This was my favorite part. After hours of precision, seeing the entire piece finally come together almost seems better than creating the work itself. Especially when the art is on someone else's skin.
"Alright," I said with a smile while placing on the bandage, "make sure you wash it everyday and keep up with the ointment this time. Please."
The customer, Ben, laughed. He was maybe a year or two older than me and new to getting tattoos. I had done his first (and only other) tattoo, and the thought of aftercare seemed to not go through his mind. The result of that? Not my fault.
"Yeah, I think I learned my lesson last time." Ben said lightly. He handed me the payment with a tip. "Get home safe, okay?"
"I will, you too." I responded while cleaning up. With that, he walked out.
I let out a sigh. That was my last appointment for the day. Sometimes I never realize how tired I am until closing time, but I'll always love what I do. In all honesty, being a tattoo artist is what allows me to keep a clear mind. While finishing sanitizing the area, I felt a vibrate in my pocket. I grabbed my phone and read the name with a small smile.
"Hey stranger." I answered.
"Stranger?" The voice laughed. "That's what we're doing now, Lo?"
"Well first," I started while walking out and locking the doors to go home, "you don't get to call me Lo anymore. It's Lauren. Second, yes."
"Ouch. That hurt." the voice said sarcastically. Here we go.
"What do you need, Donovan?" I sighed.
Overall, besides some financial struggles, my life was pretty basic. I dropped out of college my freshman year and have been living by myself ever since. Now that I'm 21, I have a somewhat decent grip on independence. Life to me, for the most part, is just pretty plain. Then, there's Donovan. Donovan and I dated for almost 2 years and broke up about 5 months back. I told him that we needed time to figure our own lives out, but ever since last week he thinks we've had enough time to ourselves. I may have spent one or two nights at his apartment since things ended, but those aren't important.
"You." he said heavily, "Kidding, but seriously, let me come and take you home. I don't like you walking alone at night."
"Good thing this is about what I want." I sighed and rolled my eyes.
Even with my oppositions, I knew he was right. My apartment and the tattoo shop are both on the south side of the city, and even during the day it's not the safest place to be. Donovan was born and raised on the east side, which is known to be a nicer part of town. The high crime rates keep us all on edge, but it's nothing new to me. I've lived here since I was a kid with my mom. My dad left us when I was 12 and my mom never said why, so as a kid I didn't question it. When I was 18 she took her own life, putting me in the position of being on my own. Things have been tough but I have always found a way to stay on my own feet. That's what my mom would have wanted.
"God, why are you so hard headed." Donovan groaned to himself. There was a long pause. "I'm trying, Lo." he added softly.
"I know. I'm sorry." I apologized. "I just-"
I froze after hearing a loud crash and screaming. Quickly checking my surroundings, I realized no one was around me. I kept walking at a faster pace.
"What was that? Lauren I'm not about to argue, I'm coming to get you." he exclaimed.
Before getting the chance to refuse, I heard multiple people screaming and the sound of a gunshot. I ran to hide behind a parked car, as it was the only large thing in sight. Peeking around the corner, I looked ahead into a dark alley ahead of me and realized that's where the noise was coming from.
