The Players Club

twenty three.

The sound of the buzzing and the loud music combating it was all that Sean tried to focus on as a needle dug into his skin multiple times. Despite the fact that he had tattoos running down his arms, he still didn't get used to the nagging feeling.

"You taking this like a champ!" The tattoo artist exclaimed.

Sean shook his head and watched as he glided slowly along his forearm. He had a bit of space left on his right arm and decided to get a customized butterfly with his mothers name along it. His mother loved flowers. He had many tattoos that were inspired from his parents- specifically his mother. She hated it.

She didn't mind her boys having a few tattoos. Sean's older brother had at least six tattoos. Sean was pushing it. His mother lost count of how many tattoos he had. And the tattoo he was getting at this very moment wasn't going to be his last time.

He was very into art and expressing himself. He didn't talk often just because he didn't want to. No one really understood him anyway. But, he was able to express himself through his tattoos. All the pain, the joy and the comfort was drawn all over him.

He didn't think he would regret any of them when he got older- except for the spider on his left forearm. That was his first tattoo and he'd gotten it done in someone's basement. He was definitely getting it removed.

"You're almost done."

Thank god. He thought to himself.

After twenty minutes, all the shading was finally done. He'd been sitting in the seat for about two and a half hours. He technically was only supposed to be in the chair for two hours, but the artist was a perfectionist. And, he had no problem with that.

"Thank you, man."

He ran his hand over the tattoo that was wrapped up and stood up from the chair. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the exact amount in cash. He worked overtime for this.

"Bet. See you again in a few weeks."

"Yeah."

He wasn't getting his own tattoo, but his friends were coming in for some. They weren't completely tattooed like him, but they wanted to have a few.

The breeze almost knocked him down as he swiftly opened the front door. He grabbed his bike that was locked onto the near pole and quickly made his way. He crossed the street and went through a short cut towards his neighbourhood.

"Yo, Sean!" A friend of his yelled out from outside of their house.

"You good?" Sean yelled out and proceeded to head home.

He knew basically everyone on this side of town, and everyone knew him. They knew him as Jennifer's son, the kid who never stayed inside, the nice boy that helped all the elderly and the people in need, the boy who would always fall asleep at church, but came almost every Sunday. The kid whose brother almost got stabbed to death in the upper town.

They would never live that down and he wouldn't either.

Although his brother was doing just fine and and moved on with his life, Sean still held that grudge for him. He witnessed how hard it was for his brother to get back on his feet. How scared his brother would be to even go outside. The therapy that Jared had to go through. Thank God, his father had it covered, because it was a lot of sessions.

That was a traumatic moment for them both.

He threw his bike to the side near the garage and headed up the steps of the porch. His mother sat in front of him with a book in her hand and a glass of wine. Her curls were tossed into a high bun, revealing her beautiful face. Her light brown skin glistened in the light. The only signs that gave away that she was in her mid 40s was the lines appearing near her forehead.