A Boy I Used to Love(4)

I gritted my teeth.

I was doing the right thing.

Hurting for a week or two was better than hurting for years.

And hurting for years was something I knew all about.



I was in my world. The existence made just for me. A piece of flesh, some ink, and a story to tell. The story wasn't mine to tell, but it was mine to share. The woman's name was Carrie, and she was getting a gecko tattooed on her leg. She wanted the colors to be bright green and orange with bright blue eyes on the thing. It was a symbol for her brother, who died in a motorcycle accident six months ago. They had grown up in Florida and had geckos as pets. She said the only time she ever remembered her brother being truly happy was when they were kids, chasing lizards around. They got into some argument a while back, and he bought her a gecko as a make-up gift.

The gecko was named Tim and died two months before her brother did.

I had some good vibe, reggae-style music coming from the speakers in my room. I let Carrie hook her phone up to my speakers to play the music she wanted. She was on her back with her hands folded on her belly, staring up at the ceiling.

I worked hard, started with the outline of the lizard, then went into the shading. I wasn't used to using such bright colors and meshing them all together. It was such a happy-looking tattoo for such a sad story. As I was about to wrap things up, an idea came to me. It took me an extra couple minutes, but I added something extra and special for Carrie. On the back right leg of the gecko-the matching leg of the one she had the tattoo done on herself-I snuck in her brother's initials. You wouldn't see it unless you knew what to look for. 

After I cleaned it all up, I helped her to sit up and let her have a look. She smiled, her eyes glossed over, and she turned her face to me.

"It's better than anything I could have imagined," she said.

"Now, I've mentioned it before," I said. "I'll tell you again. The bright colors. They're going to need to be touched up here and there. So come see me when you need to. Okay?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"There's one other surprise here," I said.

I showed her the initials.

She gasped and covered her mouth.

"You good?"

"Yes," she said with her hand over her mouth. "It's perfect. It's … amazing."

"Good."

I helped Carrie to her feet after bandaging up her new tattoo. She threw her arms around me and thanked me for bringing her vision to life. That meant a lot to me. That's why I did what I did. It wasn't a money game. It wasn't about getting shit posted online. It was about bringing those stories to life. A story that was there forever now.

I sent her on her way and hung back in my room to clean up. I had two more appointments to round out another busy day at St. Skin.

My door opened with a hard knock, and Axel stood there. He was a fucking giant of a guy, and for some reason, he took to me.

"Break," he said.

"Yeah."

I followed him out back, and he was quick to light up a smoke. He then shook his pack of smokes to offer me one. The tip stuck out, calling my name.

"Nah," I declined.

"Still holding back?" he asked. "Nice. You must really like that woman."

"I broke up with her today," I said.

"You did what?"

"Don't start," I warned.

"She was gorgeous," Axel said. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I just wasn't feeling it."

"Feeling what? Her ass? Her tits? Her pu-"

"Axel, fuck off," I said.

"I don't get you, man. I'm sorry. You get these women. And then you dump them right around the same time. What is it?"

"Nothing."

"It's something, brother. I see it. I know you've been here for a couple years now, I see shit going down. You run every year. Then you come back, and you're angry. You're hurt. Then you find a new woman. Things go great. Then you just cut the cord. I mean, you could at least be an asshole and make them hate you a little."

I shook my head. "Don't worry about me."

"I don't," Axel said. "I'm just curious."

"You ever been in love?"

"Brother, I'm divorced," Axel said. "I rode the whole damn ride, okay? Getting together. Committing. Figuring out the feelings, the right time to propose, everything. Getting married. Figuring out life. Then having it all crash down. Been there, done that."

"Fair enough," I said. "Then you get it. There's someone that I made a promise to. And I'm not sure if that promise will come through on her end."

"Wait," Axel said. "Tell me this is some bullshit high school love story."

"No," I said. "It's a little deeper than that, Axel."