Despondent | (Completed but editing)

Chapter 40.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Jason asks me as we take a seat around the table in my kitchen, picking up our forks and picking at the scrambled eggs I made.

"I'm thinking about going to see my dad, I don't know," I shrug.

"What about your mum?" He questions.

"She didn't even make an effort to text me on my birthday, why would I go and see her?" I state.

"Fair enough," he says, filling his mouth with food.

"I really want a tattoo," I randomly blurt.

"Really? I could ask my dad, I want some more of my torso done," he says.

"Would your dad tattoo me?" I ask.

"Of course, we just have to go to his house when he's not at work because if he does it at the shop he'll lose his license," he tells me.

"I don't know what I'd get though."

"You could even get it done today if you wanted, if you can decide before like, 6," he says and I turn to the clock on the wall. 10:41.

"Oh my god, yes, help me figure something out," I say, my body filling with adrenaline.

"My name," he says and I stare at him blankly. I love him, but no fucking way.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," he says and I'm greeted with a sigh of relief.

"How much would your dad charge if I wanted like quite a big design over the side of my thigh?" I ask.

"Probably about two hundred, seeing as you're my friend. What do you want done?"

"I want a sugar skull, surrounded with a bunch of flowers, roses and stuff, all over the side of my thigh and hip," I tell him.

"That's quite big for your first tattoo" he says and I shrug.

"Does he do piercings too?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says.

"Maybe I'll get a piercing some other time," I say, toying with the idea.

"Most of the piercings are around twenty dollars," he says.

"Sweet and thanks to my dad, money is never an issue," I say and we both giggle.

"I'll ring him quickly and see what times the best," he says, standing up quickly and walking into the front room. I hear him mumble behind the thick brick walls, talking away to his dad.

A few minutes later he comes back into the kitchen, phone in hand. "Dad's got the day off, we can go now if you want," he says and I look down at my jumper and shorts. I might as well keep them on, seeing as I'm getting a thigh tattoo done, plus we'll be inside anyway.

"Ready?" Jason asks as I pull my Tim's on. I stand up and smile, heading for the front door, grabbing my keys off the shelf before opening the front door.

"You're driving," I say, before taking a step into the cold hall. I shiver at the temperature difference but soon get used to it. "Hurry, its cold," I usher Jason out of the flat.

"Yeah yeah, call the elevator," he says and so I do, taking a few steps forward and pressing the white button to the left of the shaft, lighting it up red. Jason joins me in waiting for the lift to come up to our level. It finally arrives and opens, both me and Jason stepping inside.

We step out of the elevator and through the clean lobby, the smell of bleach attacking my nose. The walls appeared a fresh shade of white, as if they'd been painted over night, but no smell of paint whatsoever. The notice board has been re arranged, each notice placed beautifully and every piece of paper lined up perfectly, a perfectionist's dream.

We exit the building, walking into the cold winter as if it was a brick wall in front of us. Goose bumps rise on my legs and I shiver as I take the few steps towards Jason's car. He immediately unlocks it, and I immediately open the door and climb in. He walks around and into the road, quickly opening his door and climbing in as fast as he can. He shuts the door behind him with force, instantly putting the key into the ignition, turning it and starting the car up. I pull my seat belt down and fasten it as Jason plays around with the heating, sending warm air through the car and warming up my freezing body.

The car drive is filled with a few questions from me to Jason about tattoo pain, design, and touch-ups. We stopped at an ATM just before we arrived, allowing me to withdraw money for the tattoo. We've been sitting in the car for a while now, pulled up outside a house yet I haven't questioned it.

"Ready?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say, pushing my car door open and stepping out onto the pavement. I push the door shut behind me, it slamming closed with a loud sound. I stand awkwardly waiting for Jason, him fiddling around with something in the car. I lean down and tap the window, getting his attention. He looks up at me and holds a finger up, I'm guessing he means one minute but who knows. I continuously tap on the window gently using my knuckle, until he opens the car door and jumps out.

"God, what were you doing?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says, walking past me and walking up to the house we parked directly outside of. He knocks on the door and I follow him to stand on the small step that elevates the house from the pavement. We wait a few seconds before we hear unlocking and fiddling coming from inside of the house. The door is pulled open, and a man with long curly hair is standing there. His entire body is covered in tattoos, some peeping through the rips in his AC/DC shirt. Painted onto his face is a welcoming smile, accompanied with snakebites.

"Hey," Jason's dad says, his voice deep and husky, "I'm Dio, you must be Lana."

"That's me," I say with a smile.

"Come in," he says, stepping to the side to allow us to enter. Upon stepping into the house the smell of, let's say, a hospital hits you in the face. The front door leads immediately into the front room. On the walls there are many pictures of tattoo designs, and in frames there are actual photos of tattoos on people. Each design is unique, all of them clearly tailored to every persons requirements. No design is the same, not even in the slightest. Every line is perfectly shaded, each intricately drawn.

"So, Lana, what design was you after?" Dio asks, taking a seat by a table and grabbing a pencil and notepad.

"I was thinking a sugar skull design, floral, with a few roses surrounding it," I say and Jason's dad smiles.

"I love sugar skulls," he says and begins to sketch.

"So, Jason tells me this is your first tattoo?"

"Yeah."

"You wanted it covering your thigh and some of your hip correct?" He asks, still sketching.

"Yeah, how much does it hurt?" I question.

"Thigh tattoos don't hurt that bad. It's a fleshy area which is always good for pain, perfect place to choose a first tattoo," he assures me.

"Okay," I say, watching him sketch and sketch away.

"Son, what did you want to get?" He asks Jason.

"A skull, with someone holding it," he says.

AUTHORS NOTE

•all of your comments are so lovely everyone, I appreciate it so much!!

•sorry this chapters long and boring, but chapters like this have to happen sometimes to help with the plot!!

•also, remember if you want a book reviewed head over to my book review book!!

•thank you for reading x