I Hate You More

You Smoke Or What?

Harlen

It's been about three weeks since Remington left me outside of the tattoo parlor, and I was still feeling like shit. I mean, yeah he had a stick up his ass, and was constantly a pain in mine but, I guess I could've been...a little nicer I guess. Don't tell him I said that though.

"Earth to Harls," Jamie's chuckle, brought me out of my thoughts, and plastered a smile to my face, "what's got you so out of it?"

"Nothing," I lied, "I'm just- didn't get much sleep last night so, I'm tired."

"Ok," She smiled sympathetically, "I have about 45 minutes until my next client comes in. Do you want to go grab a coffee?"

Renee looked to us, after wiping her client's arm, "Can you grab me an Iced Caramel Coffee?"

"I can just go pick some up for everyone. Just text me what you all want."

"Are you sure? I wanted to go with you to chat." Jamie said in a comforting tone.

I loved Jamie. I loved all three of the girls I worked with. We'd been friends since Phoebe and I were in seventh grade. They were always there for me, and I appreciated that more than anything but, right now all I needed was some time alone.

"Thanks," I smiled weakly, praying that she couldn't see through it. I have know idea what was wrong with me. I was sure that I hated Remington's guts but, it really hurt that I pushed someone else away, "I just need some fresh air."

These lies were leaving my lips far easier than they should've been. All I wanted to do was dig a hole and bury myself in it. For years, I'd thought that death would be the only way things would ever get easier and it was extremely difficult to keep that feeling from growing stronger.

"Ok." Jamie nodded. I guess she bought my bullshit. Yay me.

I silently turned around, and used all of my strength to open the shop door. It wasn't that heavy, I promise but, I felt like shit. Not just mentally either.

"Sorry." I mumbled to the random woman I had run into on the way in to the Starbucks. I don't think she accepted my apology, due to the dirty glare she sent me.

Fuck you too lady. Fuck you too.

"Hey Harlen," The barista, Sarah smiled at me as I approached the counter, "are you having your usual today?"

Of course she knew what I wanted. The Starbucks I was in, is in the same plaza as Ink Assassin, so I went there all of the time, and I got the same thing every time. I know, I'm so mysterious.

"Yes a grande iced coffee with two pumps of vanilla, no milk, and three sugars please but, no pumpkin bread, and then I also need a," I paused to look at my phone, "a grande iced mocha latte with almond milk, a grande iced caramel coffee with no milk, and a grande black coffee. Oh, and that one's hot, with one sugar."

Sarah typed my order into the touch screen in front of her, and took my card after she told me my total.

"I'll let you know when that's ready." Sarah beamed.

I wish that I could do what she does. She seems so effortlessly happy, and even if there was shit going on, she didn't let it effect how she treated anyone else. It was truly beautiful that she could give kindness, so unconditionally, and to a stranger nevertheless. I wondered if she struggled the way I would. If it was hard for her to remember to take a second, and realize that just because someone was an asshole, didn't mean they didn't have something going on.

"Ok," I nodded, "thank you."

After I got my card back, I walked to a nearby table and sat down, before pulling my sketchbook out. A man called me last night, asking for me to design a tattoo for him. Our consultation was over the phone and, all he told me was that he wanted something that stood for hope, and for fighting for what you want. Unfortunately, I knew jack shit about hope but, I figured I could give it a shot. Well, until I looked up from my sketch pad and saw Remington standing in line for...whatever the hell he wanted. I swiftly pushed my pad, back into my bag and got up before swinging said bag, over my shoulder.