Inked

Drunken Confessions

Chapter 7:

I wake up with Eleanor shaking me awake at 5 in the morning telling me she's leaving for Nicolette's for the weekend and that my phone has gone off at least 7 times since she's woken up. I lazily get up and check my messages which all tell me to check the music charts in both the UK and America. Hannah, my mum, Ed, Ed's team, all demanding I check immediately.

I take my phone to the kitchen to get a cuppa and Google the music billboards. With a sip of my tea and a scroll of my finger, a cliché is played out as I take a spit take all over the counter top. I wipe my mouth and look back to the screen.

Number 1 in the UK and Number 3 in America! Wow... that's insane. I shove a bagel in my mouth and run to my bedroom to get dressed. Then I remember that it's 5 am and choose to go back to bed until normal people are awake.

At a normal hour, (about 9:30) I get up and drag my lazy ass out of bed. Showering and getting dressed I have my song on repeat the entire time, which seems really stupid and self-involved but it makes me happy.

This opens so many doors for me in the future. I can't even think properly I'm so excited. Although I can't picture myself being, "famous", this does mean changes - financial and professional. It's everything that I've ever wanted, and yet it's nothing I'll ever need. Well that's simply everything I wanted to say in a sentence.

Once again I walk up the familiar path way to the tattoo shop with the tinted windows that read "Kilam Nyaz" and open the door. Waliyha greets me as usual and tells me to just head back. Her hair in a bun to give off an official vibe but it's overshadowed by her game of angry birds on her phone.

"Hey guess what!" I run up to a very scruffy Zayn and bring him in my arms for an excited hug. He's wearing a tank top again and it might kill me. It matches his black baggy skinny jeans and overstuffed skater-boy converse. He's even wearing a snap back and hipster glasses.

"You found a million dollars?" He guesses with his face snuggled in my neck.

"Better! My song is doing really, really well and I want a tattoo to celebrate!" I plop down on the bench and roll up my sleeve.

"Yeah?" He asks, clearing off his desk and gathering up the proper stuff. "I heard it was number 3 in America." He smirks.

"Isn't that amazing? America! That's like, every writer's dream isn't it?" I ask.

"Yeah, this doesn't mean you're going to move there and forget about me, does it?" He jokes.

"Of course not! I'm here to stay, and I don't think this is going to bring me much fame to be honest. But it doesn't matter because everyone is buying it and loving it, and playing it, and learning the words!" I pump myself up.

"I know! I bought it." He admits.

"No you didn't." I challenged, shocked.

"Wanna bet?" he pulls out his phone and shows me his music. Sure enough, my name is listed beside Where We Land and the count is up to 2,564 plays.

"What? You've played it over two thousand time? That's like... I don't know 100 hours?" I ask shocked.

"Oh, yeah... well when I really like a song I play it constantly on loop until I get sick of it then I never listen to it again." He blushes.

"Well don't get sick of my song!" I demand, handing him back his phone.

"I haven't yet." He smirks. "What are you permanently etching into your body today?" He asks, taking a seat on the tattooing chair.

"More writing." I smile grabbing the binder from the shelf under his desk and flipping through it. "I want..." I point to a cursive-ish font, "this font, and I want it to say this." I say grabbing out a square of paper out of my pocket and unfolding it, spreading it across the table.