Dive into me

Chapter 1

It was late, just a little before 3am. Behind the glass doors, multicolored club lights blurred with the foreboding halo of police sirens, melting into a psychedelic puddle sloshing against the fogged up windows. Strange shadows danced within, lone walkers and large groups of drunken friends passing by in shapeless tangles of limbs that reminded Levi of the shark exhibit at his local aquarium. It had been a while since he had visited, perhaps he should consider going again.

He gently shook the plastic cup loosely hanging from between his fingers, a current of leftover cold brew sending melting ice cubes twirling around the bright green straw like maypole dancers, before taking a long sip. His eyes never left the door. He was bent over the reception counter in his usual feline elegance, waiting for some poor soul to linger a little too long, to give into the temptation to decorate their bodies with some kind of proof that they'd had a good time, that they could be fun if they wanted to, pretending like they wouldn't have much rather stayed home.

Say what you may about the ethics of tattooing people who, in their gloriously inebriated state, rarely retained the ability to enter the studio without some assistance, but to Levi it remained an endless source of entertainment. And how could he deny himself such pleasures?

« Ah, we have a catch. » Hange says, hopeful excitement slipping through the forced disinterest of their tone. They sat near their station, arms dangling at their side and chin lifting abruptly from where it had been resting on the back of their chair - why they insisted on sitting like a child, he would never understand - to get a better look at a couple outside.

Levi's gaze follow theirs, abandoning the mind-numbing emptiness of his Twitter feed for the hesitant curiosity on young faces. Two girls, raising their intertwined hands to point at various pictures he had taped into a meticulous display just a few days prior, expressions flickering between fear, excitement, and disinterest as they talked. One of them gasped, slamming a manicured finger against the window hard enough to make the glass rattle, making the other drag her back a few steps as she continue to point and exclaim whatever nonsense she thought would convince her girlfriend to let her get it. To his dismay, it had not been his work that had caught their eyes, and his interest quickly faded.

« They won't come in. They're too sober. » He answers finally, wrapping thin lips around the straw and watching the coffee slowly climb to him as he sucks. The more reasonable of the two girls gives a definitive shake of her head and cuts the other off when she tries to argue, luring her away from the window with promises that they will come back tomorrow if she still wants the tattoo. They will not come back.

« How do you always fucking know? » The brunet asks in an exasperated gasp, pushing and pulling against their feet, rolling the chair back and forth over the scratched hardwood floors.

Levi shrugs, for he isn't entirely certain he has an answer.

« How do you not know? » He chooses to say, too bored and too tired to conjure up one of his usual sharp, witty retorts. It is Hange's turn to shrug, dropping their head back down to press their forehead against the backrest with a heavy sigh.

The beginning of the night was always a nightmare, the steady flow of customers only starting after the clubs had closed and kebabs had been consumed, for both courage and the certainty of having something solid to vomit should the pain be too much. But before then, time hung in the still air, absentmindedly humming along the same old playlist Farlan had blared through the worn speaker - Levi was sure - since the studio first opened, strolling between the stations and drowning in Hange's endless rants before remembering that a minute was supposed to tick by. On the dark and rainy nights only found in the deepest corners of winter, they had no choice but to cover the face of the clock with scarves or whatever scrap pieces of fabric they could find - Hange had phases of experimenting with sewing, convinced they could save money and just make their own clothes - sealed into place by thick layers of shiny tape. In the morning, when the rush was over and they suddenly realized the day had begun to creep over the tall buildings that suffocated the narrow street, they hurriedly ripped it all off with panicked hands and poorly aimed scissors before the owner could see it. Farlan could not stand them doing this. You're going to scare away my customers, he would say, You lot already look like psychopaths, what's everyone gonna think when they come in and we have random bits of furniture taped over? Fucking morons. So, they did it sneakily instead. Once you have checked the clock five times within the same minute, you need to do whatever it takes to avoid the temptation of a wondering gaze, to protect yourself from going insane night after night between the same four walls, until people finally start coming in.