Must Be 18 Or Over To Enter//Golden Boy

C.E

"Hey, it's nice to finally meet you in person." I shook the hand of a tattoo artist.

"Heard about me?" I laughed.

"Only when Oliver called to see if I had a spot open. Edwards, right?"

"Yeah." Ryan Ashley Malarkey, temporarily working in London, made a little room in her busy schedule to give me my first tattoo: a tiny black retro looking robot, with C.E printed on the door of his chest. Christopher Edwards - my brother. He used to draw robots and planes and ships whenever he got upset, even until the end. "It's really cool to meet you. I love your work."

"Thanks, she smiled. Oliver was getting his palm touched up by another artist in the shop, simply because it was convenient, and left me with Ashley. "So where am I doing this." I pointed to my calf on the side, just above my ankle. I sat down in her chair and after applying the stencil, the actual tattoo took about half an hour. And it hurt like a bitch.

"Oh my god." I looked down at the small, only five inch tall robot on my leg. It was perfect.

"You like it?"

"I love it." I looked up at her.

"I'm glad." She smiled. We hugged and I went to see Oliver.

"Done already?" He asked, only half of his done. The small place had plain burgundy walls and all black everything else. There was a bookshelf in every 'office' area full of tattoo magazines and classic novels.

"Yup." I smiled, my skin still stinging. I sat in a small chair in the waiting area and went on my phone. It had been a week since I went sight seeing with AA, and they'd long since gone home. I hated to see them go, as I was having so much fun with everyone. Melissa didn't cool off. Denis said she wasn't normally an aggressive person at all, and that next time we saw each other things would be better. The only thing I really thought about from that was they wanted to see me again. I was nearly run off my feet, busy with phone calls and lunches and photo shoots every day - on my way to one directly after the tattoo. I was tired as hell every night, but loved it. Oliver said things would slow down once I got into a proper routine, with an agent and what not, but I almost didn't want it to. I was enjoying always having something to do. The only downside was the more things I agreed to, the less time I had to spend with Oliver.

"Done." He appeared in front of me, his hand wrapped up just as his ankle was. "Let's go." By the time we got home after my lunch meeting, I was already thinking about other tattoo ideas. "Can I ask about the robot?"

"My brother." I said softly. "Christopher."

"C E. Christopher Edwards?"

"Mmhmm." I took another sip of my coffee as I wrote down another idea in my notebook - things to draw. I'd been working on a single piece since I moved, more than two months, and it was nowhere near perfect. It had to be perfect for him. "What's your favourite colour."

"That's such a terrible subject change."

"Such a simple question-"

"A trivial question." Oliver said sternly, but gentle. I sighed.

"And?"

"Am I ever going to hear about him? Your brother." I closed my book.

"It doesn't matter, Oliver."

"Yes, it does. I told you about Ella-"

"No." I said louder than I intended. "That's not the same thing. On any level. Not a single one."

"Why can't you tell me, Kyile?" I slammed my book and pen on the coffee table.

"Because he's mine! He's mine. Not Denis', or Ben's. Or Moose's, Or Ally's. Not my mom's, and not my dad's. Not yours. He's my memory."

"Not your families? He was their child wasn't he?"

"Is!" A tear slid down my cheek as I blinked the rest away. "He is, their child. But they pretend he never existed. Every picture of him. His clothes. His room for fucks sake. I have nothing left of him. Nothing. So you know what? It's mine, my memories. They can't take those away. Can't burn them." My throat burned as I let the tears fall. "His name was Christopher. No middle name. He was ten. And it was cancer. The rest is mine." I ran upstairs and closed my door gently as my heart began to race. I felt like I couldn't breathe as the tears fell like a raging river you can't seem to stay afloat in no matter how experienced you are of a swimmer. I crawled into my bed and buried my face in my pillow as my whole chest ached as I sobbed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop crying, so I let myself. I cried until my pillow was drenched. I cried until I fell asleep.

OLIVER'S POV

It broke my heart to hear her crying, and know that I was the one that pushed her over the edge, and I couldn't do anything to fix him. I couldn't bring him back. Ten. Only ten years old. He was only ten when he died. I couldn't imagine how she felt - how her whole family must have felt. Losing a girlfriend is not like losing a family member. And nowhere close to losing your ten year old brother. I wanted to go check on her when she had quit cry, but I assumed she had just cried herself to sleep. I had to find a way to make her not mad at me. I couldn't just throw a party, this wasn't the same as usual upset. I couldn't just call Denis and Ben. She had no friends in England I could call. And then it hit me.