Permanent, chapter one

 Jake spotted the lithe Latina as soon as she walked in the shop. A fitted black tank top hugged her curves, and the low-slung jeans showed off a nice strip of tanned flesh. His eyes followed her up to the counter, where she had a quick exchange with the other artist and sat down. His client noticed the halt in the buzzing of the tattoo gun and looked up to see what was distracting him.

"Hellooo…" he drawled to no one in particular. Jake’s client nodded her shaggy head and hummed in appreciation. He wiped the fresh ink and welling blood from the back of her arm and continued on the shading of the sparrow tattoo. "Hey, do you want me to touch up the one on your back while I’m at it?"

"Yeah, go for it." Shane’s voice was deep for her size, Jake mused. He never thought of her as butch, but her deep rasp, not mention her dress and mannerisms, kept her from being too feminine. They had been casual friends since he did her first tattoo a few years ago. Shane always came back to him and sent in referrals every once in a while.

Meanwhile, the unwitting eye-candy strolled up to the desk. She was here for touch-ups for the two tattoos circling her hips. Her artist was finishing up another client and would be another fifteen minutes, so she picked up a tattoo magazine and flipped through the pictures, stopping at an elaborate back piece featuring Buddha surrounded by intricate lotus flowers. The full color piece was gorgeous, but Carmen was more of a solid-black girl. Besides, she had no idea what else, besides family, could make her want to take up that much skin, that much time and that much pain. For her, family was always worth pain, because only they could take it away. She wasn’t out to her family, and while that caused her pain, she was always able to find solace and comfort in the arms of her mother, and the chaotic household she kept.

The two seated on the opposite side of the partition had forgotten the woman for now, and the persistent vibrating buzz continued. The sound annoyed Shane to no end, but the results were always worth it when Jake was concerned. Soon, he had finished the bird, and wiped off the blood and ink one last time and said "Well, stand up, take a look in the mirror." Jake cleaned up and prepared a new needle and fresh ink for the touch ups on her back. Shane twisted her neck around to see the bird, then checked it out in the mirror, flexing her triceps. She grinned, it was exactly what she wanted. It was great. Shane also noticed she’d put some weight back on. This was good, too. After Cherie and the drugs and the depression, she stopped eating and started to remind herself of the poor kids on the commercials that you could feed for ten dollars a day. When she started feeling better, she sent off $50 to one of those organizations, and with another $50, got herself some fried chicken, potatoes, fruit, ice cream, and anything else that sounded good. She hoped this tattoo was another step in getting herself back to a better place.