“He’s going to kill you.”
“Nah, he thinks I’m too adorable to kill.”
“You’re probably right.” Angel starts to organize paperwork from last night. “I don’t know how you did it. He hates everyone, but he has a soft spot for you.”
I flash her a smile. “I just have a way about me.”
I skip to his private room and start putting it back together the way he likes it. When I’m finished, I huff. The buzzing of people tattooing is calming. I grab my bag, reaching for my sketchbook before remembering I’m missing it. I could swear that I had it at The Roost last, but I’m pretty fucking forgetful and tend to lose everything. I head back into the lobby.
“Hey, you haven’t happened to see my sketchbook have you?”
Angel takes a look under the counter. “Nah, girl. I don’t see it anywhere. Are you sure you left it here?”
“Probably not. Figured I’d check anyways.” Maybe Penny found it.
“Sorry, sweetie. We all know how attached you are to it. If one of us found it we would keep it safe for you.”
Another thing I love about this place. Everyone accepts that sometimes you just don’t fucking ask questions.
“Everything alright?” Angel tilts her head and furrows her brow with worry. “What’s got you so stressed out, girlie?”
“I’m just not sleeping much.” It’s true. I’m not.
“I could give you some Ambien?” she offers.
“Nah, it’ll sort itself out.” Getting stuck in my nightmares? Hard pass.
“Well, I can close up here tonight. Go home and try to get some sleep. Yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
I like Angel a lot. She’s so sweet, always trying to take care of everyone but herself. It’s a shame her boyfriend is such a jackass. He doesn’t deserve her, but isn’t that how it always works? Amazing women usually don’t realize it, and they end up being dragged behind some sub-par looking asshole who gets whiskey dick and doesn’t appreciate them.
I stop by Late Night. It'll be a peace offering to Penny since I ran off earlier. When I get home, she’s standing in her little studio in our spare bedroom painting something for another class. There’s rap music playing over the speakers. The moment I come in the door she emerges, hands covered in bright colors, and takes a deep breath.
“Is that reconciliation pizza?”
I scrunch my nose in apologetic shame. “It is."
She settles into a barstool next to me at the kitchen counter. “So you’re really okay with me leaving if I land it?”
“First of all.” I pull out some slices and start shoving them into my mouth. “You’ll get it. Second of all, fuck yes. I think it’ll be really fun. I just hate the possibility of Vale being involved. That’s all. You’ll learn a lot.”
“You could go visit everyone while I’m gone?” she suggests.
It's not that I don't care about the people we've left behind, but it's complicated. “We’ll see. I’m starting to gain some clientele, and Prince will be gone by then. I’ll be busy.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“Speaking of work, have you seen my sketchbook?”
She pauses, pursing her lips in thought. “You had it at The Roost, but I didn’t see it when I left. Did you lose it?”
“Yeah.” I see the worried look. I play it off. “It just had some tattoo ideas. It’s fine. They weren’t what I wanted anyways."
“I’m proud of you.” Her support means the world to me. She’s the only person who could say that she’s proud of me and it really mean something. “I’m glad you’re tattooing again. Everyone is.”
I roll my eyes. “So the internship?”