TATTOO PARLOR | daniel howell

t w o

My phone alarm buzzed and I groggily sat up in my bed. My hair was a mess and my sheets were no different. I unplugged my phone and turned off the alarm.

I unlocked my phone to see what seemed like 100 Instagram notifications. I rolled my eyes and smiled at the notifications, all messages from the group chat I'm in, because apparently, none of my friends have melatonin, so none of them ever sleep at night. However, in their defense, I did the same thing that they're doing. But then, I got an actual job that I needed energy and concentration for.

I opened Instagram and messaged the group chat.

Hey y'all. Just want to let you
know I'm not dead.

I'm going to work in a few so don't
try reaching me until my break.

I closed the app and turned my phone on silent. Getting out of bed to brush my hair, I tripped on my bag that I left lying on the floor and hit my head against my nightstand.

"Goddamnit!" I yelled out in pain. My flat mate, Ray, came running in to see if I was okay.

"Hey, (y/n), you okay?" He asked, a concerned look on his face. I shook my head.

"No. But to be honest, am I ever okay?" I replied, holding my head. He walked over to me and put his hand on my head. I winced in pain.

"What happened?" He asked, jerking his hand away.

"I hit my head against the nightstand." I replied, motioning to the bedside drawer behind me. His look of concern turned into a 'are you fucking stupid?' look instead.

"Yeah, and how did you manage to do that? The nightstand is next to your bed!" He yelled at me. I smiled at him.

"I don't know!" I yelled back at him. He let out a sigh and looked down, his head in his hands. He told me he'd get some ice and he walked out of my room. I sat there for a minute, awaiting his return.

He came back and I held the ice against my head. I got up and searched my closet for a pair of ripped, black skinny jeans and a black tank top. I might be summer but black is my aesthetic and basically my uniform for my job.

I got dressed and grabbed my bag of death with my phone inside. I walked into the kitchen and made a bowl of cereal. When I finished, I grabbed my keys from off the kitchen counter and started walking to the door.

"Wait!" Ray called to me. I turned around and he was there holding a bottle of water and my medication. I thanked him, swallowed my meds, and put the bottle of water in my bag.

I turned back to the door and walked out, accidentally slamming the door behind me. I flinched at the loud noise and mentally face palmed.

Walking to the stairs, my phone buzzed.
_.trj._ to the queer-mmunity: have a great day!

I smiled to myself while opening Instagram and responding.

Love you, Sam!

I walked down the stairs and out the doors. The breeze of the outside world made me shiver. Tattoo parlor, here I come!

Hey guys! I'm so sorry this is so short, but I hadn't uploaded in a while and I wanted to get something out for you guys. I really hope you liked it. Love you all!
-ella