Page 89 of Goodbye Note

Arik took off his shirt, standing before the artist and presenting his chest.

The artist held up the drawing. “Which way do you want it.”

Arik turned the paper carefully and held it. “Like this.”

“Great. Let me go make a stencil.” The artist took the paper and went to the back of the shop.

As soon as he was out of hearing range, I spoke, “Where did you get that?”

“I made it.” Arik got this coy curve to his mouth. I wanted to kiss off his face.

“When?” I demanded.

“The day after you drew it. I had Serafin trace it again and again until it was perfect.”

I shook my head, unable to fight the grin quickly taking my face. “Why?”

He lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know what made me do it. But I wanted to keep it.”

“Why are you putting it on your chest?”

“That’s where I want it.” It was so simple and so loaded. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” I stepped closer to him, stealing a moment.

Could we make a lifetime of all these stolen moments? Could it be enough for me? The confused bisexual and the broken one.

“I thought a lot about it.” His voice got thicker, softer. More loaded. “You’re important to me.”

“I better be. I’m about to be tattooed on your body forever.”

“You’ll always be important to me.” He was closer somehow, but I hadn’t noticed either one of us move.

“And you’ll always be important to me.” It hurt to say, because I knew I might not mean it the same way he did. I knew then I’d love him my entire life. Arik would be a more permanent scar on my heart than the one my father gave me on my face and I’d live with it for another night with him. For as many as I could get.

Our hands found each other in the cab ride back, not quite holding but on top of one another.

Kiernan stood outside the bus smoking a cigarette when we got back. He blocked the door. “Cutting it close.”

Arik shrugged unapologetically. “We have five minutes to spare.”

“Sorry about that. My fault,” I said, not wanting to piss off his manager and not be allowed on their bus or something.

“What were you two doing?” Kiernan acted like this was an inquisition.

We’d never been late. It felt unwarranted.

“I got my first tattoo.” Arik pulled down the neck of his shirt to expose the new ink.

Kiernan’s gaze flickered to it. “At least it’s in a place you can hide it.”

Arik stared at him. “What the fuck?”

“You guys are in a really fragile place right now.” Kiernan focused on Arik and stepped closer. “The label is planning a major push and a tour. We don’t want to give them any reason to spook.”

Arik made a face. “What are you saying? It’s a tattoo.”

Kiernan dropped his cig and crushed it under his toe with a sigh. “It’s everything, Arik. This industry is like trying to carry water with your bare hands while threading a needle they keep moving. It’s image and marketability and going against Parents for Clean Music. Look at Eminem. He raps about something, and now he carries responsibility for a generation of delinquents. But the difference is, he’s big enough to weather it. You’re not yet. You have to get there before you can try the system. We need to get this tour booked and more singles to number one, and I want you to recognize that I’m your friend, but I’m also here to wrangle the circus.”

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