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"One more shot, Selene-" Anne piped up, shoving the glass at my mouth as a bit of the liquor wet my lips. "You need all the courage you can get."

"Anne, I think I've had enough to not bail out-" I hiccuped. The room spun for a few seconds before I squinted at the brunette with too many bottles and not enough sobriety to stop me from what I was going to do.

She giggled, "We can get matching ones. Although-" her legs stretched down from the stool to touch the ground. "I really wanna get a quote."

I stood up after her, grabbing my jacket from the couch and slipping it on. "What's it gonna say?" I tripped on our carpet, but Anne was close by. There was a sickening feeling in my stomach, but I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the thought of a permanent mark being made by a needle that would carve my skin to remind me of this night.

She shrugged, "Beats me."

**

We stumbled our way into the small shop that we only passed by every time we came back from grocery shopping. The windows were only tinted enough to barely peek through, so Anne and I didn't really try to peer in and instead we usually just went on our way. But tonight was different. Tonight was my twentieth birthday and despite being an absolute failure to my parents, Anne made sure to fill in that empty void with heavy liquor and ink.

"Hello, ladies," a man with a furry moustache and an old leather vest kindly greeted us. He was working on a guy with a blank expression; his large muscles flexing with every run he did over the guy's arm with the needle- tattoos in full display. My stomach churned.

"Hi!" Anne beamed. "How long is the wait?"

The man wiped his chin with the back of his hand before looking over his shoulder, "Harry! You've got two eager customers."

"Actually, we can come back another day-" I smiled nervously, pushing Anne back through the door.

"No, Selene!-" she sternly looked at me and then warmed her expression at the man. "She's such a pussy, but it's her birthday so she's not getting out of this one."

The man laughed, shaking his head as he finished up the guy, "All done." Both stood up from the black, sleek chairs and made their way over to the cash register. "Fourty bucks."

It was amusing to see this tough man being so emotionless with the guy, but his demeanor changed considerably when he talked to us.

"I'm here, Lance." My head snapped at the sound of a male's voice coming from our far right. He was smiling at Lance and then turned to look at us. His eyes were green and his hair was slicked back, black t-shirt covering some tattoos, the rest were visible on his arms. "Hi," his eyes lingered on mine. 

Anne nudged my stomach, I blinked a few times. "Hi."

"Selene will go with you," Anne slurred slightly, slyly introducing me to him. Even in her drunken state did she manage to pull something off. "She wants- oh shit," Anne stumbled in her heels. "I don't know what she wants, actually." I closed my eyes for a few seconds, trying not to sound as drunk as I felt. 

"If you'd like, you can look through our book of tattoos," Harry said with a smile, making his way over to the counter before picking up a book and handing it to us. "You could have a seat."

Anne flipped through the book, pointing at images here and there, but all I saw were blurry blobs of black. She shrugged and told the man with the moustache she wanted a quote that would be worthy of a drunken mistake and the poor judgement she had- we had.

She propped herself on the chair, previously occupied by the guy, and closed her eyes as she stretched her arm out to the man without any hesitation.

"I just want a small music note on my wrist," I blurted out. In all honesty, I loved listening to music and I wanted to get this night over with. I was beginning to feel the emotions I had pushed back all day that emerged from not getting a single call from my parents.

"Alright, have a seat on this chair," Harry pointed in front of where he was sitting. Slowly, I stood up, making sure not to move too fast and fall face first in front of a stranger. After I was seated, he turned his back to me, spinning in a chair so that he was able to grab a clean needle and a liquid. "Do you know what kind of music note?" 

I shrugged, "Just make it the small and simple one, please." He nodded, opening a marker from beside him and popping the cap in between his red, stained lips. Then, he scribbled out the music note, looking up from his sketch to make sure it was what I wanted. Once I agreed and he put the marker away, he held his hand out, motioning for me to give him my arm. I felt his long fingers through the white gloves; they were firm, but comfortable. 

Small lines formed on his forehead in concentration at putting the small piece of paper over my wrist and peeling it off. This no longer felt surreal, I was really going to get a tattoo. "Ready?" His eyes gazed into mine as the machine started in a low buzz.

There was a small metallic taste in my mouth, "Yeah."

He looked back down, but before the needle made contact with my skin, he whispered, "The pain's in your head- and that makes it hurt so much more than the physical pain we feel on the outside."

I thought about the look of disappointment my mother gave me when I told her I didn't want to become a lawyer and instead, planned to move out of the city with my long term best friend. The spite in her eyes that burned deep into my brain as she yelled at me for being such a disgrace, for not agreeing to become the girlfriend of her friend's son and for not putting up with her bullshit anymore. And my dad, who stood beside her and told me not to come back until I had my priorities straight.

The spots of red blurred, everything was such a mess. I choked out a sob, Harry's hand shot up at the same time his head did. My head shook at him as I bit down on my lip. "Selene?" I heard Anne call from beside, but I didn't want anyone to look at me. My head hung low in shame.

"Hey," he whispered, his eyes wide in worry. "You're almost done, I promise you'll be okay." 

"Selene, are you alright?" Anne slurred.

I felt my body shaking, the room was spinning. I stood up, but the ground moved from under me. The floor seemed to be the only stable thing in my life. No matter how many times I hit rock bottom, it was always there and I was ready to welcome it as much as it welcomed me, but I felt arms pulling me in close to a warm chest. "I've got you."

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