𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞 [COMPLETE]

𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟎𝟏𝟑 { Tristen }

"𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚎."
~~~

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐡'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

"It's about time you brought your ass back he're boy." Buzz flicks his lighter, bringing it up to the cigarette locked between his lips.

"Long time no see Buzz." I lifted my chin in acknowledgment.

"Yeah, Yeah. Get in there Tristen's gonna let you have it." We shook hands and went in for a half hug before I passed by him as he blew another puff of smoke through his nostrils.

The door bell chimed as I walked in bringing all the attention towards myself. I instantly recognize the grungy aesthetic of the shop I used to spend countless evenings getting tatted in freshmen and sophomore year.

A large buff guy wearing biker gear sat in the corner getting his neck done by what seems to be a new employee. He winced as she applied pressure, giving her a glare soon after she lifted the pen. Neck jobs hurt. I knew firsthand because mine were covered in them.

The shop was small but always had frequent customers. Colorful artwork hung around all four walls creating a welcoming environment. My favorite being the distinct shaped pattern piece Mel had created for me that currently sat on my shoulder.

My eyes travel down the line of chairs and organized tables of supplies hoping to find Tristen getting inked or inking someone, seeing as she was the best tattoo artist in here but what I find instead doesn't shock me.

I noticed a younger looking boy bobbing his feet a million times a second clearly about to shit his pants in the waiting area. Around him, his friends joked about how scared he looked for his first tattoo.

He joined them but his laugh didn't reach his eyes as the boys continue to chuckle and imitate his frightened actions.

He was being peer pressured by them.

Typical

But definitely not on my watch. I knew how that shit felt firsthand. Trying to fit in with the older guys to prove something when the only person you had to please was yourself.

Not a second passes as I walk up to them in just a few strides. The boy timidly looks up twisting and untwisting a band on his wrist. The nerves were written all over his body language, practically revealing itself.

"How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen." His words were confident. I give him that but the look on his face revealed the lie coming out of his mouth. I cock my eyebrow showing him I knew he was bull shitting me and he caved instantly.

"Sixteen." He sighed, avoiding eye contact.

"Just as I expected. It's time for you to leave." As soon as those words left my mouth the ragged boys a few seats down, perked up. I knew they were listening. It was only a matter of time.

"Who the hell are you barking around orders. We're customers here and he wants to get inked."

"We don't ink minors without parental consent. But we can call the police since it seems you all have ditched fourth period." I finished, glancing at my watch, smirking smugly as the boys faces paled.