“You don’t have to do this,” Bennett told me. “I mean, Snow White hanged out with guys and she didn’t have to turn into a dwarf.”
“Y’know, you just called us dwarves. You just called yourself a dwarf.”
I snorted.
“What is it?”
“Oh, I was just imagining Raymond as the Evil Queen.”
“It’ll be pretty easy,” Jordan said. “He probably spends most of his day checking himself out in the mirror.”
“Like you?” Bennett asked.
“Hey! This “out of the bed” hair takes a while to make.”
“Do you know what takes less time?” Declan asked. “Actual “out of the bed” hair. I would know.”
He looked at them for agreement, but the other guys didn’t. He then looked at me, and I merely just looked away and started to whistle.
“Fine then,” he huffed.
Right after they told me they’ll make me an official musketeer, Jordan left to his room for an hour. Bennett played a video game with the five-screen computer, which looked really awesome. Declan decided to take a nap and was quietly snoring beside me as the video game droned out his snores. I wanted him to sleep in his bed, but he refused wanting to miss this.
But miss what?
All in one day, I just saw what happens if you’ve been shot thanks to Declan and learned more about the guys gang wise than I thought I ever could. Most people would call the cops, others would call the ambulance, and most of them would just get up and walk away, cut all strings with them. But I didn’t, and I don’t know why. The guys could’ve just walked away once they saw how much of a hopeless cause I was, maybe even am. But they didn’t either, and I’ grateful for that.
I remembered back in my early bullied years when I was desperate to have a friend, better yet, friends. And the thing was, they knew how desperate I was. They told me in order for me to be their friend, I had to do a number of stupid, embarrassing, and even disgusting tasks for them. As I did those things that I’m not proud of or don’t even want to repeat, all they did was laugh and even made a video to capture the moment so they can replay it over and over again.
The sad thing was I didn’t become their friend. I should have expected that they were just leading me on, playing with my want for friends. But the desperation for just one person to know my name, acknowledge my existence, smile at the sight of me, and happy that I’m here, was stronger than my brain telling me that the thought was stupid and impossible.
Yet here I am, supposedly having to face through this whole ceremony to be a musketeer. To me, it sounds pretty stupid, but at the same time, it sounds fun, everything’s fun when I’m with them. At first I thought it’ll be like before, having to go through a bunch of things just to be friends. But it’s not like that with them. For one, we’re already friends, this just makes us more than friends like…really good friends, best friends, siblings? I don’t know about that, but I do know:
One for all and all for one.
Unlike those people who made me do those things to not be friends with them, it’s supposed to be a ceremony of being more than friends with the guys. I don’t know if anyone would have to go through such extremes to be better friends with them, but then again, I did sign a contract with them. But all in all, I’m happy that could be a part of this.
And c’mon, who wouldn’t want to be called a musketeer?
Jordan came back after the hour was up and Bennett asked me the day old question:
“So you really want to do this?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“But really Naomi,” Declan said. “Are you sure you want to-“
“She already said yes the first time,” Jordan told him. “Don’t make her doubt it. Just have her accept it before she can change her mind.” He looked at me. “You’re about to go through a sacred ceremony no one has ever seen-“
“Or done, because we never had to do this,” Declan added.
“Then why do I have to do this?”
“Don’t ask questions,” Jordan said as he continued, “Once you’ve gone through this ceremony, you’ll become a new person. But the question -shut up, I know I said don’t ask questions- anyway, the question still remains: do you accept the terms and agreements in going through this ceremony, for if you don’t, it’ll be blasphemy!” As he said this, he flashed a small post-it note with a couple of scribbles on it that I could barely see.
“Can’t I see it closer at-“
“Do you accept?” He demanded.
“Wait, could you-“
“Do you accept?” He repeated.
“Alright, I accept!”
He smiled. “Cool! Then let’s get to it!”
When he came back into the room he was carrying this huge book. He held it out in front of him then blew the dust out off it, making us all cough.
“You know I have allergies.”
“What’s wrong with you? You don’t just blow dust at someone.”
“How did you get that thing so dusty?”
Jordan patted the rest of the dust off. “It’s really just dirt, I made it look dusty for affect.” Suddenly he held the book over his head. “Now behold! A sacred book with an even more sacred text for our eyes only!”
“What is it?” Declan asked.
“The Bro Code!”
“Of course it is,” Declan muttered.
“And why exactly do you have that?” Bennett asked him.
“This is what will be part of the musketeer ceremony where you will be knighted, I think that’s the term. A sacred text needs to be present and… Wait!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be right back. I forgot this one other thing.” Without saying what he forgot, he quickly left the room.
“What do you think he’s getting?” I asked them.
“His dignity?” Declan offered.
Bennett shrugged. “His intelligence?”
“That can’t be it,” I said. “You need a brain for intelligence.”
“Good thing I have one then,” Jordan said, walking back into the room.
“So what did you have to get?” Declan asked him.
“This-” he said as he revealed what he was hiding behind his back was a lightsaber. He turned it on and it glowed a bright green, and as it did it even had that special effect sound when you light up a lightsaber.
“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” I muttered.
“Bennett, as leader, you shall do the honors of knighting Naomi,” he announced. “Well, musketeer thee I mean, since I’ll knight you as a musketeer… Now I’m just confusing myself.”
Bennett took the lightsaber by its hilt, looking at it unsurely as if he was trying to figure out how stupid this was on a scale one to ten.
“Naomi, kneel,” Jordan told me, “go down on one knee as if you’ll propose to him.”
Bennett blinked. “What? Why Jordan? You can’t just say that.”
“You shouldn’t have- Don’t ever say it like that,” I said.
“Oh c’mon, how hard is it to go down on one knee? All guys do it at one point of their lives,” he said before adding, “hopefully. It’s easy, just do it like this.”
Jordan went down on one knee, and then looked up at Bennett with his eyes sparkling.
“I don’t care if you’re my friend, I will kick you. I’m only telling you this as a warning because you are my friend.”
Not wanting that, he turned to Declan and even grabbed his hands. Before he could say anything stupid, Declan casually kicked Jordan square on his chest and knocked him on the ground.
Jordan composed himself and looked at me. “Do you want to be knighted with a lightsaber or not?”
It’s an opportunity of a lifetime, so obviously I went down on one knee.
“How does it go again?” He thought aloud to himself. “Oh right.” He then whispered something into Bennett’s ear before opening the book.
“Do I really have to say it like that?”
“Exactly.”
“Really?”
“It’s no fun if you don’t.
Bennett sighed. “We’re all gathered here today, not for a wedding ceremony- Jordan I can’t believe you’re making me do this- but for the knighting I mean, musketeering –I don’t even think that’s a word- for Naomi Lorraine. I, Bennett Frazier, along with my fellow musketeers, Declan Lynch and Jordan Wallace, have decided you are noble for such a title. Now you shall swear the Musketeer Oath.”
“Which I created just an hour ago,” Jordan said proudly as he cracked open the Bro Code to a random page.
“Then what’s the use for the book then?” Declan asked.
“To make it look more official, duh. Now don’t interrupt me.” He cleared his throat and began. “Do you, Naomi Lorraine, swear to never discriminate, violate, retaliate, or anything else that ends with –ate, fellow Musketeers, unless it’s on a joking matter, or the Musketeer name?”
“Yes.”
“No, you have to say, ‘I do’,” he corrected me.
“I do?” I asked him.
“Yeah, like that,” then he went on. “Do you swear to wear your brand-“
“Brand? What brand?”
He winked at me. “We’ll talk about that later.” Then he continued, “-to wear your brand with pride though not show it to other people because it’ll give away your secret,” he paused. “I don’t get why I put this, it doesn’t make any sense, but whatever, do you swear?”
“I think I do.”
“Don’t think, know.”
“Alright, I know I do.”
“Do you swear you will always stay awesome, and if possible become even awesomer, until the time comes?”
“What time?”
“I don’t know, until you lose your awesomeness or die, something like that.”
“Oh, okay. I do.”
“And finally,” he said. “Do you swear to live up to the Musketeer Oath until that same time comes?”
“I do.”
“Bent?”
He raised the lightsaber and had to come close to my shoulder.
“Be careful,” Jordan warned him. “Its pure plasma, the lightsaber is the deadliest weapon in the universe.”
“Yeah, please don’t hurt me,” I said.
Bennett lifted the lightsaber and did the unthinkable. He touched the blade with his bare hands.
“Bennett no! What’s wrong with you?” Jordan demanded.
“It’s a glowstick.”
“His hand is gone!” I exclaimed. “Why did you do it, Bennett? Why?”
“It’s a glowstick.”
“You take the fun out of anything,” Jordan and I said in unison.
Going back to the whole thing, he had the blade hover above my shoulder, being careful it doesn’t touch it or else my arm will just be cut off, then did the same with my other shoulder.
“I kn- I mean musketeer thee,” he said, his voice showing a hint of boredom. “I dub thee, Naomi Lorraine, a musketeer.”
Jordan shut the book abruptly making me jump in surprise, almost hitting the lightsaber. “And with the power invested in me- which is a lot of power,” he added before singing, “I got the power!”
“Jordan,” Declan and Bennett said.
“Sorry, I had to do it,” Jordan said sheepishly before looking back at me. “Naomi, you’re an official musketeer.”
Without missing a beat, Declan threw a couple of confetti into the air and it rained down all of us. I could help but laugh along with them until Bennett told him that he needs to clean it up. Declan tried to play the “I just got shot” card, but Bennett countered he can always use his good arm, especially since he’s right-handed. Whether my friendship with the guys became better or didn’t change at all, I don’t mind either way. I’m just happy where I am.
And it’s pretty cool I’ve been kn- musketeered by a lightsaber.
“So…” I said. “Did you say something about a brand?”
-
“I can’t believe we’re actually having her get a tattoo,” Bennett muttered as he drove the car.
Declan was back at the base, thankfully in his bed sleeping. He was mad that he wouldn’t be able to come, but at the same time he looked grateful to go to sleep. We at least promised him some food once we came back.
“I don’t know why you’re so against it, you have more than what we originally got,” Jordan told him.
“And I want one,” I said. “I mean, I didn’t think I’d get one so soon. I’ve always thought I’d get one in college or in prison.”
They looked at me.
“I was kidding about the last part.”
“Yeah, we figured,” Bennett said. “It’s just about you wanting a tattoo part.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, I just think tattoos are cool, especially the unique and creative ones. People with tattoos are really cool to me.” I looked at Bennett.
He eyed me at the rearview mirror. “I can see your eyes sparkling Naomi. Why are you looking at me?”
“You’re the one with the most tattoos.”
“So automatically I’m labeled as cool?” He asked in disbelief.
“Yeah,” I said along with Jordan.
“What made you guys get tattoos in the first place?” I asked them.
“Heads or tails,” they answered in unison.
“Wait, so you’re telling me that you guys did a coin toss whether you should get a tattoo of not?”
“Pretty much,” Jordan said. “I told them that we’ll look really badass if we had one. Declan thought it was stupid but knew a tattoo itself would be cool, and Bennett didn’t care either way. So heads we get a tattoo, tails we don’t. And guess which one we got,” he said with a grin.
I didn’t guess. “Then what about the tattoo itself, the fleur-de-lis, what made you decide that?”
Jordan answered that one. “Back at my old school I had this book report and chose a book from a reading list. I chose The Three Musketeers, and I remember there was this tattoo in the book.”
“But you do know it’s not only a brand for criminals, but for prost-“
“We’re okay with it being the first thing,” Jordan cut in.
“And it also for decoration and representing coat of arms, so it’s alright,” Bennett told me.
“Are we going to that same guy?” Jordan asked Bennett.
“We don’t know anyone else so yeah,” Bennett answered. “I got my other tattoos from him, so it’ll be alright.”
Alright, it’ll be alright.
It was late at night when we arrived to a tattoo parlor. Bennett parked the car behind the building and we had to walk all the way around to the front. When we entered there was a small chime of the makeshift doorbell that hung on top of the door for the people knew a customer came in.
“Hey Milo, you here?” Bennett called out.
Jordan started to play around and acted as if he was calling a dog back with whistling. “Milo? C’mere boy! Milo?”
I punched him on the shoulder. “Don’t call him like he’s a dog, whoever he is.”
The walls were with black wallpaper that was covered with different tattoo styles in frames. At the other side was a long mirror that had two black salon stairs in front of it.
“Milo, it’s-” Bennett stopped when we suddenly heard someone talk rapidly in a different language.
“I’ll tell you one last time, we’re not a Chinese restaurant!” The voice exclaimed from a different room before we heard a slam of a phone going back to its handset.
I turned around and was about to walk back to the door when Bennett caught me by the shirt and dragged me back to place.
“How can you get scared by someone saying that?” He asked me.
“I just don’t think it’s best to bother someone when they’re mad and have a lot of tools that can hurt you,” I said nervously as I eyed the big needles on the counter next to the salon chairs.
The voice muttered something in their language before saying, “Yeah, Milo’s here, whaddya want- Hey, it’s you guys!”
This Milo was a pretty tall guy with a skinny frame, probably well older than us. He had long black hair that was tied into a messy ponytail bun. He was wearing a loose black tank top and black jeans, to show that he was practically he covered in body tattoos head to toe which he confirmed later. And he had piercings of all kinds, from snakebites, a lot on both ears, plugs, one on his eyebrow, a nose piercing, and even a tongue one since I noticed a flash of silver as he talked.
He may looked pretty intimidating at first, but he wore a smile as big as Jordan’s usual smile, it’s like they were both the top of their smiling class.
“Long time no see. I haven’t seen you since you first got a tattoo, as well as that other guy,” he said to Jordan. “Where is he?”
“He’s taking a nap,” Jordan said curtly.
Suddenly Jordan’s pocket began to ring. Jordan took out his phone, looked at it, and then declined the call before pocketing it back. Then Bennett’s pocket started to ring, which he took out and looked at the screen.
“Don’t answer it,” Jordan told him.
Bennett rolled his eyes and answered it. He listened to the person then put his phone on speaker.
“Why the hell didn’t you pick up Jordan?” Declan’s voice demanded from the phone.
I blinked. “Declan?”
“I didn’t feel like it,” Jordan grumbled, crossing his arms.
“You should be asleep,” I told Declan.
“I was, but then I woke up because I needed to pee. Then I tried to go back to sleep again, but then I woke up because I’m hungry. Now I tried to go back to sleep, but then I woke up because I’m bored,” he whined. “I hate being sho-”
Bennett suddenly put the phone off speaker, probably since Milo was there, then put it back on speaker.
“-so now I’m here. So continue with whatever you’re doing. Are you getting your tattoo now?”
“Not yet,” Benentt told him. “We’re just catching up with Milo here.”
“Declan was it?” Milo asked with a chuckle. “I’d say long time no see, but I’m not seeing you, so I’ll just go with long time no hear.”
“Hey,” the phone greeted Milo. “Could you do me a favor, if Jordan would ever get any future tattoos, be sure it’s extremely painful, alright?”
Milo laughed, but thankfully didn’t agree with him. Instead, he turned to Bennett, “You, I’ve seen a couple months ago.” Then his eyes landed on me. “And you. I’ve never seen you before.”
His smile was contagious. “I’m Naomi.”
“Well hi Naomi, the name’s Milo,” he said as he shook my hand. “And something tells me you’re here for a tattoo.”
I nodded.
“Now the first question is: how old are you? I got this new policy that only 18 and up can get tattoos here. No way I’m gonna talk to anymore angry parents for giving their 16-year-old a tattoo, blah, blah, blah. Good thing I pretended I didn’t know any English.” He laughed to himself and shooked his head. “Works every time.”
“I’m 17, turning 18 next year though.”
“Good enough!” He said with a grin. “Though Jordan here had it when he was 16, the money speaks my language. Do you have any money that speaks my language?”
“Is he asking me?” Declan asked us through the phone. “I think he should be asking Bennett for that one.”
“Yeah, we do,” Bennett told him, holding out a couple of dollars folded into a clip.
He looked at me. “Now if you’re nervous, it’s okay to be,” Milo assured me. “I mean look at these guys for example. No, I don’t mean Bennett, that guy had this poker face while guys bigger than him looked like they wanted to piss themselves before, during, and after their tattoo session.” He coughed. “I can’t say the same thing for those other two.”
“I don’t know about Declan,” Jordan began.
“You’re lucky I’m not there Jordan!” Declan yelled at Jordan through the phone.
Jordan ignored him. “But I never-”
Milo raised a pierced eyebrow at him.
“Yeah he’s right,” he admitted, hanging his head in shame.
“Declan?” Milo asked him.
The phone was quiet as if he was put on mute.
Milo went back to me. “But you’re a girl, so it’s alright for you to be scared unlike those guys.” He paused. “I didn’t mean to sound sexist or anything.” He scratched his head and quickly changed the subject. “Do you know what tattoo you want?”
“Well I-“
“There’s many to choose from,” Milo told me as he pointed at a whole bookshelf of big binders. “You’re free to look through the many tattoo designs I have, from pictures to words, I can do it.”
“That’s-“
“But just a warning here, don’t piss me off. Once a really annoying drunk guy made me mad and he asked for the Chinese characters of strength, so I put shrimp fried rice instead.” He chuckled to himself.
We all snorted at that, even Declan from the phone.
“But yeah, I know what tattoo I want. I want that one,” I said as I pointed behind me, having the two lift up their shirts to reveal their own tattoos simultaneously.
“I bet you guys are showing your tattoos,” Declan wistfully.
“Why do you sound jealous?” I asked him.
“A reason to lift up your shirt? Why not?”
Milo shooked his head at that. “So another member of the fleur-de-lis club, huh?” He mused. “Well alright then, you would want the second tattoo along with it, right?”
I blinked. “Second tattoo?”
“We told her, didn’t we?” Jordan asked.
“I don’t think we did,” Declan told him.
“No, I think we forgot,” Bennett said.
“Do you mean the tattoos on your fingers?” I asked them.
“So she does know,” Jordan said. “When did we tell her though?”
“I think I saw a flash of it once,” I lied, though I felt Bennett’s eyes on me.
They each took off the covering on their fingers. Jordan unraveled the band-aid off his left pinky finger. Then Bennett took off his ring on his right index finger. The both of them had the tattoo of a fancy M that’s to the power of one, two and three.
“Declan uses make-up to cover his tattoo that’s on his right middle finger,” Jordan told me. “Stupid if you asked me.”
“No it isn’t!” Declan snapped. “Not as stupid as your band-aid, Naomi was about to find about your tattoo and you lied about some dumb scar. You can’t even draw attention on my tattoo because the make-up covers it up.”
“Yeah, with the right skin color,” Jordan mocked.
“Hey, my light mocha skin is a specific tone. You don’t know how hard it was to find the right-”
“As much as we love to hear your struggles of cosmetic shopping, we should go back to sticking a permanent tattoo on Naomi.”
“We put the tattoos based on our writing hand,” Bennett explained which also told me that Jordan was left-handed, “My fleur-de-lis tattoo is on the right of me, same for Declan, Jordan has it on his left. And for the fingers, it’s for what it means to us.”
“I got this cute finger poster on which finger means,” Milo said as he pointed at a poster behind him on the wall which showed a hand with words on top of each finger. “The pinky means promise, the ring finger means love, the middle means to provoke, the index means to lead or direct, and the thumb means good luck.”
I looked at my hand. “Well since I’m a righty, it’ll be on my right hand, and I’ll have it on my… ring finger.”
“Love,” Milo said, nodding with a smirk. “So let me guess, it’ll have the letter M to the fourth power, yes?”
“I guess so.”
Suddenly the phone began to ring. Milo glared at it then sighed. “If it’s another one…”But he went towards it and picked up the phone. He was quiet for a moment, nodding his head and even began to write something down on a pad.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, and you want that to-go, right?” The person on the phone said something. “Alright then, now how about you tell that to an actual Chinese restaurant? What do you mean why am I talking to you like that? Oh, this is bad customer service? This isn’t even a Chinese restaurant! This is a tattoo parlor! You want a tattoo? No? Then stop bothering me!” Now he was talking his language rapidly, probably cursing the guy out until he finally hung up.
He walked back to us calmly and smiled. “I won the argument in case you were wondering.”
“Things still haven’t changed, huh?” Jordan asked him.
“What gave it away?” Milo asked sarcastically.
Milo let out a sigh and answered my questioning look. “For some reason, my business phone number is a number off to a Chinese restaurant. Maybe the universe hates me or those people don’t know how to count and give the wrong number, because people have been asking if they could pick up their food or if I deliver. But it gets better, the restaurant it really popular and expanding, so more calls for me.”
I patted him at the back. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t know how many people ask for fried rice, it’s like the only thing they know is fried rice.” He cleared his throat. “But enough about me and my sad business life, let’s go back to you. What about your fleur-de-lis tattoo? Where do you want to put it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Where is the best place to hide a tattoo for a girl?”
“That is a very good question,” he said as he picked up a book from the counter. “The next best question is: do you like to wear bikinis?”
I blinked as my cheeks involuntarily reddened. “I um-“
The guys glared at him.
“Dude, what’s with you?” Jordan asked.
“You can’t just ask her that,” Bennett told him.
“My voice on the phone may not sound threatening, but-”
“Relax. Don’t get all protective, I’m not making a move on her,” Milo assured them calmly, waving them off. “It’s a serious question. If you want to hide a tattoo, it’s best to know what type of clothes you wear so you won’t accidentally flash someone your ink.”
“Oh,” they said.
“Well no, I don’t really wear that kind of stuff,” I said, still a bit embarrassed. “I mean I don’t really go swimming especially at the community pool…” I trailed off, not really wanting to tell him I’m bullied or anything. “But maybe when I’m older.”
“So somewhere you’re alright for people to see out of high school, but not right now,” he said as he began to circle around me, yet his eyes on the book as he flipped through it. “No one you want would see your tattoo unless they see you in your underwear which I doubt will be happening anytime soon, right guys?
“Why are you asking us?” Bennett demanded.
“Nothing,” he said innocently, stretching the word before going back to me. “Do you usually wear jeans, or sometimes shorts? And are you a shoes or sandals kind of girl?”
“Sometimes shorts and I wear sandals only at home or at the summer,” I answered feeling the interrogation in his voice, but am just thankful he’s playing good cop.
“Then nowhere on the legs like the ankles or the inside of the calf,” Milo muttered to himself. “How about the top? Do you sometimes wear tank tops or mostly just shirts, sweaters and jackets?”
“The occasional tank top at home or when it’s summer again,” I said.
“Not on the shoulder like Jordan then. Can’t do it inside the arm on the shoulder blades, you can’t always hide them from behind, even with your pretty long hair,” he told me, twirling a strand of my hair.
“Um, thanks?”
“You’re welcome,” he said, abruptly closing the book.
“What’s that?” I asked him.
“This?” He asked, referring to the book he was holding. “It’s The Tale of Two Cities, I’m reading it for class. I just wanted to finish the chapter I was in,” he explained as he tossed the book back on the counter.
He leaned against the counter and sighed. “Well then here are the best places for you,” he told me as he counted it off with his fingers that also had tattoos on them. “There’s at the back your neck, if you’re going to keep your long hair it’ll hide it for you. The hip is another place as well as the ribcage meaning your side. Then there’s always the bottom half of your back. And last are my two favorites, that pretty fine behind you have there and what you have in front of you,” he said, pointing at his chest area with a grin.
“The last part will have to be a no,” I said as he ignored the glares from the others.
He laughed. “I was kidding about the last part anyway. It’s just been a while someone had it there, it was worth a shot.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “Even if I keep my long hair, there’s always the chance it’ll be shown if I have it on a ponytail or bun, so that’s out.” I paused for a moment and then said, “I rather have it on the back than on the ribcage.”
“A perfect choice!” Milo said as he flattened one of the salon chairs back. “I want you to sit on this chair here backwards.”
“Okay,” I said as I did just that.
Milo took a seat on a small stool next to the salon chair. The guys stood close to him, not wanting to leave me alone for a second. He began to set up his equipment while whistling a tune, first assuring me everything is clean and sterilize of course. He put on gloves and then rectangular glasses before turning to me. Milo then placed a stencil on my back, showing a blue imprint of the fleur-de-lis on my back from the mirror.
“You ready Naomi?”
“Should I answer that?”
“Nah, it’s just a policy for me to ask it first. I don’t care if they answer it or not,” he said as he pushed his glasses up. “Now, let’s start.” I heard the needle whir to life.
I stared in front of me which the wall showed a poster on the mirror saying “don’t cry, at least not in front of the ladies” which made me snort. But then that got me thinking to ask Milo:
“How badly will it hurt?”
I saw from the mirror Milo stop the needle just as it was about to touch my skin. He turned to the guys.
“Please tell me she’s joking.”
They didn’t answer along with Declan with the phone being quiet.
He rolled his eyes and muttered something in which he later explained was Mandarin. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell her this. How can you have your friend go have a tattoo and not at least warn her how badly it’ll hurt?”
“I know it’ll hurt,” I told him, defending my friends. “I just don’t know how badly.”
“Well that depends,” Milo said. “Does this hurt?”
“Does what- Ow!” I exclaimed, practically jumping from the chair and massaged the spot the needle hit me.
“I’m going to take this as a yes.” Milo got up from his seat. “Well this changes a lot. If she has that kind of reaction for only one poke, how will she be able to go through the hours-long session for especially this tattoo which requires shading? There’s no way I’m going to sit through another session with someone crying their eyes out every poke I make-” he looked at me “from a grown man for hours.”
“Hours?” I repeated in disbelief.
“Hours,” Milo said again with emphasis.
“Well in our defense,” Jordan began.
Milo suddenly flicked Jordan on the forehead with his thumb and index finger.
“Ow!” Jordan whined, his hand going up to his forehead. “What did you do that for?”
“What did he do?” Declan asked in curiosity. “Did you hit him? Did I miss it?”
“You’re lucky you’re in the phone,” Milo told him, then he looked at it Bennett. “I won’t even bother with you, mostly because you’re intimidating, but you of all people should know this.”
Bennett shrugged. “I thought she could take it. And even if she couldn’t, then she wouldn’t want the tattoo anymore.”
I frowned. “But I do.”
“Tattoos hurt because the needles go up and down to push the ink below your skin. Even though it’s small, you still bleed, that’s why I have to constantly wipe the blood away.” Milo explained to me before muttering something else under his breath. “I don’t want that 16-year-old incident to happen again, with the infection-”
“Infection?” I repeated.
He ignored me. “Jordan, go get this girl some food, chocolate, ice cream, flowers, a stuffed animal, anything after the session to make her feel better. Bennett, since you have the most tattoos, you can stay with me.”
“Do as he says, I think we passed by a store on our way here. And while you’re at it, go check up on Declan.”
“I don’t need to get checked up on,” Declan whined.
“We promised you food right?” Bennett asked him, and before Declan could answer back he hung up on him. Declan should have been at least thankful for Bennett to be holding his phone for that long so Declan can talk to us.
“Give me some credit,” Jordan said with a wink. “You can trust me.” Then he quickly left out the building.
Milo looked at me. “Tattoos hurt, but those are the permanent ones. Temporary ones on the other hand don’t hurt so much. Your finger tattoo, I bet you can tolerate, it’s just your fleur-de-lis tattoo I’m worried about.”
“One that doesn’t hurt is alright, but I honestly want to keep the tattoo for… a long time.”
“After the 16-year-old kid infection incident I made the policy no hours-long tattoo sessions for anyone under 18. But since I know you guys, I made the acceptation with Naomi here. But the policy only implies permanent tattoos, I never said temporary tattoos.”
Bennett and Milo began to talk quietly to each other probably about my tattoo, leaving me out of the conversation. I found it ironic given I’ll be the one getting the tattoo here. They must have come up with a decision because Milo then sat back down at his chair and opened a second cabinet on the counter.
“I’m giving you a special tattoo,” Milo told me as he searched the drawer. “It’s temporary for a couple of weeks, but I can put something on it to make it last a month or two instead. Also, it won’t hurt as much. It’s called a henna.”
“A henna,” I repeated.
“It’s very beautiful, lots of girls have it. But I won’t guarantee how much it’ll hurt. It’s different for different people. All I can guarantee is that it hurts less than a real tattoo. Are you okay with that?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay with it.” I’ve been through worse, I doubt it could hurt that much. And in my defense, that permanent tattoo poke Milo gave me took me by surprise.
“Well good,” Milo said as he took out some kind of paper and rolled it up to look like a cone. “Don’t let this fool you, it still hurts. Now calm down for me.”
“How can you tell me to calm down after you told me, ‘it still hurts’,” I said in imitation of his voice.
“Fine then, have Bennett hold your hand.”
Bennett crossed his arms. “Really?”
“Aw c’mon, can’t you be there for her?”
I looked at Bennett. “Please Bennett, Milo’s scaring me.”
He flicked me on my forehead like he did with Jordan. “No, I’m not.”
He sighed. “Alright. Now stop giving me those Bambi eyes.”
“What Bambi eyes?” I asked as I gave him just that.
Bennett chuckled and took a small chair to then sit in front of me. He held out his hand to me and I took it.
“Okay, get ready Naomi.”
My hand tightened around Bennett’s who gave it an assuring squeeze. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down, knowing that Bennett is there with me. Then when I was mentally prepared for the sting, it happened.
Nothing.
Instead, I felt a small tickle on my back as if something was pasted on it, but that’s it. Then I heard snickering behind my back.
“Milo!
He was laughing now. “You should have seen the look on your face! Bennett, did you take the picture?”
“Yeah, I’m sending it to you now,” Bennett said as he clicked enter on his phone with his free hand.
“You traitors,” I grumbled, pressing the back of the chair on my forehead.
Milo had to pause from laughing before he went back to tattooing me. “Henna is a type of tattoo art in India, a temporary dye put on top of the skin which is a paste from the powder of these plants. They’re usually brown or orange-red, but don’t try to black henna, those are the dangerous one since it’ll give you bad reactions. Other than that, henna is safe, temporary and have I mentioned beautiful?”
“Yeah, at some point,” I muttered.
“Like I said, henna last for a couple of weeks. But I know a technique that’ll make it last a couple of months. You can come back once it’s faded away for another one to make it last more than it usually does.”
“Then why did you have Jordan leave?”
“Don’t you want food after sitting for a long time?” Milo asked me. “And I doubt he would mind, especially Declan getting his food. When you’re older so the policy won’t affect you and you don’t mind the sting as much, you can have a permanent tattoo of this,” Milo told me. “But you can still have a real tattoo on your finger if you want.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I still do.”
Milo was done with the henna tattoo for a couple of minutes. I got off the chair, stretched my legs then turned to see my tattoo at the mirror. It looked the guys’ fleur-de-lis tattoo only it was brown and Milo was able to put more swirls of it, making it look really beautiful. I was about to put down the back of my shirt when Milo stopped me.
“Don’t!” He suddenly yelled before explaining, “Henna is paste, so it’s different. The longer you leave it on, the darker the color will be and the longer it’ll last. If you want to make it last longer than it should be with a few months, you’re going to need to leave your shirt like that.”
I felt stupid having my shirt up from my back, but I let it go anyway, having Milo clip it up at the back. But then he felt bad for me because honestly, how I’m wearing the shirt was stupid.
“Y’know what, you look stupid wearing your shirt like that. Give me your shirt, I’m cutting it up from the back, and don’t worry, I’ll make it stylish,” he assured me with a wink.
As I hid from the other room, I watched as Milo had fun with my pretty loose shirt and a pair of scissors. He gave it back to me with the sleeves gone and an open back style. He helped me into it to avoid ruining the henna. Now it’s time for my finger tattoo. Not wanting to ruin my henna tattoo, I sat backwards on the chair once again and place my hand on a makeshift table.
I looked at Bennett. “Could you-“
“Alright,” he said, taking my hand to hold again.
“No, I meant can you scratch my back?” I said awkwardly. “It’s somewhere near the henna and I don’t want to accidentally mess up the paint.”
Bennett let go of my hand awkwardly. Milo snorted but didn’t say anything.
“But if you don’t mind either, could you hold my hand too?”
“Yeah sure,” Bennett said.
I changed my mind about him scratching my back now being awkward but he still held my hand. Milo then began to put on the tattoo on the inside of my right ring finger, just between the middle and ring finger. At first it stung but then I started to get used to it. When it was over I saw the proud tattoo of M to the fourth power on top of red skin. Cautiously, I touched it, having the pain remind me of a bad sunburn I once had because I forgot to put on sunscreen.
“Now if you want, you can hide the tattoo easily by either covering it with make-up, a band-aid or a ring,” Milo explained to me.
“I’d want a ring,” I said. “It’s the easiest for me since I’m a girl, make-up would be a hassle and a band-aid would raise questions with my parents if I wear it all the time.”
Milo smiled. “Alright then, I have a couple of rings for you over there-“ pointing at a glass case of rings “-take your time choosing one while I set up for Bennett’s tattoo.”
“You’re going to get another one?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “I might as well, Jordan won’t be back until an hour or so,” he said as he took off his shirt and sat backwards on the chair. “By then I’d want some ice cream, chocolate and flowers from him.”
I left to look at the glass counter filled with rings. There were many types of ring, all were thick enough to be able to hide a tattoo on the finger. I found this cool Lord of the Rings ring, but it was only for the type of finger tattoo that is thin enough and circles around your finger, so that’s out. But then I saw this nice leaf engraved silver ring that I like.
“That’s pretty cute,” Milo said. “You know what? For being so cute-” he said as I pinched my cheek “-I’ll give it to your for free. Besides I had it for a while and no one really wants it, they rather have the skull ones. I could even engrave it from the inside if you want. Do you have anything in mind?”
“Well… I do,” I said before mumbling him the three sentence scripture I wanted inside the ring.
He smiled. “Sure, that’s no problem. It’ll just swirl around the ring to fit.”
He had the machine set up writing the scripture inside the ring, telling me it’ll take a while to write it then let it cool off. So he went back to Bennett to give him his tattoo. Bennett took out his phone and showed Milo a picture.
“I want that on my left side this time,” he told him.
“Good thing I have a stencil of that,” Milo said as he looked through the pages of a binder of the tattoo.
When he did, he showed me it’s a pair of spiral wings connected together by a circle. I then watched as Milo first placed the whole stencil from the left shoulder blade of Bennett’s back down to his lower back. Then he began to tattoo Bennett, alternating inking him between pausing to blot down the blood during this. I glanced at Bennett who was wearing a neutral face the entire time when suddenly Bennett cringed.
“Sorry,” Milo told him before going back. Then he paused and whispered something into my ear.
“Why?”
“I’ll give you a present afterwards.”
“Is it food?”
“Sadly, no, but it’s just as fun.”
“Nothing can be more fun than food.”
“I know that, but c’mon, just do it.”
“Fine.”
I sat in front of Bennett and took his hand. Bennett looked at me weirdly, probably wondering what I was doing. I guessed right since he was about to ask it.
“What are you-“
He suddenly cringed and squeezed my hand when Milo did something.
“This is going to be a painful part of the tattoo. I would have Naomi keep holding your hand if I were you.”
Bennett glared at Milo from the mirror. “I bet you’re setting this- Hey!”
But Milo started to whistle, tuning Bennett out. It was awkward at first holding hands with Bennett, but we ended up playing clapping games like the game slide. Just when we were on a winning streak, Bennett messed up because Milo accidentally hurt him.
“Stop moving!” Milo said irritation from our game.
So we ended up having thumb war with each other until the tattoo was done. Bennett got up and studied his tattoo from the mirror and nodded in approval.
“It looks good.”
“That’s because it is good,” Milo said rolling his eyes.
Bennett chuckled. “Alright, it is good.”
He handed Milo the money for my tattoos and his which he pocketed right after. Then he went away to go get something. Bennett stared at his tattoo for a couple more minutes before putting his shirt back on.
“What made you want to get more tattoos?” I asked him.
“To make me look cooler.”
“C’mon, tell me the truth.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment until he said, “To piss of my dad. That’s why I also got earrings here,” Bennett said, tucking his hair behind his ear to show his earring before hiding it again.
Before I could say anything, Milo came back.
“For being such a good sport, you earn this-” he suddenly popped a lollipop into my mouth, strawberry flavored, and handed me pieces of paper. “And besides the written instructions on how to make the henna last longer, the other papers are customized stick-on tattoos of the fleur-de-lis. If the henna ever fades or you want the tattoo somewhere else, they’re there for you in either the same size or something smaller.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“Oh c’mon, I deserve more than that. Give me a hug.”
“Alright-” He cut me off by pulling me into a hug.
We heard a chime of the door with Jordan arguing with Declan on the phone.
“I want food!” Declan yelled at him. “Not any of this microwave crap!”
“It is food!” Jordan snapped. “Well… after a couple of minutes.” He turned to us with a big grin. “I come bearing gifts,” Jordan announced, carrying Neapolitan ice cream, chocolate, and a stuffed unicorn.
“If you were going to the store, why couldn’t you buy anything good food for me?”
“Just because,” Jordan said.
“Just because what?”
“I don’t like you.”
Then Jordan put the phone off speaker, but you can still hear small yelling from the phone.
“Thanks,” Bennett said as he got the chocolate from him.
I showed him my henna tattoo, which Milo had to swat Jordan’s hand away before he could touch it.
“What does it look like? Did it hurt you Naomi? I’ll kill him if it did!” Declan threatened.
“That’s some talk coming from someone on the phone,” Milo told him with a laugh.
We were about to leave when Milo stopped me.
“Don’t forget your ring,” he reminded me as he dropped it on my hand. “I don’t get why you wanted the words to be that, but it’s your choice.”
“You don’t have to get it,” I told him. “It’s… a fleur-de-lis club thing.”
In the inside of the ring, it said:
Unus pro omnibus, omnes pro uno
I’MMM BAAAAAACK!
I know, I know, two weeks is too long. I just got my internet back after changing to AT&T, so everything’s A-OK. But if you’re still mad for leaving you for so long, I was sick during that time. Then I got better.
And then I got sick again.
I didn’t know it was possible to get sick twice. My friend accidentally coughed on me and assured me you can’t get sick twice, but guess what? I DID. And to those who’ve I haven’t replied in messages in my inbox, I will tomorrow. It’s late where I am and I had a long day. I got the awesome Fall Out Boy song, Centuries, I love the chorus and the “da da, ta da da da…” part of the song, hope you guys like it.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Milo was a surprise character, but he was really fun to make up. His appearance actually was inspired by this anime/ manga character called Uta in Tokyo Ghoul. It’s not usually the type of thing I’d read (I usually read the manga rather than watch the anime) since it’s pretty bloody and all, but my friend recommended it to me, and the pictures on Google looked cool, so I started reading it. A bit of Bennomi action for you guys. But honestly, my favorite part was the last part. I was sad to leave Declan out of the chapter in person… or in book… or in book-person? So I just had him be there on phone instead. There has to be some reality in this fiction, and you can’t take a person who’ve just been shot on a road trip.
At first I wanted Naomi to SUFFAH (Okay, not really) when getting the tattoo, but then I started imagining angry parents telling me why my book made their kids want and later get tattoos. And all I want to say, don’t blame my book, your kids wanted a tattoo long before they read the book, so don’t use me as an excuse to blame someone. But whatever, I just changed it to it being a henna- Shamu, if you’re reading this which you better since I’m dedicating it to you, the henna was inspired by you since you wore it once. I had to research A LOT about tattoos, like I have a whole folder of it in tattoo bookmarks. I’m telling you this now, get a tattoo when you’re older, don’t hide it from your parents, blah, blah, blah. I told my mom I want a tattoo, but when I’m older, and she’s cool with it. Once a friend asked me if I would ever get a tattoo and my answer was this:
“Yeah!” I said as if I was a little kid being asked if I wanted ice cream. Then I started saying, “I want one here and here and here, here, here and here.” Like behind my neck, on my back, on my shoulder, on my wrist, middle of fingers, at forearm, neck, behind ear, and ankle and it have quotes, cute stuff, and I want one of the fleur-de-lis and M to the second power of 0, because I’m the unofficial number zero Musketeer. Do you know that TV show, Kids Next Door with a Number Zero being Number One’s dad? Yeah, it’ll be like that. And hey! Don’t get the tattoo idea from me, it’s mine, copyrighted and all that stuff.
Enough about me, onward to the next chapter! Oh wait, it isn’t here yet, sorry…
RubixCube89201