The Insomniac Club | ✓

[05] - C-H-O-C-K-O-L-A-T-E

"So how'd that therapy appointment go yesterday, Wren? Did ya get any sleep last night?" My boss asked, popping open a new box of black gloves.

I aimlessly spun around in the chair at the payment desk, twirling a pen between my fingers. "Nope. I spent the whole session yesterday bickering with a 4' 11" independent Asian girl."

Wes raised his brows at me, plopping down on one of the reclining tattoo beds. He leaned it back as far as it could go and threw his arms over his eyes.

Wes had been one of my best friends since high school. Freshman year we had met through the football program after we had both tried out, embarrassed ourselves, and vowed to never try out again. He had been with me through everything, and I had been with him through everything, including buying this tattoo place off of one of his relatives.

Wes had given me my first tattoo when I was fifteen, a small shitty constellation on my ankle that I could easily hide from my parents with socks. I still had it, and it was one of the few that I had gotten at a young age that I hadn't covered up. I believed that even if I got a meaningless and stupid tattoo when I was young, it could still grow some kind of meaning to me. The constellation represented Wes' and I's strong friendship.

Now I was covered in tattoos. Over the years I had learned how to tattoo, and some on my arms and legs were done by me. Wes was much better than I was, so I let him do most of them. Now I had full sleeves on both arms and my back was basically covered in them. Wes had probably twice as much as me though.

"Independent? The hell does that mean? She sounds annoying."

"She is." However, I couldn't help the small smile that grew on my face as I thought of her.

She was annoying in every sense of the word, but she was also very amusing to me. I found great fun in annoying the hell out of her, especially after she made up that dramatic lie as to why I had insomnia. It was fun to see her riled up. She looked like a cute bunny when she was mad.

"I'm guessing she's not annoying in the way that I meant judging on that look on your face."

"What look on my face?"

Wes seemed to think for a second to find the right words. "You look like...how you did when you first met my niece. But less loving."

"I don't get what you mean."

Thankfully, the doors to the parlor were pushed open then, a rowdy group of friends squeezing through the doorway. Most of them were clearly drunk, and I even had the suspicion that some were high on some kind of illegal substance.

And then I saw her in the back. Jules.

She seemed very out of place and uncomfortable. She seemed sober -- thank goodness, I didn't know if I would be able to deal with a drunk Jules, God knows how annoying she would be then -- and once I saw the keys in her hands, I knew she was probably the designated driver for the group tonight. Her eyes caught mine and momentarily widened before narrowing at me.

Wes spoke before me. "Welcome guys, what can I do for you all today?" He asked as he hopped off the reclining bed.

"We all want tattoos. And I was a belly button piercing." A brunette that was basically wrapped around a tall muscular guy said. Her friends voiced their agreement, all except for Jules.

"Monica, I don't think I'm gonna get one. I'll wait in the car for you guys."

Monica -- the brunette girl -- turned around with furrowed brows. "Aw, why not? Come on, it'll be fun!"

A look of distaste passed Jules face. "Getting something that I decided on in a matter of minutes tattooed on me for the rest of my life is not my idea of fun."