Page 6 of Ghost Of You

I freeze, my hand halfway to my wallet. “Are you sure?” I ask, searching her eyes, but she only nods, her gaze dropping to the counter between us.

“It’s the least I can do,” she says, her words thick with an emotion I can’t quite place.

Her face, once always alight with joy, now wears a frown so deep it unsettles me. I’ve known Lola for years—always bright, always cheerful like she had a secret joy she carried everywhere. But today, she’s different, like the weight of something heavy is pressing down on her, and she’s too tired to hold it up anymore.

“Is everything okay?” I ask softly, the concern evident in my voice. Her reaction is instant—a slight widening of her eyes, like I’ve caught her off guard.

“Everything’s fine,” she lies, but the way her voice cracks betrays her. “How are you doing lately, Killian?” she asks, quickly turning the conversation away from herself, tilting her head to the side like she’s trying to read me.

“Same old, same old,” I reply automatically, though my thoughts are still on her. “Nothing new.”

She studies me for a long moment, her eyes flicking over my face as if searching for something hidden. Finally, she hums softly, a sound that feels more like a sigh. “I see,” she says, buther tone is hollow like she doesn’t believe me any more than I believe her.

I want to ask her more, to press until she tells me what’s really going on, but I catch sight of the clock on the wall—8:45 am. Fifteen minutes until I’m supposed to be at work, and I still need to set up. If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late.

“I better run,” I say, a note of regret in my voice as I grab the coffee and doughnut. “I’ve got a client coming shortly.”

“Going to work so soon?” she asks, and the surprise in her voice catches me off guard. That’s when it hits me.

The car accident.

“It’s only a few cuts and bruises,” I say with a light chuckle, trying to brush off the gravity of the situation. “Plus, there’s no rest for the wicked.”

Lola opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off before she can say anything. “Anyways, thank you for the goods! I’ll see you soon!” I give her a quick wave and turn to leave the bakery.

As the door chimes softly behind me, I bring the coffee to my lips and take a careful sip. The warmth of the latte slides down my throat, comforting in a way that feels almost sacred. There’s truly nothing like a latte from Lola’s. Despite Laelia’s skill and dedication, her coffee, though good, never quite matches the essence of Lola’s creations. I’ve told her this countless times, and she always laughs it off, saying I’m cheating on her cup with Lola’s. Even she admits that Lola’s coffee has a certain magic to it.

Walking down the path lined with towering trees and beautifully coloured flowers, I observe a lively scene around me. Dogs trot along, barking enthusiastically at every passer-by, while their owners keep a tight grip on their leashes. People are bustling about, some heading to work, their faces a mix of focus and fatigue. Others are leisurely browsing the colourful windowdisplays that dot the streets, each shop offering a tantalising glimpse of what’s inside.

There’s a vibrant array of options here: clothes that sway gently in the breeze, enticing food that wafts aromas of comfort and delight, drinks that sparkle with promise, and books that seem to whisper stories waiting to be discovered. For a small town, it’s astonishing how it manages to offer so much. The charm of this place lies in its ability to provide everything one might need or desire, all within a few blocks.

As I walk, the energy of the town is noticeable—a mixture of everyday hustle and small moments of joy. The contrast between the simplicity of the surroundings and the complexity of the emotions I’ve just left behind is striking. It’s like a parallel universe, where the usual rhythms of life continue unperturbed, even as my own sense of normalcy feels disrupted.

Despite the vibrant surroundings, a part of me remains caught in the sadness that lingered back at the bakery. The juxtaposition of this lively, almost idyllic scene with the heaviness I feel makes the town seem both comforting and starkly indifferent. The normalcy of daily life here is a reminder that while individual lives may be touched by moments of sorrow or change, the world outside often keeps moving, unchanged.

The town where I live is quaint and not overly bustling, but it offers just enough activity to ensure a steady income. As a self-employed tattoo artist, my role involves transforming clients’ visions into stunning, permanent artwork on their skin. For thirteen years, I’ve been immersed in this craft, and for the past eight years, I’ve had the pleasure of co-owning a tattoo studio with my partner, Ethan.

Our studio’s entrance is marked by a striking black door adorned with vibrant, intricate artwork painted across the windows. We spent countless days meticulously decorating boththe exterior and interior to achieve the look we envisioned—something bold and artistic that would captivate passers-by and invite them to explore further. Our goal was to create an environment that was both colourful and edgy, a true reflection of the creative spirit within.

Initially, we relied on our loyal clientele from previous endeavours, but it didn’t take long for word of mouth to spread about our unique space and exceptional work. Within a few months, our business experienced an incredible surge, and we found ourselves thriving beyond our expectations. The blend of artistic design and personal touch made our studio not just a place to get tattooed, but an experience to be remembered and shared.

As I push open the door, I’m immediately enveloped by the sounds of"Blink of an Eye"by Those Damn Crows, setting an upbeat tone for the day. Ethan is already here, busy preparing the studio for what promises to be another full day of artistry and creativity.

The moment you step inside, you're greeted by the vibrant emerald green walls, adorned with brown wooden boards. These boards showcase our flash designs, each pinned with care and labelled with our names at the top, so clients know exactly who created each piece. To one side of the room, a rich brown leather couch invites clients to relax, while a table in front of it holds four large portfolios, each brimming with examples of our previous work. This setup not only highlights our diverse skills but also serves as a testament to the dedication we pour into every tattoo.

On the opposite side of the room, a sturdy brown counter stands as a focal point. One side is lined with an array of prints available for purchase, offering a glimpse into our artistic range. The other side is stocked with booking forms, where clients can jot down their details and preferred appointment times. Behindthe counter is Sydney, our ever-efficient receptionist. She’s engrossed in sorting through our inbox, which is overflowing with enquiries. Sydney skilfully manages our communication, replying to messages, informing potential clients of our availability, and directing design inquiries to the tattooist best suited for the job. Her role is crucial in ensuring that our workflow remains smooth and our clients receive the attention they deserve.

Sydney, at just twenty-five, has been a vital part of our studio, even though she initially applied for an apprenticeship position to become a tattoo artist. When she first approached us, Ethan had another candidate in mind for the apprentice role. However, Sydney’s undeniable talent and enthusiasm made us reluctant to let her go, so we offered her a position as our receptionist until a suitable apprenticeship slot became available.

Over the past year, Sydney has become more than just a team member; she’s a bright, cheerful presence in the studio. Her personal style is a reflection of her vibrant personality—she consistently wears black and red, accented by her striking purple hair. Sydney is also a devoted pet owner, often bringing her eleven-month-old pug, Chunk, to work. Though Chunk tends to leave a trail of drool wherever he goes, his playful antics bring a smile to everyone’s face.

A recent development has opened up a promising opportunity for Sydney: Alexa, our former apprentice, completed her training last week but had to leave due to family circumstances. With Alexa’s departure, a space has become available for a new apprentice. We’re all hopeful that Sydney will be the one to fill this role. The next step is for one of us to formally approach her about this exciting opportunity, and we’re eager to see her take this well-deserved leap into the world of tattooing.

As I approach Sydney, her bright blue eyes shift from the computer screen to me, and her mouth drops open in surprise. "Killian!" she exclaims, her voice pitched higher than usual.

I smile warmly. "Sydney."

Her eyes widen further. "You’re back already?"