"Bye, have a good one!" You told your customer as they walked out the door.

You ducked under the counter of the old tattoo parlor and grabbed your leather book of designs out. Flipping through the pages, you checked off yet another one of your designs that a customer managed to get. 

Not many young women find themselves working in a tattoo parlor, but after finishing school, you realized your one passion: Art. Not the kind of art where you sit there for hours with a paintbrush. You tried painting before, it was okay but you loved a different kind of art. Body art.

You even got a few yourself of course. You had on on each wrist, one on your forearm, and another one on your shoulder but on the back and you loved them. You couldn't help it they were awesome to have.

Anyway, you just finished with your last costumer and you were waiting for another one to walk in right about...

"Hey! We're here for our appointment," You heard a voice call out from the counter. You walked up and saw two boys one with really curly hair and another one with almost no hair at all. The one with barley any hair looked around nineteen? Eh, the point is he looked old enough but the other one with a lot of curly hair looked really young. Well not that young but not old enough to get a tattoo.

"Okay. Can I see your IDs," You ask,  a little weary.

"Wait, what?" The curly haired one asks, shocked.

"Your...IDs? Can I see them to make sure your 18?" You ask, a little confused as to why that was confusing for him.

The other boy hands you his ID, no questions asked.

"Thanks," You say taking it from him. His name is Liam. It suits him well. You looked down at the picture and back up at his face to see if it matches him. Looking at his birthday you realize you are right; he was nineteen. "Alright, you're good." You smile handing it back to him.

"Are you going to wait for your friend to be done, then?" You ask the curly haired one who is still standing there dumbfounded.

"Harry, mate-" Liam starts only to be cut off.

"This has never happened to me before," Harry not so subtly whispers to Liam.

You let out a big sigh place your book of designs back underneath the counter and look back up at the emerald green eyed boy.

"Um...Harry is it?" You say interrupting their conversation. "You can just wait over there while I work on Liam," You tell him pointing over to the chairs in the front of the store.

This was honestly ridiculous. You always hated when customers start making scenes because they don't want to show their ID. Of course, 99% of the time it was because they weren't old enough and the other 1% were just offended they didn't look old enough.

"Erm-," Harry starts off and clears his throat. "You'll have to forgive me, love. This doesn't happen to me often," He says chuckling as he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.

"What doesn't?" You ask

"People usually already know who I am before I even start talking," He explains taking his ID and stretching his arm out to you.

"Why?" You ask glancing down at Harry's picture and birthdate before handing the piece of plastic over to him.

"Well for one," He starts, picking up one of the magazines the store has for customers to read while they wait. He points to the boy in the center of the cover.

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