It was quiet when I walked into the tattoo parlor.
Most likely because it was midday and the people who were in there now for their ink were people who had set up appointments with their individual artist.
Which was why Tristan was here in the first place - an appointment he hadn’t said too much about.
That gave me a little bit of pause about this whole “surprise” thing, especially since it said nothing about popping up at someone’s job. I didn’t want to be too big of an interruption or distraction while he was trying to work, but...still.
After that little run-in with the mother of his child, I was feeling a little out of sorts. Add to that the sensitivity of us having finally had sex, and I was just confused. And not nearly as secure as I would have liked to be.
So… I pushed past my little doubts and sauntered up to the front desk anyway.
The same person who was there when I initially went to get my tattoo was there at the front desk again.
Priya.
She smiled when she saw me, recognizing me as a former customer.
“Hey, you back for some more ink?” she asked.
“Oh no, not today,” I told her, pressing my fingers into the cold surface of the desk. “I actually popped by to see if I can talk to Tristan for a minute. I mean, if he’s available.”
For some reason, that made Priya roll her eyes. “I mean, he’s back there with a customer, but he ain’t busy. You can go back there.”
“Oookay.” I thought, but gave her a smile and nodded before I took her at her word that Tristan wasn’t actually busy.
Maybe he was taking a break, or maybe he was tattooing one of the other artists that worked there in the shop, so it was a casual thing.
Or... maybe he had his face in Nya’s crotch as he tattooed her upper inner thigh.
This whole not killing people thing was getting harder and harder as this day wore on.
“Oh hey Temp,” Nya chirped, looking up at where I was standing in the open doorway.
It made me feel a little better that the door was open for this, implying that there wasn’t much privacy needed, but still… this wasn’t exactly the kind of scene I wanted to walk up on.
“That’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Temp like temporary. Only for now, not really anything serious you know?” She kept talking, only irritating me further.
“So it’s going to be real serious when I beat your ass then?” I asked, not even remotely capable of exercising any type of real restraint against simple words.
My rebuttal, not her slick comment was the thing that finally made Tristan look up from what he was doing to notice I was there, stopping the tattoo gun to give me that censoring look.
”Babe, chill,” he said. “Nya is fucking around.”
“Yeah, she’s gonna fuck around and get my foot up her ass,” I countered. “I’m not her damn friend, so, she can find somebody else to play with.”
“Oh so serious and violent. I didn’t know you were into that, Tristan,” Nya went on, still needling.
“Well maybe the mother of his child beating your stupid ass should have clued you in.”
Nya gasped, and Tristan groaned, putting the tattoo gun down completely and standing up from his seat between her legs.
“I’ll be right back,” he told her, not looking back as he hooked his hand around my arm to drag me from the open doorway to an empty break room. “Is this how it’s going to be now?” he asked, clearly annoyed with me for some reason. “This is exactly why I wanted to hold off. We’ve had sex, we crossed that line, and now the drama starts.”
“And that’s my fault?” I asked. “I’m the one bringing the drama? A few hours ago you had your dick down my throat, and now I walk up in here and you’re face deep in your ex’s pussy while she throws little jabs, and somehow the drama is my fault?”
“Man come on with the exaggerations T,” he groaned. “Yes, me and Nya used to date, but we don’t anymore. She’s a friend who wanted some ink. I was supposed to say no to that because of what me and you have going on?”
“Don’t try to twist it to make it sound like I’m being ridiculous. A typical friend? No, it wouldn’t be a problem. But when this friend very clearly wants to be more than that, and has no issue openly antagonizing the person you’re seeing? Yeah it’s a problem.”
“Temp, how is it different from any other customer? I’ve got to run my client by you beforehand to make sure there’s not somebody you don’t like on it?”
“Okay so is she a friend, or a client? Did she pay for the tattoo?”
Tristan frowned, confused. “I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but yeah, she’s paying - we… barter, I guess. She keeps my locs together for me.”
My eyes damn near ballooned out of my head at that. “Ohhhh, so she pays by getting to be up close and personal with you for hours and hours at a time. Got it.”
“You are completely fucking bugging right now! If me and you are together, I can’t have friends?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that… if me and you are together, you can’t have that friend,” I shrugged. “Because that bitch is not a friend - she’s a parasitic ex hanging in hopes of becoming more again, and antagonizing any future prospects along the way.”
I knew this from professional experience - I’d neutralized my fair share in order to get the access I needed to a target.
“Wow. We’ve known each other a few weeks, and now you’re telling me who my friends are?”
I let out a dry chuckle. “Obviously you need somebody to. Do you have long conversations about life with her? She supports your dreams? Checks in with you? Makes sure you’re okay? Could you count on her for help if you were in trouble? Anything of that nature?” I asked, digging into my point. “Cause if the answer is no to any of that, and you can’t think of anything equivalent, that’s not your fucking friend - it’s a bitch you keep around to feed your ego, and you know… I won’t deal with that.”
He scoffed. “Deal with what?’”
“With not being a priority for you. That’s how relationships work, right?”
“So you feel like you should be my top priority now?”
“I didn’t say top, I said a priority. If this means anything to you, at all.”
Tristan’s face wrinkled into a scowl. “Of course it does, why would you even say that shit?”
“Because before I got here, I got cursed out by the mother of your child because I spoke to your daughter and she had no idea I existed. Then I get here, and you’re up your ex’s crotch, letting her speak to me any fucking kinda way,” I explained, feeling ridiculous once I’d said it out loud, but… nah.
Fuck that.
My feelings didn’t have to -weren’t about to - be downplayed
“We’re still figuring this out, so no, I haven’t told Von anything about you. Why were you talking to them anyway?”
“I ran into them at the store. And it’s not even really about that - I’m not mad about that. I’m mad because when I came here looking for some reassurance, I found you with your ex.”