you stared blankly at the notification on your phone, wide-eyed and jaw agape. you blinked slowly, rubbed a hand down your face, and then clicked your phone off and back on again. the screen lit back up to your screensaver and the single notification that sat covering it. '@sincitytattoojp tagged you in their story! check it out!'
you looked up from your phone to your friend, who you now realized was calling your name and snapping her fingers. "uh, hello? earth to y/n? what's going on? did your ex message you or something?"
"i think i won something." you mumbled, turning your phone to show your friend. she furrowed her brows together and took your phone from your hand, studying the notification before cracking a grin.
"is this that tattoo parlor in tokyo that you keep talking about hypothetically going to?" she laughed as she punched in your passcode and opened up instagram, pressing on the icon to the parlor's instagram story.
you were quick to snatch your phone back to watch the story yourself, raising the volume on your phone to hear it. it was a video of someone's hand reaching into a very full fishbowl of printed instagram handles, pulling out a tiny piece of paper and unfolding it to reveal your instagram username. the caption read in big red lettering, "congrats to @[y/n] for winning the human canvas raffle. reply to this post by midnight to schedule your slot."
you swallowed thickly and looked up at your friend. "i won the fucking raffle. i won the nine hour session."
your friend sucked in a breath before laughing and lifting her glass to you. "godspeed, soldier."
you looked back down at your phone and clicked back to rewatch your name be pulled from the bowl. you had entered the contest on a whim – you hadn't expected to win. you had reposted the parlor's picture and tagged your three closest friends to enter a bid into becoming a human canvas for a day, i.e. getting tattooed and pierced until you tapped out. the parlor owners couldn't seem to decide on whether to call it the human canvas contest or the no mercy challenge, not that it mattered. both fit the bill to describe what you had just won.
you swiped up on the story.
you: i dont know whether to be terrified or excited.
@sincitytattoojp: both, sweetheart. sign this and get it back to us [1 attachment]
.....
you had gone through an extensive back and forth that night, printing and signing and scanning different waivers and papers to ensure that you would be able to handle an entire day of sitting in a chair getting poked and prodded with needles and getting art permanently printed on your skin forever. you were grateful that they took so much precaution in ensuring you were well aware of the situation you were putting yourself in, and getting ample consent confirmed ahead of time. you already felt comfortable as you stepped off the train in tokyo and started towards the shop.
sin city tattoo and body art. the small tattoo shop had garnered a massive following around the globe for the gorgeous work that consistently poured from the studio. the artists had never shown their faces on their page, but it was clearly just a two man show. sometimes one of them would film the other doing their newest piece on a client they handpicked from the waiting list, and it was clear that the two were a little more than close friends.
you trusted their work. you were a new client, obviously, but after following their page for over a year, you knew you would be okay with going through with this. you were just... inexperienced. you had a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on your ankle and your ears double pierced in the lobes, but that was it.
