no pain no gain

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Layne's POV

"Wren where are we going?" I ask for what has to be the thousandth time.

"Ssshhh," she responds again. After work Wren had blindfolded me and forced me into her car with little explanation. The only thing I could gather was that she was trying to get my mind off of KJ. And that thought alone made me miss her even more.

I start to reach for the bandanna she'd tied over my eyes and she slaps my hand away.

"We're almost there, gosh," I can hear the eye roll in her voice.

I exhale loudly, and she hits me, "Stop whining. We're here."

The car stops and I hear Wren get out. I feel the passenger door open and she places a hand on my shoulder, "Careful."

I brace against the door and stand up, disorientated by the blindfold. Wren shifts to hold my hand and leads me down the street. I stumble on a piece of uneven pavement and grab onto her.

"Shit girl watch out," Wren reprimands me.

"Dammit," I curse under my breath, annoyed, "Can I take this stupid thing off yet?"

"Actually yes," she says excitedly, "We're here!"

I rip the blindfold from my eyes and look up, reading the artsy sign in front of us. STRANGER TATTS.

"A tattoo shop?" I state the obvious, "Fuck no, Wren." I start to walk away.

"Come on!" she grabs my arm, "It'll be good for you!" She attempts to drag me closer to the door, "I'll even pay. Please, Layne!"

"Aren't tattoos are fucking expensive?" I argue, remembering asking KJ about her sleeve once before, "Besides, what am I even gonna get?"

"Just look, please," she drags me inside the building, "Humor me."

"Fine," I submit, already in the establishment anyway. I look around the building. Blue grey walls decorated with work from the artists. Grey stone tile floors. The air smells clean, but not in a chemical way. Its clean in an absence of scent way. A faint motor buzzes in the background.

"Welcome ladies," a man in a v-neck shirt and jeans steps out from the work area, "Anything I can help you with?"

"My girl here needs a sick break up tattoo," Wren explains, "Ideas?"

Break up, tattoo....

"Well you've got the real angsty folks who get there ex's name tatted on their then scratched out with red ink. The real cheesy route with the broken heart tat. Personal fave---"

His voice drones on but I'm not listening. Break up... Kaylie Jane and I were not broken up. A break implies there's no repair. A break implies a split. We weren't even ever really together. But whatever is going on between us, it isn't the end.

"It's not a break up," I interrupt him, "We're--- It's complicated. But it's not over."

They both turn to me, "Okay well what do you want?"

"Cherry blossoms," I don't know where it comes from, but I know that it's right, "On my hip."

The guy nods, "Yeah okay. That'll look dope. Hold up for a little."

He goes over to the desk, and pulls out a binder, "A girl asked me to customize this for her years ago and never came back for it," he slides me the binder, pointing to the design, "You'd be perfect for it."

My eyes scroll the page. Bold outline. Airbrushed pink petals.

"I love it," If I wasn't into this tattoo idea before, I was now.

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