Welcome to Lost Boys Ink

Forever and ever and ever and ever

Pete feels like he's dying. Or he's already dead and this is hell. His own personal hell, dressed up as a normal day in his shop and Pete being really, really hung over.

It's possible that he's just hung over though and this is not actual hell. He can't tell because his head is screaming at him and his stomach is still deciding if the bagel he had this morning was a good idea.

He should have left the bar last night before the girl he was talking to turned into three girls and before he needed to bend over the bushes outside the bar.

But at least he wasn't moping around alone in his apparent. After the big showdown in Pete's shop and Patrick storming out he allowed himself two days. Two days to hide away in his apartment, leave the shop in Joe's hands, eat nothing but junk food and question his whole existence. Or something like that.

But at the end of day two he stopped wallowing and got out of bed. Everything else would be ridiculous. He barely knew Patrick and Patrick barely knew him. They talked like- what, three times? Nothing to obsess over. Pete might have waited for his soulmate, but it's not the end of the world.

Well, Pete might also be in denial.

And he had a great time since then. He worked and functioned and spent lots of time with Joe and Marie, eating home cooked food for a change. Maybe he'd gone out a little more and maybe he'd drank a lot more, but well, there's no one complaining.

Except Pete's hung-over self right now.

And neither is Joe with his gloating face looking at Pete. He takes too much joy out of Pete's misery.

The bell over the door is especially cruel to Pete whenever someone decides to come in – just looking around to leave without saying anything.

When the bell over the door rings once again and Pete looks up he wishes he hadn't.

It's Patrick standing in his shop – a familiar sight even though he hadn't been here in weeks – staring at him. Since the last time Pete hadn't heard from him again, not that he expected to.

For a moment Pete has the urge to hide his arm behind his back but then remembers that isn't necessary. He's got nothing to hide anymore.

Silence is stretching out between them, its deafening and even though Pete's head is grateful for the quiet it's just so uncomfortable. You could hear a needle drop it's so quiet.

And because Pete is speechless once again when it comes to Patrick Joe steps in, just like the day Patrick came in for his first session.

But Patrick is only looking at Pete when Joe asks him why he's there and he's still looking at Pete when he answers.

"I heard that a great tattoo artist is working here, goes by the name Ace?"

Pete feels like his head is repeatedly bashed against the counter that's standing between him and Patrick. The scene before him doesn't make any sense. Pete is not really up for more confrontations.

"Listen, I'm not in the mood for games, my head is spinning and there's a high chance my breakfast is making a reappearance any moment. What do you want?"

"I want to talk."

Pete purses his lips. He would ask what Patrick wants, but with Joe being there he's not sure he wants to hear the answer just now.

"Follow me."

Pete waves Patrick over and steps into the backroom, not waiting to see if Patrick follows. He throws Joe, who seemed to have blended perfectly into the background, a glance. Pete is sure someone will be listening near the door, but he doesn't really care.