Everything in my life goes wrong. Everything. But, when I'm with my friends, I feel happy. They don't care if I mess up, they'll support me either way. I try to keep a happy face for them, but most of the time, when they're not by me, my face falls...
"C'mon Sid, you have to braid my hair," I say. I don't have my skirt on, but I have my modesty shorts on and no shirt. I put on my shirt before he reaches me and hold my skirt, seeing a note on it.
"Nice... whatever those are," he says, making me laugh. I take the note off of the skirt and put it on, feeling Sid start braiding my hair.
"Modesty shorts. I don't want something to happen that'll leave me blushing," I say.
"That's for sure," he agrees. He's become my braider because he wanted to braid my hair every day to get faster at it. It's working so far.
"So," Joey starts, standing in front of me.
"Yes," I ask.
"I heard you got another tattoo a couple days ago. Show me," he says.
"You sure? It's on my inner bicep," I say. He takes my arm and pushes my shirt sleeve to see my new tattoo. It's the saying 'Memento Mori' in a circle with a skull in the middle of the circle, the jaw a little open to give it that little ascetic pop.
"Memento Mori? Like Remember Death? I didn't know you were going to get this," he says.
He was ranting to me three days ago about a sudden surge of death in his mind and he suggested getting a death-related tattoo. I took him up on it and now it's on my bicep.
"What about my suggestion," Sid asks. He ties the braid and lets it fall, letting me move it.
"Pull up the back of my shirt and you can see it," I say. He pulls my shirt up and pauses, admiring the tattoo.
"It's prettier on skin than on metal," he says. He puts my shirt back and I put on my jacket, covering my ILY tattoo that's in the cold shoulder.
"That one actually hurt a little. But it was probably that it was right over my central nerves and spine and the artist was pretty shady about the ink," I say.
"How many did you get," Paul asks.
"Those two," I lie. I got 4 new tattoos; 2 they didn't see yet.
"Liz, we know you and your mind says that's not true. How any did you actually get," Corey asks.
"Fine. I got 4. 2 you haven't seen yet," I say.
"I'm guessing you want to see them from how you're all staring at me," I say, not looking at them. I put my phone in my pocket and turn to them, seeing their eyes on me.
"You guessed correctly," Joey says.
I roll my eyes and lift my skirt a little, showing one of my new tattoos. It's a galaxy alien head with the words 'Stay Weird' under it in bold all-caps letters. I put my skirt back and take off my jacket, showing my other tattoo. It's a purple ribbon meant for Domestic Violence with the date Arron got arrested under it.
I put my jacket back on and the bus stops, the guys basically scrambling to get ready. I on the other hand put the paint on my lips and a smoky eye on my eyelids, deciding not to put in any contacts because I heard I'm meeting someone today before the show. Jim's meeting them too, and I hear they brought their son too. But before that, we're having a signing that I need to do.
"You guys are so slow sometimes," I say as I walk past them. I step off the bus but before I could get to the ground, Jim picks me up and puts me on his back.
"Ooh, free ride," I say as he walks to the signing.
"Don't get used to it," he says.
I get dropped at my seat and he sits in his, leaving me with Corey. I sit down and cross my legs, adjusting my skirt so I'm not sitting on it. I already had my mask on, so I was good. The people flood in and I get to signing, getting just as many presents as before.
-after signing-
"Ready," I ask Jim.
"Always," he replies, making me roll my eyes. We walk to the two and the dad turns around, making me pause. He's Max Weinberg.
"Afternoon," he says to us.
"This is my son Jay," he continues, putting a hand on Jay's shoulder. He's dressed in the Self-Titled Corey, paint and all. He looks up at me and his eyes slightly widen, making me smile.
"Afternoon Jay. I like the mask, did you make it yourself," I ask.
"Y-yeah," he stutters. He has an obvious crush on me. How cute.
"You have skill. Me on the other hand, not much," I say, gesturing to my mask.
"I think it's cool," he says.
---time skip---
The guys have to go out, and Max has to call a few people. So that leaves me to look after Jay. I take a seat on the floor and gesture next to me, Jay taking it and sitting stiffly.
"Hey, can I trust you with something," I ask.
"Depends on what it is," he says.
"I want you to hold onto this until... I dunno, 2014. Yeah, 2014," I say. I get my lighter out and hold it out for him to take. He takes it and examines it, flipping it in his hands a few times.
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"Now that lighter is over 90 years old. That lighter came from my, hmm, great, maybe great great, grandpa straight from Germany. That lighter was in the trenches fighting against the country written on it in World War 1. I'm trusting you and only you with that lighter," I say, seeing fear in Jay's eyes.
"How do I..."
He tries lighting it, but can't because his thumb's a little too weak. I put out my hand and I flip the top up, lighting it. Jay stares at the steady flame in awe.
"You'll get the hang of it. It takes a few times to strengthen the ability, but you can do it," I say.
I hand it back and he tries it, not succeeding. He tries again and it sparks, but no flame. he tries a third time and it comes to life, the flame steady.
"I want you to keep that in whatever pocket you have on you to keep it safe. Always either the coin pocket if it fits or the front pocket of your dominant hand," I say.
