You and Me (Plus Everyone In Between Us)

I Am Somewhat Okay With This

All three of us emerged into the dim red lowlights of the tattoo parlour, pulsating with a mix of gritty rock music blended with buzzing tattoo machines. The rugged brick walls were adorned with a tapestry of intricate artistry, and the air hung heavy with the intoxicating scent of ink.

I suddenly felt a prick of nervousness and I hadn't even picked out a tattoo yet. I wanted to come here for my birthday today. And here I was?

"Are you guys gonna get anything?" I asked, observing the ornate designs on the glass.

Grace grinned mischievously. "Oh, I've been dreaming of starting a badass tattoo sleeve forever."

Janelle's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "That would look so hot on you!"

Grace playfully raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you think so?"

While they flirted back and forth, I searched for the perfect design, contemplating the consequences of my rebellious decision. I needed to have it where Mom and Dad wouldn't see it. What did it matter? It was my tattoo and my body. When I got home, it was time for me to stand my ground!

A laugh escaped me at my thoughts. That would never happen.

My gaze landed on a mesmerizing patchwork rose, its intricate details calling out to me.

"What can I get for you?" the tattoo artist, his arms adorned in vibrant ink, asked from behind the desk.

I pointed upwards. "I think I want this design—the rose."

He nodded in approval. "Good choice."

Grace turned towards me, pointing to a picture of a burning yellow sun. "I'm going for this one, on my forearm. What about you?"

My heart pounded in my chest. "The rose. Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm actually doing this!"

Janelle joined in the excitement. "I'm getting a moon."

"Aw, sun and moon," I gushed at their matching tattoo idea.

The tattoo artist grinned. "Who's going first?"

Janelle wasted no time pointing at me. "She'll go first. After all, it was her idea to come here!"

A mix of nervousness and anticipation rushed through me as I found myself led into a room with the same brick walls centred around a chair. An array of needles lay neatly arranged on a side table, surrounded by the distinct scent of antiseptic. I settled into the chair, mustering a brave smile.

"Where are we putting this?" he asked, readying his equipment.

I considered for a moment. "On my shoulder," I decided, thankful that I had worn a tank top for this special occasion. Grace and Janelle eagerly entered the room, their playful smiles urging me on. I shot them a quick, grateful smile before turning over.

The tattoo artist wiped my back clean and applied the stencil against my skin. As the moment of truth approached, I wondered if it was too late to back out. But then, as if on cue, the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine whirred to life, growing louder and closer, harmonizing with the pounding rhythm of my heart.

The sensation of the needle was the symphony of both pain and pleasure tingling through me. I winced, gritting my teeth as he etched the design into my upper back.

Finally, he exclaimed, "Done!"

He applied a protective bandage over the freshly-inked area. It actually wasn't as bad as I thought.

A grin of excited satisfaction spread across my face as I bounced back to Grace and Janelle, bursting with the news. "I got a tattoo! It's mine!"

Wasn't that crazy?