City of Angels - K.L

ONE

I'm itching to get out. Hovering by the door of the hotel room. Mum shushes me from one of the beds
"Zaya, sit down honey. We just got here."
I huff, skipping over to join her on the bed
"Yeah, we just got to LA. We should be out making the most of every minute we're on holiday."
My stepfather, Luke, mutters from the other side of mum where I thought he was asleep
"Your cousin didn't warn us you were so pushy and restless when traveling."
"Diana agrees with me, that's why."
I retort, turning back to mum as May climbs up on my lap
"Either way, this is not how you go about dealing with jet lag. You should be up, beating it in the day, and sleep when it's nighttime."
Luke groans, sitting up
"I have heard that. You have a point."
I clap, giving May a high five and jump up
"Great. Get yourselves cleaned up. May and I will be waiting in the lobby."

Los Angeles is nothing like I expected and everything I have expected at the same time. It gorgeous and damaged. Unique and broken. Urban and poetic. So much life, so much language in the streets. Every detail excites me- the shitty graffiti, the amazing artworks of graffiti, known restaurants, American snacks in people's hands as they pass us, yellow taxis, accents, crowds. And the palm trees! Oh my gosh the palm trees lining the streets. I can't help but snap photos on my Polaroid of everything. I'm running out of film already, and it's only our first day in the county. It also doesn't hurt that it's so hard to take a bad Polaroid- because mum is actually managing to get good photos of me. Photos like she never could get of me on a phone or digital camera. These are Instagram quality, but maybe that's just LA's doing. The first thing we do is Universal, where I achieve my life long goal of meeting the Grinch at Grinchmas. This Grinch is amazing, and could very well be the real Jim Carrey under it all. The photo we get becomes my lockscreen on my phone. The plan after a full day of rides and tours at Universal Studios is to go see the Friends fountain (for Mum's and my sake) and then go for dinner and then home to sleep. Although I couldn't imagine sleeping right now. Excitement flowing through my veins. Dinner isn't far from Burbank and the fountain, a nice sushi place. We considered sushi a light choice, wanting something less filling after a full day of eating everything on offer at Universal. It is during the walk that I pause in my tracks, staring at a store across the street from us, the title glowing at me like a sign from Heaven above. I catch mum's arm, and she stops beside me
"What is it sweetie?"
I point
"That's the tattoo shop."
"The tattoo shop?"
"My favourite tattoo artist's shop."
Mum gasps, excited instantly, knowing who I'm talking about.
"That Romeo guy?"
I nod. Mum has always been on board with my love of tattoos. I'm he creative one of her children, and tattoos are part of that, she has always embraced it- so long as they don't become sleeves and they all have purpose. She took me to get my first one, my only one, when I was sixteen- albeit the tattoo was for her. She nudges me with her shoulder, voice suggestive
"Want to get a tattoo?"
I can't keep the excitement in my blood from boiling over. Without consulting the others, we do what in Australia we could get away with, and jaywalk across the street. It was quiet in the moment though, not one car coming at us. She links my arm through hers as we enter the doors of The California Dream Tattoo, and my heart stops. Something I've only dreamt of becomes a reality before me. It's empty right now though, apart from the artists and one customer getting a tricep tat. The line god himself, Romeo Lacoste, looks up from his desk when he notices we have entered
"Hey! Looking to get a tattoo tonight?"
I grin, shrugging
"Or whenever, if we need to make an appointment."
He waves it off, walking around his desk and over to us
"Nah, free as a bird. We can do you right now, so long as it isn't huge."
Mum interjects
"Oh, no need to worry about it being huge now. Right Zi?"
I nod, assuring her
"Right mumma."
She nods
"Good."
Luke now entering behind us clears his throat
"Marissa?"
She huffs and tells me
"Can you get back to our hotel safely? Luke doesn't want to hang around obviously and May is falling asleep."
I nod
"I got it mumma. I'll be home soon."
She kisses my cheek and leaves with them. Romeo claps
"Right, lets get down to business. Romeo, nice to meet you."
I shake his tattooed hand
"Zaya, you too."
He leads me further into the store towards a chair
"What would you like?"
I know instantly, but ask before I answer
"Could I get a few small ones?"
He nods
"By all means."
Smiling and sliding up on the chair, I ask for
"Then I'll get a angel wing on the back of my right wrist and a quote saying 'to be or not to be' on my ribs. Really small, delicate, the wing in your style."
He grins, rolling over on his stool to another table against the wall and picking up a pencil
"Let me jut draw up the designs for you and we'll get started."
As he draws, I request
"Also... would you mind signing it."
He laughs, his head dropping back
"I love when I'm asked to do that. Of course sweetheart."
"Thank you so much for fitting me in tonight."
He draws and speaks at the same time
"It's no problem. I could see you're on holiday and would be busy most of the time. Seems like you came at the perfect time too. Australia right?"
I giggle
"What gave that away?"
"The tan. Only one place you can get that."
I laugh, correcting
"That's actually my dad's genes. But thank you, I pride myself on it."
He rolls back over, holding up the designs
"This good?"
"Amazing."
He grins
"Then lets get it."
He transfers the design into my skin, starting with the wing, and begins on the tattoo. As soon as he does, I can't help but mention
"Dude, I'm being tattooed by the fucking like god. I may pass out on the chair."
He chuckles
"So long as it isn't from the pain. Do I have your permission to finish even if your asleep?"
"You have permission to not only finish but do anything else. Tattoo 'sad lil fangirl' on my forehead if you wanted to."
"Don't tempt me."
As he keeps going, he asks
"Any meaning behind the wing?"
I shrug
"A couple. For my grandpa who passed away recently and for LA, the City of Angels."
"I love it. How long are you in town?"
"A week, then we're doing rout 66 until we get to the West Coast for New Years."
"Watching the ball drop?"
"Of course."
He comments
"You seem cool. Like you're meant for LA. Fit right in."
I laugh
"I'm glad it shows. I think so too."