Asher
The tattoo parlor was as usual humming with customers and regular whirring of machines with some old ass rock songs playing in the background. Ruby stood by the corner, grimacing at a female customer making a fuss.
“Ruby!” I called. She turned around and rolled her eyes at me.
“Bloody sissies. If you can’t handle pain, why get a tattoo?” she grumbled, stalking to her office. I followed after her, shutting the door behind me. She lit a cigarette and then flopped down on her desk.
“Yes, it’s nice to see you too,” I said, taking a seat.
“Oh cut the crap, we are both beyond these formalities boy,” she let out a puff of smoke and gave me a look. “Congratulations on the wedding, by the way.”
“You didn’t come,”
“Not my thing. I hate all that happiness and lovey-dovey crap…” I n
