistair groaned in annoyance.

        “What is it?”

        “I have to get to class, and you have work soon.”

        “Same as every day.” She retorted with a giggle, reaching up to run her fingers through his auburn hair. “What makes today so “damn” worthy?”

        “I could go for another round.” Alistair’s lips stretched into a mischievous grin as he waggled his brow, insinuating a repeat of the previous night’s activities.

        “Oh, of course.” Sara’s voice sang back to him. “Too bad I have four clients today. Otherwise you’d already be screwed.” She rolled her naked body on top of him and kissed his lips sweetly. “Also,” She kissed him again. “We are fresh out of condoms.” 

        Alistair groaned as he sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ll pick some up on the way home from work. Fair?”

        “Fair.” Sara smiled and kissed him once more. “Love you, Al.”

        “I love you too, Lass.”

        Sara wiggled out of his arms, hoisted herself off the bed, and picked out a clean set of underwear, she didn’t care enough to make sure they matched, just that they were clean. After dressing in a medium grey tank top, tight black jeans, and her tall tightly laced black boots, she worked her way down to the kitchen, where the times coffee pot was waiting with a fresh brew.

        “Alistair!” She called up to him, loud enough that he could hear her past the running sink. “Coffee is hot!” She pulled her favorite blue mug from the cabinet that displayed the captain America shield glazed on one side. Pouring into it hot coffee, sugar, and half and half, she stirred it with a teaspoon as she moved towards the table.

Sitting down at their little dining table that was nestled comfortably into their small kitchen, she pulled a sketchbook out of her bag and flipped it open to a nearly finished drawing. She looked it over carefully, examining every line and curve. She fetched a pencil from her bag and leaned over the page. Working carefully to add a bit more detail. Sara knew to get a good tattoo design, and vicariously a happy client, a proposal sketch should always be looked over a second time with fresh eyes.

        “It’s gorgeous, babe.” Alistair paused to admire her work over her shoulder. “But lemme guess.” He spoke as he moved about the kitchen to prepare his own cup of coffee. “A twenty somethin’ college girl wants a pair of wings, but only on one shoulder blade?” He laughed, clearly amusing himself as he sat down beside her at the round dining table.

        “You’re close.” She grinned at the drawing. “This is a memorial piece.

        “Wow, I am an ass-hole.” He took a sip of coffee to stretch the moment between his realization and her next words.

        “Well yes you are, but she does want it on just one shoulder blade. So one point to you.”

        “So she is a twenty-something?”

        “Mid-thirties. So you lose there.”

“Oh darn. What ever will I do?”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a darn.”

“The line is ‘I don’t give a damn’.” He watched her with a grin pulling at his cheeks.

“My point exactly. I. Don’t. Give. A. Darn..” She grinned right back at him before turning her attention back to the crisp ivory pages. “Don’t you have to be getting to class soon?” Sara asked after glancing at her phone.

“Shit, you’re right.” Jolting up and out the his chair, he snatched his jacket from the coat rack while simultaneously scooping his keys out of the wooden bowl kept on the side table next to the door. “Would you like a ride to work?” Alistair threw his jacket on with ease, not breaking his gaze from her.

“Nah.” Sara replied in a relaxed tone as she sank back in her seat slightly, admiring her work. It’s a nice day out, I think I’ll just ride my bike.

“As you wish, lass.” He kissed her cheek once more before rushing out the door, coffee in hand.
Sara remained at the table a while longer. Looking over her designs, adding detail here and there and fixing the occasional line. Her focus finally broken by the illumination of her phone. She checked her lock screen to find a text from her boss, Craig, who also owned the tattoo shop they worked at.

‘Good afternoon, Sara. We have a walk in that is requesting you. Would you mind coming in a bit early? –Craig’ Sara sighed as she read over the message. Though she adored being requested, she ,like most people, hated going into work early. She smirked and wrote a text back to him.

‘Throw in a cream cheese Danish and a coffee then you have a deal.’ She had made mental plans to stop for a quick breakfast before work, but said plans were now out the window if she had to go straight into work. After receiving a response of affirmation, she requested an Uber then packed her sketchbook and pencils with haste. Within a few minutes there was a honk at her front door and she was off.

Sara pulled the shop door open and stepped into the brick façade building as the bells attached to the door chimed her arrival.

“I’m here, Craig!” She announced herself as she kept the door from slamming shut, as it was so fond of doing from time to time, signaling it’s desperate need for servicing. She pulled off her sunglasses as she made her way to her private station.

The shop itself was a decent size. There was a round half-moon welcome desk in the center of the main room where a secretary waited to greet both scheduled clients and walk-ins. She was a young brunette with mocha skin, and short curvy build whom they all called Azzi. No real rhyme or reason as to why they called her that. Her real name was Karen, but Azzi seemed to suit her eccentric personality better than just Karen.

“Hey, Sara!” Azzi smiled at her over her new copy of Cosmo. Her white teeth a stark contrast against her deep ruby lips. “The walk-in who requested you stepped out for a quick coffee.” 

“Perfect.” Sara groaned softly as she moved towards her station.

The rest of the shop looked more like a standard tattoo shop than the welcome desk would suggest. Personalized art and flash work hung on every wall. Signed work from guest artists and photos of the occasional celeb-to-be hung around the back of the shop. There was a total of four stations that made up the rest of the room, two on each side. Sara’s station was the one located in the front left corner with her own window to the sidewalk. Her name written in fine script hung over her chair, surrounded by her sketches and photos of her favorite tattoos she had the privilege of putting on her clients. She was proud of her work, and definitely was willing to show it off, as were the other artists. Sara laid her sunglasses on her desk, and laid her bag in the chair.

“Goodness, we are so busy today.” She mocked the nearly empty shop as she pulled her sweater off to hang up.

“Completely swamped.” Azzi added as she loudly flipped the page in her magazine to emphasize the silence.

“Did this mystery walk-in tell you what they were looking for?”

“Not really.” Azzi shrugged. “He looked through your portfolio and asked when you were scheduled to come in next.”

“Then leaves before I show up.” She laughed quietly to herself as she opened her bag to fetch the tools of her trade then joined Azzi at the welcome desk to continue her work. “Where’s the boss man?” She asked, remembering that she hadn’t heard a response when she announced herself.

“He’s in the back.” Her companion of boredom responded. “Someone wanted their septum pierced. You know he loves the quick work. Money and time, blah blah blah.” The shop also contained a back room that had its own locking door specifically made so that people can get piercings and tattoos in more sensitive parts of the human anatomy, as opposed to being on full display to anyone who would happen to walk by and peek into the windows, let alone walk in to request their own work. 

“That’s fair.” Sara opened her sketch book to a fresh clean page, wiping her hand over the smooth surface as to get a feel for the drawing hiding underneath. “He’s been asking me to touch up some of his work again.”

“You know, you’re the only one that I know of that he’s asked to have work on him?” Azzi mentioned quizzically.

“Oh, I know, believe me.” Sara continued to study the blank page as her pencil hovered over it. He’s always been super adamant about only having women work on him. Something about how women have a softer touch, bury the needle less often,” She shrugged a little as she looked over to her station for a little inspiration. “And he always asks me about working on his ink like he’s asking to sleep with me. ‘Hey, Sara babe- when you wanna tattoo my bod?’” She mocked his gruff voice, smiling as she started on her sketch, pulling light lines gracefully across the paper. 

“Oh, god.” Azzi sighed heavily. “He’s been touching my neck a lot lately asking when he can ‘lay something fresh on my flesh’. Just like that too. ‘Lay something fresh on my flesh.’ He makes it sound ten times creepier than it would if he asked like a normal person.”

“Because that can’t possibly be considered harassment.” Sara looked over her left shoulder to the back station where one of her co-workers, Emilio, was working on a drawing of his own. He was always rather quiet and out of the way to the point she hardly noticed when he would come in or out of the shop. Luckily for her at the moment, he was wearing noise cancelling earphones and seemed to be totally lost in his work. Sara relaxed again. “That’s just creepy.”

“Fucking creepy.” Azzi echoed in agreement.

“Besides, Azzi, you know that I am the best in the shop.” Sara put her hands on her hips to take a sitting Superman style pose. Azzi giggled and lightly elbowed her. “Hey, you ask for me, he asks for me, even strangers ask for me.” She stretched her arms up and leaned her head back in her hands. “I. Am. The best.” She sighed with a smile.
“You. Are. So full of yourself, Miss Sara.” Emilio jumped into the conversation, having finally taken off his earphone to search for a particular colored pencil floating around his station. “According to the schedule, you’re having one busy day, but remember. It’s feast or famine here.”

“I know, Milo, but can’t I have one day to feel like the best artist in the shop?” Sara slumped completely in her chair, limbs dangling like a marionette with all of its strings cut, her lower lip pulled into a full baby-doll pout to round out her utterly pathetic pose. “That guy needs to come back soon if he wants consultation. They can take over an hour, and my first client is in…” She checked the time on her phone. “An hour and ten minutes. The sooner the better, I’d like to clock in.”

“Pay you ten bucks for a sketch of a rose.” Azzi offered without looking up from her article, but with a grin spread across her lips.

“Deal.” She moved to the bottom outer corner of her sketchbook and began to outline a wild rose. “Where is my Danish anyway?”

“Your walk in left to get it, didn’t I tell you?”

“Awe, well at least he’s sweet about calling someone in early. I guess I can forgive him if he gets here soon. Sara kept 
working on the sketch for Azzi until the shop door was slung open, and a panting young man stepped in with a cardboard drink holder full of coffees, and a pastry bag. Sara looked up and gave the young man a smile.  

“You must be the walk-in that requested me, yes?”

“Yes.” He gave her a worn out smile ; it was obvious that he definitely rushed to get back to the shop. He set the coffees and pastry bag on the desk. “That must make you Sara?”

“If that is my Danish in that bag, then I will be the Queen of England if that is who you are looking for. I haven’t had breakfast.” In that moment Craig had come out of the back room with a client who had no visible piercings. 

“Welcome back, Gavin!” Craig exclaimed as his client left the shop, wincing but otherwise happy with the service. “I take it that you’ve met our Sara?” He walked as he spoke, resting his hands on Sara’s shoulders as her name slipped past his lips. “Thank you so much for caffeinating my staff. I deeply appreciate it.” Craig always had a way with the clientele. He could manage to calm anyone's nerves about getting worked on, even if it was to be their very first body modification, or as Craig commonly called it, “having virgin skin”. He always got the biggest tips, and of course drove the nicest car in the lot. He was tall, broad shouldered, and muscular and was more than happy to show off his body with tight shirts, and pants that seemed like they came right out of the women’s section with the way they hugged his ass. His smile, being his most defining feature, was nearly blinding with each tooth a sparkling white pearl. His hair was always meticulously smooth without a single lock out of place. He looked like he belonged on a Hollywood poster rather than a tattoo shop in Colorado.

“It isn’t a problem at all.” Gavin smiled. “Especially since she agreed to come in early just to see me. Thank you, miss.” He doled out the coffees to Sara, Azzi, and Emilio, saving the last for himself. “Where should I sit?” Sara took a long satisfying drink from her blended mocha before speaking.

“We can sit over there in the stuffed chairs by my station.’ She pointed to the three chairs around a small table near the window. Sara stood and gathered her things before leading her new client over to “the Circle”, as they called it. After sitting down and organizing her things, she gave Gavin a more formal hello, checked his identification for age, and then reminded him of the health risks that could come with getting a body modification. “Tattoo or piercing?”

“A tattoo, please.” Gavin replied nervously, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “I have been wanting to get a tattoo for a few years now, and I finally settled on a concept. I’m also friends with Craig, and he told me to come in and ask for you.”

“He did? How kind of him.” Sara sounded as though it was a major compliment, and though it was in its own right, working on a friend of the boss was always nerve wracking for her. Her stomach churned a bit but she kept going as though nothing had changed.

“Then I saw your work and I knew you were perfect.” He handed her the paper then clasped his hands  tightly together to try to calm himself. Sara opened the paper to lay eyes on a very rough sketch of a pin-up model in a very classic pose. Sitting, legs together, body facing the left, three quarters face with her hands on her hips, and roses surrounding her.

“This is going to be lovely” She remarked with a smile. Pin-ups were some of her favorite things to do for her clients. Several pictures of her past pin-ups decorated her space right behind them. “Is she anyone important?” Sara looked up at him with a curious grin.

“Just a girl, I suppose.” He shrugged lightly. “I love new takes on old tattoos like Americana. It’s all so beautiful, honestly. Do people get tattoos of their partners?”

“You would not believe how many people come in here to actually get names or portraits covered with something else. Usually an ex-girlfriend’s name.” She shrugged a bit. “They are adults and can do as they wish if you ask me.” Her smile was fixed as she imagined how to masterfully recreate his vision.  

“Oh, Jeez. Not me, thank you. I just would like a very sexy pin-up right here.” Gavin pulled up his sleeve a bit to show Sara his pale clean forearm. A fresh canvas of sorts. After talking for a while and doodling a couple of ideas out for him, Gavin settled on a design and scheduled his tattoo to be done a little less than a week later.

The rest of Sara’s day went by without too much excitement. Three finished pieces and one no show who would have been blacklisted if they hadn’t have called just as their appointment was about to begin. She always spent the last couple hours of her shift sitting at the welcome desk in Azzi’s place, waiting for anyone to come in for a last minute consult or piercing, or just working on designs for upcoming appointments for the week. Emilio left after his last client, and Azzi skipped out an hour early to get ready for a party she was going to that night. Leaving Sara and Craig alone in the shop together for the rest of the night.

Sara sat at the desk with her sketchbook, pencils, and a drink, with her phone connected to the Bluetooth sound system. The surrounding speakers vibrated softly with the beat of her music. The shop filled with the sounds of old eighties gothic rock. She hummed along and tapped her foot to the grinding beat as the chair beside her was pulled away from the desk, followed by Craig dropping his hefty bodybuilder frame into it with a nearly menacing thud.
“You did fine work today, Sara. Too bad you had a no-show.” Craig stretched his arms before putting his feet up on the desk. Sara cringed at that. The amount of germs on the bottom of his feet contaminating clean space. She made a mental note to remind Azzi to wipe the desk down three times before letting anyone touch it.

“Thanks.” Sara looked back at her sketch. “She called and rescheduled for Monday, so it isn’t a total loss on me.”

“It kind of is.” He spoke with a very matter-of-fact tone. “You could have had one or two clients in that time span. Sara shrugged.

“My rent is paid, and I have money to spare. So I don’t mind a reschedule here and there. It’s no skin off my back.”

“If you insist.” He chuckled to himself. “Say, after closing, would you like to get a drink with me at The Dragon?” Sara held back a groan as she gave the question a moment to settle in the air.

“No.” She replied in a flat tone. “My boyfriend and I have dinner plans tonight.” She knew she didn’t have to justify anything to him, but it would be nice to skip over the “why not” part of rejecting a man’s offer.

“Tch, ‘boyfriend’. You don’t need a boy, you need a man.” He scoffed at the very idea that she would want to go out with someone that wasn’t himself. Again, Sara resisted groaning.

“Alistair is a fine man, and a real gentleman. He treats me very well, thank you.” In her annoyance, her pencil lines became darker and more emotional rather than being tactfully placed to ensure the closest thing to perfection.
“Who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself?”

“Craig, let it go. It’s not going to happen. I thought we had established that already?” She finally stopped sketching and turned in her seat to face him. “You’re a nice enough guy, but I have a boyfriend that I love. I’m not about to go out with another guy just because he has a few more muscles. I respect my man far more than you seem to think I do. And for you to insinuate otherwise is an insult to all women. So please, for the sake of our professional 
relationship, stop trying to ask me out.”

“Shit, Sara. You could have just said no.” Craig seemed slightly taken aback from her response.

“Dude, I did say no and you came back with an insult. Not to mention that I have said no in the past, yet here we are with you asking me out yet again!”

“I didn’t mean it that way, and it isn’t my fault that you took it that way… What are you doing?” He watched as Sara stood and started packing her things into her bag.

“I’m going home early. I don’t need to sit here and be harassed by my boss for turning down his constant requests for a date.” She slung her black leather bag over her shoulder as she began to ping an Uber that was luckily a mere block away. “Good night, Craig.”

“Wait, don’t go. What if we get a walk-in?” He pleaded pathetically, not wanting to risk having to actually work after 10pm.

“Then you get a walk in.” She stepped out of the shop as her modern taxi pulled up, the door-bells signaling her exit.