Pretty lies

two- fake smiles

Isadora Rose:

"You show up late one more time and I swear to god you're out of here! You hear me?" My boss, Frankie, has been scolding me for the past 10 minutes and I have been present for like 2 of those minutes.

I love Frankie, I do. He is a very special friend of mine but he is very serious when it comes to his business. We had a thing a couple years ago but that's what it was. It wasn't a relationship or even a link up. It was a thing.

We're past it.

I have been working for him since I was 19. One night, I was in a bar asking around to find a place to stay since I had only just got full custody of the kids and was in a new state.

It seemed hopeless until I met Frankie. He offered me a cigarette and the rest is history.

I'm not the only person who works here. My best friend ,Silvia, joined just before I did. She introduced me to her friend ,Amaya, and we have been inseparable every since.

Apparently a new guy joined a couple of weeks ago but he works when I don't. Frankie told us his name was Lenny and was a private man. He gets private bookings and stuff.

Who the fuck asks to have the whole place to themselves for a tattoo?

"Hola mami," I hear a sweet voice call to me, "you look gorgeous."

"Hey Vi, has my client come in yet?"

"The Clarkson one?" I hate him. I hesitantly nod in response.

"He called and said he's going to be like an hour late or something." We hate him.

"Oh my god he is always fucking late." I say groaning as I plop onto the couch in Silvia's room.

"I did ask if he wanted to reschedule but he insisted that it would be fine."

"I'd rather lick a cheese grater than wait around for him like a lost puppy." She giggles at my bluntness.

I hear a rustling in front of me as Silvia reaches for something I her bag.

"Solo told me to give these to you." She says as she hands my a small bag of heaven. I see the concern in her eyes and hesitation in her movement as she passes me the bag.

"Tell him I'm not his mule though. You know I don't like this stuff, Isa. People die from this shit."

"Yeah well it helps me live."

I work two jobs back to back for three children under the age of eighteen before I even get to help myself. The least I deserve is something to get high off of.

"If your abuela knew what you were doing, she would slap you across the face and call you 'pendejo'." I hear the comedy in her tone but I know deeply she hates this. She hates the person I have become. So do I.

"Well, then let's thank god that she doesn't know." I get up from my seat and make my way out.

My room is pristine compared to Silvia's. Everything has a place and it stays that way. I can't control many things in my life but I can control the appearance of my studio.

Now for my favourite part ; sketching. My client's lateness makes up for the fact that I forgot to sketch out his tattoo. He gave me three words for inspiration: badass, minimalistic and unique.

He is a very indecisive man so I design a few options for him. I don't really know what the thought process was behind his words of inspiration.

What person asks for a 'badass' when they drive a prias?