I'm sitting at the Café again, and lo and behold Odette comes back in, cheerful self and all.
“Hey! It’s Writer! How are you chic?” She asks me, taking a seat next to me.
“I'm well, and how are you, my swan resembling friend?” I ask her.
“Hey, you said I didn’t remind you of a swan!” She jokes and knocks me slightly.
“Oh I'm just pulling your leg.” I say with a smile.
“Jesus, sometimes I forget just how British you are.” She tells me with a smile.
“I’ve heard about how British I am from everyone I’ve meet here. Are we really that rare?” I ask, honestly curious.
“Well, no. But the British people I’ve met have been in New York long enough to drop their slang.” She tells me, and I nod and take a sip of my tea.
“I mean, just look at you, you’re drinking tea for God’s sake!” She motions towards me with a laugh.
“Well I suppose you’re going to order a coffee and drench it in cream and sugar, like a true American?” I ask her, reversing her own logic on her. She looks at me for a moment before her face changes to a look of recognition.
“I see what you did there.” She says, and I giggle slightly. “Oh whatever, Writer. How has your stay in New York been so far?” She asks me.
“It’s been… lonely.” I say, after thinking for a moment.
“Why so?” She asks, giving me a look.
“I don’t really know anyone other than you and my publisher. I have no way to get into contact with my best friend, and I'm not really social.” I say, rambling. She’s probably the first person I’ve talked to in two days.
“Would you say you have a lonely heart?” She asks me, and the question takes me a bit by surprise.
“Well,” I start and actually think about it, I believe so, “I guess.” At that, Odette jumps up and grabs my hand.
“Come with me.” She says and I throw a couple of dollars on the bar to pay for my tea, grab my notebook, and allow Odette to lead me out of the café. She rushes down the street, dragging me along with her.
“Where are we headed?” I ask her.
“You’ll see!” She says with a giggle. We rush down a couple blocks, take a few turns, and end up in front of a hardcore looking tattoo parlor.
“A tattoo parlor?!” I ask with surprise.
“Trust me.” She says and pulls me inside. I see a flash of something I never noticed on her wrist. She has a tattoo on her wrist. I guess I'm only noticing it now because of the scary thought of being in a tattoo parlor. Odette marches straight up to the counter, taking me with her.
“Seymour!” She calls, and a tough looking man comes up from behind a curtain.
“Hey Odette, another one?” Seymour asks, eyeing me.
“Of course, let’s set her up.”
“No.” I say, interjecting. “I really don’t want a tattoo, it’s okay.” Both the receptionist and Odette give me a look, and then break out laughing. I instantly feel my cheeks heat up, but I say nothing as I wait for them to get their laugh out.
“We’re not getting you a tattoo, silly.” Odette says between laughs. “Seymour here holds onto all of our club mementos. And by setting you up, we’re simply starting your membership.” Odette finishes, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Membership…?” I question, still not fully understanding.
“You know, to the Lonely Hearts Club. We’re just going to give you the schedule for meetings, the honorary bracelet, and member statement.” Odette informs me while being handed a packet from Seymour.
“Member statement?” I question, taking the packet from her.
“Oh you know, just the rules of our club, the ideals and our meeting schedule for this upcoming month.” Odette says while flashing me an almost blinding smile.
“How many of these do you keep on hand?” I ask Seymour.
“Only two.” Seymour answers with a smile. “I know you don’t want a tattoo, but while you’re here… You might as well get one.” He says like a true sales person. My immediate reaction is no, but the more I'm thinking about it… It might not be so bad that I get a tattoo. But it has to mean something to me, I can’t just get one for nothing.
“Okay,” I say with a shrug. Odette looks flabbergasted.
“Okay?! You’re going to get a tattoo?!” She asks, pure excitement written on her face. In reply, I simply shrug. Odette squeals and Seymour calls on a tattoo artist from the back to take me to their station and pick out my tattoo. A gorgeous women with long black hair and tattoo’s blanketing each arm comes and takes Odette and I behind a curtain and to her station. I think I’ve figured out what I want, and what will be the most meaningful to me.
“So, what will it be, Hun?” The artist, whose name is Raven, asks me.
“I want quotation marks, one on each wrist. The opening mark on the left and the closing on the right.” I say, drawing what I mean on a sheet of paper Raven has handed me.
“I like it, it’s very you.” Odette compliments.
“So, we’re agreed? The quotation marks?” Raven asks with a thick, New Jersey accent. I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I might back out if I open my mouth.
* * *
“So, you happy?” Odette asks, referring down to my bandaged wrists as we walk out of the tattoo parlor.
“Considerably.” I say, peering down at my wrists, wishing I could show Ed. Ed loves tattoos.
“Something on your mind?”
“Hmm?” I ask
“Is something on your mind? You sighed all sad like.” Odette says.
“Oh, I was just thinking about how I wish I could show Ed.” I state sadly.
“You really miss him, don’t you?” She asks with compassion, I simply nod. In response, she grabs my hand and starts to pull me quickly down the street.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to go have fun.”
YOU ARE READING
Dear Delilah
FanfictionThere was once a writer named Delilah who stage managed for the lovely ginger, Ed Sheeran. The rest,isn't known to much of the general public. Let's just say her story has been unwritten, until now.
