Pretty lies

fourteen- floating dicks

Isadora Rose:

My next client is going to be a tricky one. He used to be Silvia's until he decided that she was too 'sloppy'. I have seen all of the tattoos she has done for him and they are fucking rad.

His name is Brad, which I think is quite fitting, and he is twenty two. This man acts like he has been around since the First World War. He's the type of guy to say 'kids these days' when talking about his own age group.

His appointment is in five and I honestly can't cope.

"How you doin' gorgeous?" Frankie asks from behind the counter.

"My day has been going so well. Why does it have to be ruined?" I groan into his shoulder.

"Who you got now?"

"Brad Henderson."

"He is a bleh guy." I love that he carries on the joke we made to piss him off. It's quite ironic.

"Totally." Silvia chimes in.

"At least he's not mine to tolerate anymore." She adds with a cocky look on her face. With that Mr Bleh walks into the studio.

I mouth 'fuck you' to Silvia and she simply waves at me.

"Hello Mr Henderson, how are we today?" I try to be as polite as can be.

"It's just me." Yeah no shit Sherlock.

"I know."

"Then why would you say we?" He questions like the dumb bitch he is.

"Don't you worry about that. Why don't you just follow me into the studio." I try to smooth out the obvious tension in the room.

I sit down on my swivel chair and he awkwardly perches on the tattoo chair.

"Would you like to sit on the couch instead? It's way more comfy." I urge for him to move out of my personal space ,at least for a few minutes.

"Okay." He gets up and moves over onto the edge of the couch. Not even the edge, this fucker decides to sit on the arm of an empty couch. I'm not even going to engage in that conversation.

"So, you were wanting to finish off your sleeve today, right?"

"I already told you over the phone." He states in a monotone voice. Dude just give me something here.

"I just wanted to clarify." I mutter under my breath.

"What kind of vibes are we going for with the rest of the sleeve? Like maybe dark and mysterious or more sentimental and soft looking."

"Just keep it like the rest." This is worse than Mr Clarkson and he is basically a pervert.

An hour and a half later:

I am almost done with the sleeve and it is looking really cool. It's one of my favourite sleeves I have ever done and I have done a shit ton.

The price of this tattoo is a big one but for what I've done and spent my time doing, it's really good. Brad was shocked when I told him how much. What did he expect? A fucking discount.

He has been a total dick for this whole appointment and has been exactly the same for his other ones. Plus I'm still not over how he treated Silvia. As these thought flood my mind, another pops into my head.

A smug look spreads across my face, I can feel it. I find a small gap in between all of the intricate designs and there it goes.

I tattooed a tiny dick on his arm to remind him not to be one. It's probably bigger than his.