Chapter Three

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I am now fully settled in having found my way around to life back in Santa Carla. The past month I have slowly made my room mine once again. The frame is the same only the fairy lights are replaced with new ones that actually work.  Two nightstands both black with neon green skulls all over them. One holding my medication and sleep stuff the other having random junk. I also finally have a desk that also acted as a makeshift vanity. The mirror that hung above has a black frame with some lights hot glued along the edges. The desk was black with the top having a leopard print design and the chair was a rolling one with a leopard print blanket on the back. My dresser was replaced by a big wardrobe which I painted black to match the nightstands. I also have a lamp in the corner of the room which I made myself using a prosthetic leg, an old tall lamp, and a leopard print lampshade. It was over by my makeshift reading nook where a hanging chair stayed along with a large corner shelf. When I switched to a wardrobe I was able to uncover the doors to the patio. I made sure to keep it up to my stepdad's standards. I used black curtains to cover the doors when I didn't want to go out. My bedding was now black with satin sheets and pillows. I'm not done with the room but it has only been a month. Using any tips and the money Steve didn't take to make it all done up. 

With Steve still not believing how much I make was now a blessing. I am rarely around him especially after we got into a fight and my mom tried to stop it from happening ending up with a broken arm. Begging me not to tell the truth to anyone and also feeling guilty I tend to stay in my room when I'm home. If I'm not at home I'm at work which was more bearable. Tyler was an asshole always having some shit to say under his breath. He mostly kept to himself so I do the same. It also doesn't help that no matter where I'm at the group of bikers seem to linger. Every night they were out on the boardwalk doing whatever they wanted as if they owned the place. I try to stay as far as I can they just leaked trouble. Somehow though they are always there. I get off work and they are at a store not too far away leaving as well. Getting gas well guess who just so happens to be getting gas too. I'm sure other people have the same kind of routine as me having recognized other people but they stood out like a sore thumb. The only real peace I seem to get is on Wednesdays when I go to the Shack for DND and band practice. 

We were rocky at the start having to refind our groove and style but once we did we didn't sound half bad. Again it's only for fun so we never take it seriously. If someone misses a note or Josh and I have voice cracking or sing misheard lyrics we just laugh it off. I also have my room at the shop just how I want it. I bought a CD player along with a CD book for people to choose from. Most of it is stuff I like but since not everyone shares my taste I also have other music. I also have a mini fridge where I offer free drinks. I offer soda, sweet tea, and water. I got a snack basket on top of it again free to those who need it. This is handy for people who don't take tattoos very well and have blood sugar problems. I find this tends to get me good tips which I use to buy more snacks. Setting up my area getting ready for my shift soothing through my CD book.

 I hear the bell alerting us we have a client looking to get something done. I didn't have any appointments for another couple of hours so unless Tyler gets to the counter first I am free. Sadly I didn't make it hearing him talking to whoever it was. "RORY" he shouted which was startling. I peek out and instantly get annoyed. Standing at the front talking to Tyler was the biker gang. I shake off whatever thoughts I have and make my way over. "This is David he is specially requesting you for his tattoo" the jealousy seeping out in his voice. 

"shouldn't a tattoo artist have tattoos" he questions getting a kick out of this. I lift my sleeve showing him my bat wrapped around my right wrist. "That's it" 

"no I have a bunch, I just so happen to be a lady who dresses modestly" I lean against the counter "Do you want a tattoo or not" I had to put on a tough face the last time we met I was too nervous. Drumming the counter standing up turning to his friends saying something. The other three leave and he turns back. "good what ya thinkin' on getting" 

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