Page 44 of Fox
If this was a problem before, I have no idea what to call it now. Because now I know I’m not the only one crying out forbidden names in the dark. And I don’t think I have it in me to forget what I just heard.
TWENTY
fox
I’ve been in this industry for nearly twenty years. I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, how many times I’ve lost my cool with a client. I’m generally able to defuse the situation relatively quickly.
Today is not one of those days.
It’s the anniversary of my mom and sister’s accident, the day they died, and usually, I handle it a lot better than I am right now. I’ve snapped at everyone today, starting with Janie when she offered me tea because I was out of energy drinks at the house, and she’d forgotten to grab them at the store because she never drinks them. I get it; it slipped her mind, but I chewed her out nonetheless. Then, I get here, and Atlas is bickering with Derek because Atlas is still not talking to Ren, which means he's trying to pick a fight. Then Ash comes in late for his first appointment.
Now, my client sits on my table, and she hates everything I’m offering her.
“What do you think about this?” I try while drawing three circles, indicating the roses over the top of the gold frame of the mirror. The woman cocks her head to look at the paper, and I see it on her face before she speaks; she hates it.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she says softly, as if on the verge of tears. “It’s just not what I was hoping for.”
“It’s exactly what you asked for.” I try to sound pleasant, but I’m losing it. “We’ve had two consultations and—”
“Excuse me,” I feel Janie’s cool hand on my scalding neck, instantly sending a wave of calm through me. “Is everything okay?” The client looks nervously toward me and I back up, allowing Janie to talk to her. Obviously, I’m not tattooing this woman today, so the least I can do is let Torch try and stop a negative review from happening.
“You okay bud?” At asks, following me into the office.
“No,” I grunt before sitting in Tony’s chair. “Just a bad day,”
“Wanna talk about it?” It almost pains him to ask. Rightfully so, because I’m about to hurl this paperweight at his head.
“No, now fuck off.”
Atlas sighs out a “Divvva” before walking out, leaving me alone in the office with nothing but my grief and guilt.
Resting my elbows on the desk, I rub my temples, trying to dull the throbbing in my head. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to no one. I’m not sure who it’s meant for. Tony? Mom? Lacey?
“Damn it.” Slamming my fist on the desk, I force down the sob trying to rise to the surface. I hear papers fall to the ground and look around, finding the culprit. A folder fell from the vibration. I pick the papers and folder up and smirk; they’re drawings that I’m guessing Tony must’ve done over the years. Each one signedPierce. They’re not his typical American Traditional style, but then again, I don’t always draw in realism, even though it’s my specialty. There’s an area of goddesses, battle scenes, and sirens, all of them stunning, and fuck; why didn’t he offer these as tattoos?
Tucking the papers back in the folder, I freeze when I see our logo, the goddess Hel, staring at me. Delicately, I run my fingers over the lines before slamming the folder shut and putting itaway. I’m the man, the leader of this shop. I’m not supposed to break. But he left me. The one person who wasn’t supposed to, the one who made me believe I was worth something. He left, just like everyone else.
“Hey Fox—” Janie freezes in the doorway while I try to cover my face from her.
“Y-Yeah Torch?” I try through my tears. I hadn't meant to start crying.
“Fox,” the door clicks shut and locks before she rushes over to me, falling to her knees in front of me. “What’s wrong?” Her trembling hand reaches my cheek, and I lean into it. I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop.
“Janie,” my voice cracks on her name. “This,” I huff out a laugh. “I don’t want you to see this.”
“Fox, I’ve seen your butthole,” she says, and I choke on a laugh. “This is nothing.”
“It was the cheek, dammit!” I laugh while wiping the tears away.
“Whatever Sim Sloth. Now, what’s going on?” She stands and sits on the desk next to me. She’s so pretty, it’s maddening. She has on light-wash jeans that stop right under her navel, and her off-the-shoulder light pink ruffled crop top stops right above, exposing a delicious sliver of freckled skin.
“It’s a bad day,” is my distracted answer. “Ever have one?”
She’s unimpressed with my attitude. “Fox, I’m beingsofucking nice right now, so try again or I’m going to castrate you.”At this point, castration might be my only option.
“It’s the anniversary of my mom’s and sister’s deaths.” The words escape before I realize I’ve said them. I get ready to snap at her about giving me pity, but she doesn’t. She simply nods.
“Dad used to hang out with you on this day,” her smile is sad when she speaks.
