To live in love and die
Eighteen
“Sophie?” I asked. I was showering in Sophie’s bathroom, since the water pressure on my shower had become so crappy you couldn’t even wash your hair. Mike was right; I probably should get someone to fix that.
“Mhm?” Her muffled response broke through the sound barrier the water created around me, enveloping me in my own wet halo.
“I want to die my hair.” I say. I was currently shampooing it, massaging my scalp slowly, relishing the feeling of the burning hot water stinging my skin.
Sophie’s head popped into the shower, ignoring my protests regarding the fact that I was stark naked.
“YES. We’ll go down to the hair salon today! You’ll look so pretty for when Mike comes back!” she squealed and poked my ribs. I tried swatting her hand away, but shampoo had gotten in my eye and I was now exclaiming in frustration. It stung like hell.
A half hour later, I was dressed in a simple outfit (http://www.polyvore.com/tattoo_job_interview/set?id=96506905) and checked my bag once more to see if I had everything with me.
I slipped my hand into my back pocket and fished out the business card that had been given to me ten days ago. ‘Jensen Brothers Tattoo Parlor’, it read. I’d called them a couple of days ago and had scheduled an appointment to drop by and show them some of my designs.
I had to start looking for a job, since I was now an official Art College graduate. The graduation ceremony had been seven days ago, and it was small but elegant. Everyone had gone partying afterwards, including me. I’d had a pretty good time, and Sophie had expressed how much she appreciated the effort I did to be there with her in that day. It really was a special occasion, so I tried to enjoy myself, and I actually did. People drank, people danced, and I had to admit, I got a little tipsy. Nothing major, but still my head had ached in the morning. Kind of like the last night Mike was here in San Diego when I’d had too many glasses of wine.
Sophie was starting her work as a new columnist in the magazine ArtN’More next week, but she was going to some pre-introductory courses first to get familiarized with the workspace and everything she needed to know.
We were both really excited, since we had to move out of this apartment pretty soon. It was an apartment complex that the University had provided for us both as a combination of our scholarships, and since we were graduates, it was time to say goodbye and move on.
I took a bus down to the street address the business card said. It was probably around fifteen minutes away, so I plugged in my headphones on the way and lost myself in the music of Marianas Trench.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me awake. Shit, how long had I fallen asleep? I checked the screen and sighed in relief, just ten minutes. I took in my surroundings and realized I was just a couple of minutes away.
As I hopped off the bus and walked up the street, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I’d never imagined actually working at a tattoo parlor. I’d designed plenty of tattoos over the years, some of them were for me in a future and some others were just random. I patted my bag once more, feeling the hard edges of my sketchbook. Okay, everything seemed to be in order.
I heard a soft jingling sound from above me, indicating my entrance to the shop. It seemed pretty deserted, and I noticed the front desk was alone, unattended. There was a small waiting room, with a couple of leather couches and magazines on the coffee table. The place seemed slick and fancy, but something was off.
There was a hallway between the reception desk and waiting room, leading to the cubicles for each tattoo artist, I supposed. I’d never really been inside one, so I was just assuming.
A guy’s head popped out of one of the cubicles, and he smiled. “Hey! Are you Sam?”
“Yeah, I am. Hi.” I lifted my hand and waved a little bit, unsure of what to do.
“Cool! Jay said you’d stop by.” The guy said. He cupped his hands around his mouth and exclaimed, “JAY! SAM’S HERE.”
I returned the smile he flashed me as he disappeared back again into his cubicle. I decided to take a seat on one of the couches. As I sat down, I fished out my sketchbook, flipping through the colorful, intricate designs I had been working on for the past ten days………and all of my teenage years.
I’ve always been fascinated by tattoos. They’re just so personal, and real, and beautiful, and meaningful. I wanted so many and so badly, but I don’t really know why I’ve never gotten one.
The guy who had given me the business card at the gallery, Jay apparently, came into view from the hallway. He greeted me politely and shook my hand. I smiled and said hello. He sat down on the couch across from me.
“So, I’m taking you’re interested on my offer? “ He asked, his face a mask of eagerness.
“Well, I’m actually looking for more information concerning your offer, since I’m not really sure what it is.” I said, a little bit nervous. I really wanted to work here, I realized. I didn’t care about what I would be doing here, but I just wanted to be.
His grin was wide and toothy. “Well, it’s pretty obvious you’re an artist. You design, you create, you transmit. I—we—need that. We need someone like you to keep things fresh on our designs, we need you to help us give a customer exactly what their looking for. We need you.”
I had to admit, it felt nice when he said these things. It made me feel like if I did, in fact, work here, I’d be appreciated. Praised even.
My stomach flipped. “I really hope you don’t change your mind about what you just said when you see these.” I joked, passing Jay my sketchbook flipped to the first page.
His eyes roamed around the surface of the paper, flipping through each one, observing, absorbing, analyzing, and appreciating my designs and drawings. I started to feel uneasy when he reached the last page and his expression remained neutral.
“Ok, so here’s the deal.” He snapped the sketchbook close, and looked up at me dead in the eye. “My brother Kyle—the one you saw earlier—and I are facing a rough time. This tattoo parlor was originally founded by our father, Jacob Jensen, and since we were little he took us to drawing classes. I’ve never been good at creating, and neither is Kyle. We’re great at copying, but not creating designs. My dad always used to design the tattoos and we would just do them.”
I nodded my head slowly. So…………where was he going with this?
Jay sighed and sank his face into his hands. “I’m sorry for being so upfront about this. I know I should probably be interviewing you, but just by seeing your art……..I know.” He swallowed thickly, and looked back up. “My father passed away a couple of months ago, and the business has come down too much for us to keep it up much longer. We used to be so popular because of our—my dad’s—unique designs, and since he’s gone now we don’t have new ones.”
Okay, that seemed like a big problem. I could see why they would need to find someone to keep up the originality, but me? Was I really capable of that?
“Sam.” Jay said, snapping me back into attention. “Your designs…..they’re really good. We could really use you.”
My head jerked downward a bit, nodding. “Thank you.” I whispered. I swallowed. “I’m sorry about your father.”
A trace of a small smile passed through his lips. His hand came up and swatted my condolences away. “It’s okay, he was a big man.” He reached into his back pocket and produced a small notepad. He clicked the top of his pen and wrote something on it. He passed it over to me. “That’s the percentage of how much you’d get for every tattoo we make that you design and, if you want, you could work here at the front desk every day. Like a secretary. You’d make appointments, you’d handle the register—all those kinds of things.” His hand reached to point at a second number scribbled onto the paper I was holding. “That’d be your pay.”
Wow. That was………that was a lot. It was good, really good. Better than good. I looked up at him. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”
He shook his head, fervently. “No. It’s the least we could do. This shop gives us plenty of income, we do pretty well. I’m positive that with your designs we’ll get to the top again.”
I was at a loss of words. I had just graduated a couple of weeks ago and now I was getting a job offer doing what I love, and getting paid a ridiculously good amount of money for it. This was too good to be true.
“So, are you in?” Jay asked, he had a timid smile on his face, his eyes hopeful.
I know I should probably ask more questions. I know this was sudden, and I didn’t really know Jay or Kyle. I know that it’d be wise to probably call Sophie, or even Mike, but working at a tattoo parlor was one of my wildest dreams while growing up. I wanted this so, so bad.And, the pay was amazing. I could live out of that. I wouldn’t be rich—not by far, but I’d live nicely. Stably.
There was only one answer that played on my lips. I didn’t regret it when they came out, not even close.
I sucked in a deep breath. I let it out. I smiled big. I said, “I’m in.”
Jay’s smile was wide enough to light up the whole place. He exclaimed. “Kyle! WE’RE BACK BABY!” He jumped up and embraced his brother, who had come out of his cubicle while hearing the news and laughed alongside Jay. I stared at the scene with a little discomfort, but also satisfaction. They were excited about me.
Kyle—who seemed younger than Jay, around 26—came up to me after releasing his brother and lifted me off of my feet. I hadn’t expected that, and a small yelp escaped my lips. Kyle squeezed the living shit out of me.
“That’s enough Kyle, we barely hired her. It’d be a shame if you killed her.” Jay said, chuckling, while unwrapping his younger sibling from around me.
I gave them a smile. “So, when do I start?”
I was currently sitting in the waiting area of a hair salon that Sophie usually came to. I haven’t had a proper hair cut in ages. Sophie usually trimmed it in one of our bathrooms. I’ve never dyed my hair either, so I guess it was safe to say I was pretty excited. And scared.
“Sophie, what if they cut off all of my fucking hair?” I asked, chewing my nails.
She rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. You know I’d kick their butts if they dared to ruin your beautiful, long, luscious hair.” She ran a hand through my hair dramatically, and I swatted her had away, laughing.
“Stop it Soph!”
My dear roommate flicked me off just as a lady came up to me to inform me that it was my turn. I got up, went over to the hairstyler, sat down as she ordered, and told her what I wanted.
Some time later, I was regarding my new hair in the full-length mirror in Sophie’s room.
“It looks amazing Sam. Mike’s gonna love it.” My best friend looked at me with a wide smile.
I grinned insanely. I loved it. (http://www.polyvore.com/sams_hair/set?id=96189649) All my life I’ve dreamed of doing insane things with my hair, get tattoos, get piercings…….and I don’t know why I waited so long.
My family would’ve never approved of these changes, and that’s why I didn’t do it when I was a teen. But now, I was an adult. I had a job, and I was ten days away of turning 24.
If I ever saw my family, I was sure that they’d definitely be outraged by my hair. Even more so when they found out I planned on getting my nose pierced and a couple of tattoos.
But none of that mattered now. I had an amazing life. I had Sophie, I had Mike, and I had great friends: Tony, Jaime, Vic, Jess, and Lena. What more could I need?
I handed Sophie my phone. “Take a picture of it so I can send it to Mike!”
She did as I told her and I texted him the photograph. A couple of minutes later, he called me.
“Hey there gorgeous,” I said into the phone, a grin very present on my face.
“Who are you and what the fuck have you done to my sweet and conservative Sam?!” His voice was happy, a trace of a chuckle laced with the tone of his words. I could practically hear his smile.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“I love it. You look hot.”
I blushed crimson. Damn this man had an effect on me. “I’m planning on getting some tattoos. Maybe a couple of piercings.”
I heard him suck in a breath and groan audibly. “Are you trying to kill me? You know I think those two are fucking hot. Especially on you…….I mean—God.” His voice sent shivers down my spine.
I bit my lip, a nervous habit I’d acquired lately. “Imagine how I feel when I see you Michael. All sexy and stunning with your tatts, medusa and lip ring.”
“YOU DO KNOW I’M SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU AND CAN HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING RIGHT?” Sophie exclaimed, startling me. I’d completely forgotten she was there.
Mike laughed full on through the line. “Aw, come on Sophs! Don’t be bitter just because you’re horny and missing Tony’s little turtle, if you know what I mean.”
Sophie’s eyes popped out. “Michael Christopher Fuentes! How dare you!”
I giggled loudly, amused at Sophie’s expression when as she left the room.
“Hey, so guess what babe? Our last show for the tour is in San Diego!”
“Wait, WHAT? Are you serious? That’s great!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah, it is. I could easily get you VIP and backstage passes. Lena, Jess and Sophie would get some too. It’s the 28th, what do you say?” His voice was hopeful, sweet.
How the fuck could I ever turn that offer down? “Are you seriously asking me if I want to go? Really Mike? Do you know me at all?!” I chuckled, giddy with fangirlism.
His laugh was adorable. “I know, I just wanted to hear your reaction. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too, Whiskey Hands.”
“I’ll talk to you later Unicorn Hair, I gotta go rehearse. Besos!” He made a kissy noise at me and hung up.
I was going to see A Day To Remember, Pierce The Veil, and Sleeping With Sirens together in one concert.
I was going to see my man in ten days!
I couldn’t wait. It was going to be the best day of my life!
God, I adored Mike.
“Mhm?” Her muffled response broke through the sound barrier the water created around me, enveloping me in my own wet halo.
“I want to die my hair.” I say. I was currently shampooing it, massaging my scalp slowly, relishing the feeling of the burning hot water stinging my skin.
Sophie’s head popped into the shower, ignoring my protests regarding the fact that I was stark naked.
“YES. We’ll go down to the hair salon today! You’ll look so pretty for when Mike comes back!” she squealed and poked my ribs. I tried swatting her hand away, but shampoo had gotten in my eye and I was now exclaiming in frustration. It stung like hell.
A half hour later, I was dressed in a simple outfit (http://www.polyvore.com/tattoo_job_interview/set?id=96506905) and checked my bag once more to see if I had everything with me.
I slipped my hand into my back pocket and fished out the business card that had been given to me ten days ago. ‘Jensen Brothers Tattoo Parlor’, it read. I’d called them a couple of days ago and had scheduled an appointment to drop by and show them some of my designs.
I had to start looking for a job, since I was now an official Art College graduate. The graduation ceremony had been seven days ago, and it was small but elegant. Everyone had gone partying afterwards, including me. I’d had a pretty good time, and Sophie had expressed how much she appreciated the effort I did to be there with her in that day. It really was a special occasion, so I tried to enjoy myself, and I actually did. People drank, people danced, and I had to admit, I got a little tipsy. Nothing major, but still my head had ached in the morning. Kind of like the last night Mike was here in San Diego when I’d had too many glasses of wine.
Sophie was starting her work as a new columnist in the magazine ArtN’More next week, but she was going to some pre-introductory courses first to get familiarized with the workspace and everything she needed to know.
We were both really excited, since we had to move out of this apartment pretty soon. It was an apartment complex that the University had provided for us both as a combination of our scholarships, and since we were graduates, it was time to say goodbye and move on.
I took a bus down to the street address the business card said. It was probably around fifteen minutes away, so I plugged in my headphones on the way and lost myself in the music of Marianas Trench.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me awake. Shit, how long had I fallen asleep? I checked the screen and sighed in relief, just ten minutes. I took in my surroundings and realized I was just a couple of minutes away.
As I hopped off the bus and walked up the street, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I’d never imagined actually working at a tattoo parlor. I’d designed plenty of tattoos over the years, some of them were for me in a future and some others were just random. I patted my bag once more, feeling the hard edges of my sketchbook. Okay, everything seemed to be in order.
I heard a soft jingling sound from above me, indicating my entrance to the shop. It seemed pretty deserted, and I noticed the front desk was alone, unattended. There was a small waiting room, with a couple of leather couches and magazines on the coffee table. The place seemed slick and fancy, but something was off.
There was a hallway between the reception desk and waiting room, leading to the cubicles for each tattoo artist, I supposed. I’d never really been inside one, so I was just assuming.
A guy’s head popped out of one of the cubicles, and he smiled. “Hey! Are you Sam?”
“Yeah, I am. Hi.” I lifted my hand and waved a little bit, unsure of what to do.
“Cool! Jay said you’d stop by.” The guy said. He cupped his hands around his mouth and exclaimed, “JAY! SAM’S HERE.”
I returned the smile he flashed me as he disappeared back again into his cubicle. I decided to take a seat on one of the couches. As I sat down, I fished out my sketchbook, flipping through the colorful, intricate designs I had been working on for the past ten days………and all of my teenage years.
I’ve always been fascinated by tattoos. They’re just so personal, and real, and beautiful, and meaningful. I wanted so many and so badly, but I don’t really know why I’ve never gotten one.
The guy who had given me the business card at the gallery, Jay apparently, came into view from the hallway. He greeted me politely and shook my hand. I smiled and said hello. He sat down on the couch across from me.
“So, I’m taking you’re interested on my offer? “ He asked, his face a mask of eagerness.
“Well, I’m actually looking for more information concerning your offer, since I’m not really sure what it is.” I said, a little bit nervous. I really wanted to work here, I realized. I didn’t care about what I would be doing here, but I just wanted to be.
His grin was wide and toothy. “Well, it’s pretty obvious you’re an artist. You design, you create, you transmit. I—we—need that. We need someone like you to keep things fresh on our designs, we need you to help us give a customer exactly what their looking for. We need you.”
I had to admit, it felt nice when he said these things. It made me feel like if I did, in fact, work here, I’d be appreciated. Praised even.
My stomach flipped. “I really hope you don’t change your mind about what you just said when you see these.” I joked, passing Jay my sketchbook flipped to the first page.
His eyes roamed around the surface of the paper, flipping through each one, observing, absorbing, analyzing, and appreciating my designs and drawings. I started to feel uneasy when he reached the last page and his expression remained neutral.
“Ok, so here’s the deal.” He snapped the sketchbook close, and looked up at me dead in the eye. “My brother Kyle—the one you saw earlier—and I are facing a rough time. This tattoo parlor was originally founded by our father, Jacob Jensen, and since we were little he took us to drawing classes. I’ve never been good at creating, and neither is Kyle. We’re great at copying, but not creating designs. My dad always used to design the tattoos and we would just do them.”
I nodded my head slowly. So…………where was he going with this?
Jay sighed and sank his face into his hands. “I’m sorry for being so upfront about this. I know I should probably be interviewing you, but just by seeing your art……..I know.” He swallowed thickly, and looked back up. “My father passed away a couple of months ago, and the business has come down too much for us to keep it up much longer. We used to be so popular because of our—my dad’s—unique designs, and since he’s gone now we don’t have new ones.”
Okay, that seemed like a big problem. I could see why they would need to find someone to keep up the originality, but me? Was I really capable of that?
“Sam.” Jay said, snapping me back into attention. “Your designs…..they’re really good. We could really use you.”
My head jerked downward a bit, nodding. “Thank you.” I whispered. I swallowed. “I’m sorry about your father.”
A trace of a small smile passed through his lips. His hand came up and swatted my condolences away. “It’s okay, he was a big man.” He reached into his back pocket and produced a small notepad. He clicked the top of his pen and wrote something on it. He passed it over to me. “That’s the percentage of how much you’d get for every tattoo we make that you design and, if you want, you could work here at the front desk every day. Like a secretary. You’d make appointments, you’d handle the register—all those kinds of things.” His hand reached to point at a second number scribbled onto the paper I was holding. “That’d be your pay.”
Wow. That was………that was a lot. It was good, really good. Better than good. I looked up at him. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”
He shook his head, fervently. “No. It’s the least we could do. This shop gives us plenty of income, we do pretty well. I’m positive that with your designs we’ll get to the top again.”
I was at a loss of words. I had just graduated a couple of weeks ago and now I was getting a job offer doing what I love, and getting paid a ridiculously good amount of money for it. This was too good to be true.
“So, are you in?” Jay asked, he had a timid smile on his face, his eyes hopeful.
I know I should probably ask more questions. I know this was sudden, and I didn’t really know Jay or Kyle. I know that it’d be wise to probably call Sophie, or even Mike, but working at a tattoo parlor was one of my wildest dreams while growing up. I wanted this so, so bad.And, the pay was amazing. I could live out of that. I wouldn’t be rich—not by far, but I’d live nicely. Stably.
There was only one answer that played on my lips. I didn’t regret it when they came out, not even close.
I sucked in a deep breath. I let it out. I smiled big. I said, “I’m in.”
Jay’s smile was wide enough to light up the whole place. He exclaimed. “Kyle! WE’RE BACK BABY!” He jumped up and embraced his brother, who had come out of his cubicle while hearing the news and laughed alongside Jay. I stared at the scene with a little discomfort, but also satisfaction. They were excited about me.
Kyle—who seemed younger than Jay, around 26—came up to me after releasing his brother and lifted me off of my feet. I hadn’t expected that, and a small yelp escaped my lips. Kyle squeezed the living shit out of me.
“That’s enough Kyle, we barely hired her. It’d be a shame if you killed her.” Jay said, chuckling, while unwrapping his younger sibling from around me.
I gave them a smile. “So, when do I start?”
I was currently sitting in the waiting area of a hair salon that Sophie usually came to. I haven’t had a proper hair cut in ages. Sophie usually trimmed it in one of our bathrooms. I’ve never dyed my hair either, so I guess it was safe to say I was pretty excited. And scared.
“Sophie, what if they cut off all of my fucking hair?” I asked, chewing my nails.
She rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. You know I’d kick their butts if they dared to ruin your beautiful, long, luscious hair.” She ran a hand through my hair dramatically, and I swatted her had away, laughing.
“Stop it Soph!”
My dear roommate flicked me off just as a lady came up to me to inform me that it was my turn. I got up, went over to the hairstyler, sat down as she ordered, and told her what I wanted.
Some time later, I was regarding my new hair in the full-length mirror in Sophie’s room.
“It looks amazing Sam. Mike’s gonna love it.” My best friend looked at me with a wide smile.
I grinned insanely. I loved it. (http://www.polyvore.com/sams_hair/set?id=96189649) All my life I’ve dreamed of doing insane things with my hair, get tattoos, get piercings…….and I don’t know why I waited so long.
My family would’ve never approved of these changes, and that’s why I didn’t do it when I was a teen. But now, I was an adult. I had a job, and I was ten days away of turning 24.
If I ever saw my family, I was sure that they’d definitely be outraged by my hair. Even more so when they found out I planned on getting my nose pierced and a couple of tattoos.
But none of that mattered now. I had an amazing life. I had Sophie, I had Mike, and I had great friends: Tony, Jaime, Vic, Jess, and Lena. What more could I need?
I handed Sophie my phone. “Take a picture of it so I can send it to Mike!”
She did as I told her and I texted him the photograph. A couple of minutes later, he called me.
“Hey there gorgeous,” I said into the phone, a grin very present on my face.
“Who are you and what the fuck have you done to my sweet and conservative Sam?!” His voice was happy, a trace of a chuckle laced with the tone of his words. I could practically hear his smile.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“I love it. You look hot.”
I blushed crimson. Damn this man had an effect on me. “I’m planning on getting some tattoos. Maybe a couple of piercings.”
I heard him suck in a breath and groan audibly. “Are you trying to kill me? You know I think those two are fucking hot. Especially on you…….I mean—God.” His voice sent shivers down my spine.
I bit my lip, a nervous habit I’d acquired lately. “Imagine how I feel when I see you Michael. All sexy and stunning with your tatts, medusa and lip ring.”
“YOU DO KNOW I’M SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU AND CAN HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING RIGHT?” Sophie exclaimed, startling me. I’d completely forgotten she was there.
Mike laughed full on through the line. “Aw, come on Sophs! Don’t be bitter just because you’re horny and missing Tony’s little turtle, if you know what I mean.”
Sophie’s eyes popped out. “Michael Christopher Fuentes! How dare you!”
I giggled loudly, amused at Sophie’s expression when as she left the room.
“Hey, so guess what babe? Our last show for the tour is in San Diego!”
“Wait, WHAT? Are you serious? That’s great!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah, it is. I could easily get you VIP and backstage passes. Lena, Jess and Sophie would get some too. It’s the 28th, what do you say?” His voice was hopeful, sweet.
How the fuck could I ever turn that offer down? “Are you seriously asking me if I want to go? Really Mike? Do you know me at all?!” I chuckled, giddy with fangirlism.
His laugh was adorable. “I know, I just wanted to hear your reaction. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too, Whiskey Hands.”
“I’ll talk to you later Unicorn Hair, I gotta go rehearse. Besos!” He made a kissy noise at me and hung up.
I was going to see A Day To Remember, Pierce The Veil, and Sleeping With Sirens together in one concert.
I was going to see my man in ten days!
I couldn’t wait. It was going to be the best day of my life!
God, I adored Mike.
Notes
So I'm sorry again for not updating! I've been dealing with so much SHIT in my life right now. Straight up SHIT.But I love you all, it'd really make my day if you comment what you think! Your support really means the world to me and is one of the few things that keep me going on!
Next chapter is gonna be great, and LONG. I swear. Keep an eye out! It'll probs be one of my favs!
Check out my PTV artwork on my instagram @alebandam or on my tumblr: artdelirium.tumblr.com
LOVE YOU SEXY WHISKEY MAGICAL FUZZY ANGSTY UNICORNS <3
Updateeee
4/9/14