I've always had a feeling that I would die young. Ever since I started pondering on deaths door I've had this feeling. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life.
I want to be in my suit, in my...
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Buzz, buzz, buzz. That's all I can here. The sound of a tattoo gun breaking skin to leave a lifelong mark.
I'm not sure how I was able to convince everyone in my friend group to come get a tattoo. Matching tattoos to be specific.
The idea was last minute. After many drinks and a few lines, I was able to convince everyone to do it. Even perfect boy Dylan.
The tattoo is small and something Diego came up with. It's a small race car with smoke trails behind it. The car appears to be a Ferrari f40, however he said he didn't base it of any specific car.
Atlas is currently in the chair as the tattooist does his job. He has decided to place the tattoo on his upper forearm and he seems tense as he breathes in deeply. "I'm okay." He shuts his eyes before opening it to look back at the needle stabbing his skin. He stares at the tattoo for a moment before his eyes close and he begins to fall.
He lands on the floor, completely passing out. The tattooist stares at him shocked. "If he asks, that line on his arm has always been there."
We all agree. "Okay! My turn!" I leap over Atlas and onto the chair. Taking off my shirt, I watch as the tattooist applies the stencil onto my left peck. Right on my heart. I just always have to wear my shirt to hide the tattoo.
Everyone else in my group is done with their tattoo. Luke got his on his right shoulder blade, Dre got his on his ankle, Diego got his just by his hip bone and Dylan got his on his ribs. "I can't believe I put a bumper sticker on a Bentley!" Dylan cries out, staring at himself through the mirror shirtless.
He covers his face with his hands, wailing. I sigh deeply, hearing the tattoo machine begin. Huh, this doesn't hurt. I can barely feel it.
Sure the needle is breaking and letting ink sink deep into my skin, but it doesn't hurt. Maybe the line I did a few minutes ago in this bathroom is helping with the pain.
I watch as Atlas is dragged onto another chair with a different tattooist by Dre while he's still knocked out cold. My eyes go to Luke who is on Diego's back, running up and down to see who's stronger between the two.
My feet kick out of boredom as I wait for the tattooist to finish up. It doesn't take him long to tell me he's done and I jump off the chair, pushing Dylan out of the mirror to admire my brand new tattoo. Oh yeah, this was a genius idea. I look so hot. So fine.
I flex in the mirror, turning my body so my back is facing the mirror and I can see all my muscles. "Guys! I need a septum piercing now!" I turn my body to face the tattooist. He takes off his black gloves, nodding. "I'm also piercer."
Luke holds Diego on his back, stopping in his tracks. "Are you crazy?" Luke asks. "Yeah, are you crazy?" Diego copies Luke, holding onto him for dear life.
"Why are you talking, metal face?" I ask Luke, pointing at his multiple facial piercings. "Yeah, why are you talking metal face?" Diego hits him on the head. Luke scoffs. "I'll drop you." Diego tightens his grip. "No! Don't! You're too tall, I'll break all my bones."
