Something Brighter than the Moon (Michael)

Part 7

Okay, fine. I'll admit it. I might have always known that I was maybe, possibly, microscopically, the tiniest itsy bitsy bit gay. 

It seemed that I was gayer than originally planned.

The toilet seat cover creaked loudly as I shift my body, nervous. I had escaped after the kiss happened, mumbling something about needing to piss and getting the fuck out of there. I was terrified and embarrassed of what I had just done. I can already imagine their sneers and scoffs. And Quill. What will happen between us? I figure he'll hate me after that scene. They don't even know I'm gay!

The stall door seemed uncomfortably close, and the lights were emitting a nasty, bluish-white noise. I wondered, if I submerge my head in toilet water long enough, will I drown?

There was a clad and sharp knock on the door. Max's voice echos through the cramped room. "Hey dude? Are you okay?" I hear the door swing open and the hinges creak, a pale straw color. Reverberating footsteps find themselves in front of my stall. "We have to go. The day is not at an end, apparently--"

I groan, interrupting, "Just let me die here. I'll catch a ride home or something."

Max sighs, and I could visualize him suppressing a smile and shaking his head. "What, you'll get a ride as a dead man, then?" he teased.

"I'll work something out."

He exhales again. "Listen. I can't leave this bathroom without you. Mari says it's mandatory, anyways," I hear him lean against the door. "And you should fear that woman's wrath," he adds , and he was right. I open the door, but remained seated.

"What--what if he hates me?"

Max laughs and puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "He doesn't hate you. He's quite worried, actually. Scared that he made you mad or uncomfortable."

I looked up, surprised. "He thinks that? I'm just--" I hesitate. "--Scared. Startled. Flustered. Embarrassed." I looked down at my boots. "Nervous."

Max offers a hand and pulls me up. He leads me through the bathroom and back to our table, squished between alleys. My heart was in my stomache. 

Quill is sitting on the table with ankles crossed, twiddling an eyeliner pencil. He looks concentrated on the eyeliner pencil as he swings his legs back and forth. He sees me and turns a slight shade of pink as he leaps up. His legs make three long strides until he is right in front of me. He scratches behind his ear nervously. "Hey. Um--" He averts his eyes and focuses on a red gum ball machine in the corner. "Listen. If I crossed a line or--" 

I stop him mid-sentence. "No. You didn't. I-I was just...y'know. Embarrassed." 

He breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god. I was afraid I ruined our friendship." He turns the pencil over in his hand. 

"Well I'm glad you didn't!" I joke, slapping his arm playfully to signal that everything between us was all good. 

He chuckles and holds up the eyeliner pencil. "Now. Where we're going, you'll need to wear this." 

I put my hands up to object. "Nu-uh. No way I'm doing that! You'll stab out my eyes!" Quill pouts for a good three seconds flat until I, reluctantly, agree. He grabs my glasses and cups my chin in his hand. I look up as my eyes water from the tickle of the pencil. He takes his hand away and puts my glasses back on me. He stands back and tilts his head.

Aster walks up and looks at me, managing the same pose and face as Quill. "I like it." She says. She then motions to Alex for her purse and opens it up. She pulls out makeup wipes and black lipstick. I wave my hands to object but she gets the upper hand and glides it across my lips. Everyone pauses their conversations to stare. It's quite uncomfortable and I swear I saw Quill turn a slight shade of pink. 

Aster hands the makeup wipe to Max and stares at him with knowing eyes. He sighs and grabs it. As he runs it across his face and arms, foundation the color of Max's skin comes away and reveals the patches of lighter skin scattered on his skin. As he rubs across his face, the makeup washes away to show a, rather cool in my opinion, white patch covering a portion of his left forehead that circles his left eye like a claw. As he rubs away the makeup, numerous, small, patches that look like freckles appear. 

Max has vitiligo. (That means loss of pigment in the skin.) Consdiering he is Hispanic-Irish, the patches turn up more vivid then they would on my pale-ass skin. When I first met Max, I remember saying he looks like a calico cat. He didn't try and hide it until people started making fun of him. I still think he looks like a calico cat. 

                                                                                          •••

I was expecting literally anywhere else for our last destination. Where did we end up, you ask? 

A fucking tattoo parlor.

Aster holds open the door, which jingles, for us as we shuffle in. "Welcome to my new job! It's great!" She shuts the door behind us and we walk to the center of the parlor. I have to say, not half bad.

Leather smells fill the air. Sketches of everything to dragons to hibiscus flowers to naked pinup girls cover the walls. Angled chairs are placed next to tables and carts stocked with sketch paper and piercing supplies. A large desk is cluttered with paper and rulers. A  shelf in the corner holds ink bottles, needle tips, and some sort of handheld machine. A neon sign clings to the wall, bright purple. "Misfit Parlor," it reads. I look around at our diverse group and chuckle. How coincidental.

The owner walks out of a back room, short, curly black hair ruffled and olive skinned arms decorated with a large, red dragon. A large leather jacket, much like Quill's, is tied around theIr waist. Chains jangle as they walk towards us. They run their fingers through their hair. "Aster! You brought costumers!" They say in a velvet green voice. She smirks and gives the genderless person a large hug. 

Aster motions to us. "Bram! Let me introduce you to everyone! This is our adopted mother, Mari. This is my boyfriend, Alex. Lee and her boyfriend, Max. Christine and her girlfriend, Ellie. Ollie and his boyfriend, Quill." She turns to me and winks. I feel color rising in my face, which is very, very, very warm. 

Quill laughs uneasily and waves his hands. "No. It's not like that at all. We're just friends!" 

I frown, slightly disappointed. Why am I disappointed, you ask? Well, I have no clue.

Bram chuckles. "Wow! That's a lot of people! I might as well introduce myself. Hi. I'm Bram. I am the co-owner of this establishment. Yes, I prefer to be called a boy but who cares about gender anyways?" He winks at us and waves us to the back room. 

We follow him to a small-ish room with a large, reclining, leather chair. More sketches decorate the walls and an ink and needle cart is shoved into the corner. Another cart holds piercings and needles. He turns to is as he closes the door. "So, what are we getting today?" 

I panic. Are we really getting tattoos?

Mari interrupts my thoughts. "I think we might do some piercings. What do you guys think?" She says to us. We all nod uneasily as she pulls out her wallet and hands Bram some bills.

 He shoves the money into his pocket. The door jingles and footsteps click-clack closer until a short figure appears in the doorway. 

She wears a flushed, dreamy expression and her long pale hair floats behind her. A blue hoodie hangs over a pale pink, ankle length dress. A headband with ridiculous antlers are clinging to her head. She smiles widely. "Bram! I picked up some groceries!" Teal floods her mouth as she holds up a plastic bag that is hanging from her right wrist. 

Bram grins. "Just put it in the fridge in the break room. Thanks, Julie!" He grabs a quick side hug as she skips out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

Bram lingers than claps his hands together. "Alright. Let's get started, shall we?"

A/N: I'm sorry if it's shit but I needed to update. I've been quite behind lately.