The Good, The Bad, The Ex (Decisions, Decisions...) ON HOLD!!

Chapter 5

A/N: Hola! Hope you enjoy this one, Picture of Justin on the side since I couldn't find a celebrity I thought would fit. Remember feed back is always lovely as it helps me to know to continue or not. Gracias! -S xx

The following morning I had decided I needed to finally start my job hunt. I had already been turned down by several companies, and as I was approaching the last building I felt like a giant loser. I mean first I sit through drug classes last night and basically get brainwashed into thinking I have a problem and how much I suck, and now no one will hire me! I might as well get convict tattooed on my forehead. Society has deemed me that any way so it must be a perfect fit.

I opened the intimidating glass door to the food magazine I will be interviewing for today. My black patent leather heels clicked across the floor as I approached the front desk.

"How can I help you?" A snotty looking gray haired woman spoke to me with distaste.

"Um, I'm here for the 11 o'clock interview with" I paused looking down at a piece of paper "Martha."

"Head up to floor 10, room 5. I'll let her know you're here." She said sighing. I rolled my eyes and as I walked away I could feel her gaze burning a hole into me. I wouldn't know why though, all my tattoos had been covered up and I was dressed to impress!

I got up into the interviewing room after waiting a good 20 minutes and felt like it went really well. That was until they gave me the dreaded 'We'll call you to see if you're a good fit' deal. That's just a polite way of saying 'fuck off' in my opinion.

I walked out of the building and was greeted by overcast weather. I had walked a good bit so far today so I decided to take a taxi to my next destination.

I climbed into the taxi immediately popping off my shoes to let my aching pups take a breather. Not that they are smelly or anything, just sore.

I gave him a familiar address; I was heading over to Bobby's workplace called 'custom ink', a tattoo parlor not a place you'd go to pimp your ride just so were clear.

I scrolled through my Facebook on my iPhone lazily slumped over in the car seat until we arrived.

I paid the man and hopped out quickly running into custom ink. I was greeted by a fat heavily tattooed and pierced bald man that I have come to know as Jimmy.

"Hey Jimbo, what's crackin'!?" I said walking over to him grinning.

"Oh nothing much sweets, you looking for Bob?" he asked smiling back at me. He may look big and scary but he is like a giant teddy bear!

"Yup" I said popping the 'p'.

"You can head on back; I think he's cleaning up his station." He said nodding his head in that general direction before answering the phone.

I nodded back and made my way through the electric blue tattoo parlor. The air smelled of cleaning solution and all I could hear were tattoo guns buzzing about. My body twitched at the sound, I was practically itching for another tattoo. Before I made any rash decisions I stopped myself. After all I needed to be professional and stop being a 'hoodlum'.

I snuck up behind Bobby as he was cleaning his instruments.

"Guess who!"I said covering his eyes with my hands whilst speaking in a British accent.

"The queen of England?!" He shouted answering my question.

"No just me" I pouted letting him see the disappointed side of me.

"What's wrong little beeb's?" He asked patting a spot on his lap.

I plopped down and cuddled up to his muscular body.