Last Saturday I got my fifth tattoo. Sure, I love my other ones - the eagle was my first one in 2003 to represent my animal spirit, the dragon came next later that year for my "Thunder Spirit". Then earlier this year I got a Bart Simpson in honour of the movie, and a Taz just coz I liked it. But this new tattoo means so much more to me than any of the others. Not only is it the name of one of my idols who I have loved and worshipped ever since I first saw him on Fame Adacemy back in 2002, but it was actually written onto my arm by him last Friday night after one of small gigs. Sure, he thought I was joking for the first five minutes. And he thought I wouldn't go through with it. But now I have a part of him with me forever. Ainslie Henderson. My idol, and my god. And I think that's fantastic.
So what does all that have to do with this story? If I tell you that, it'll take away its charm.
This is just a small piece I wrote earlier this week while I was sat staring at Ainslie's name on my arm. It does continue on from my earlier story "The Stories Of Ryan Evans", but you don't have to read that to understand this. Enjoy.
There's blood on my arm.
I don't know why I'd done it. I mean, technically we'd been separated for three weeks when I went into the shop and bought it. But he's still on my mind.
How could he not be? We've been together for nearly the last year, and the last three weeks without him has been hell.
You know how we got together of course. Everybody knows the story of how The Doctor Troy got his Companion Ryan.
But no one knows the story of how we separated.
Not yet anyway.
I'm guessing he's probably told his sister about what happened. I mean, we've been living together in our own little flat ever since graduation, and when he moved back home... well, you know how Sharpay can get information out of people.
And it was over something stupid.
I totally forgot I'd even applied for it. It was before we got together. Basketball scholarship to a wonderful school in San Francisco.
My acceptance letter.
He saw it and totally freaked out. Wouldn't let me explain, just kept on about how I was going to leave him, how he knew it would happen, that "The Doctor always leaves his companions in the end" - he never said that, but I know that was what he was thinking.
And then the thing that hurt me the most. Saying that I wasn't committed to him as he was to me.
So thats why I was in that shop today, and thats why I done it. And that's why there's blood slowly running down my arm.
I had to do it. I'm hurting too much.
There was a knock at the door and I knew it was him even before I opened the door.
His expression was as blank as it could be, a whole way different to the happy smile I was used to seeing ever since we got together.
"I'm here for the rest of my things." he said quietly, and I just steppped aside and let him in.
I never spoke to him for the whole ten minutes he was in that room packing his suitcase. I just stood in the bathroom, in front of the mirror, trying hard to wash away the blood that was on my arm.
I couldn't let him see it. Not now.
But no matter how hard I thought I'd washed it, there was still blood on my t-shirt sleeve. And when he stood by the bathroom door, saying that he was all done, he saw it.
And I knew straight away he thought back to that last time I had tried to kill myself. And I knew his words to me about that were flowing through his head.
"Troy what have you done?"
I covered the sleeve with my other hand and walked passed him.
"Nothing. If you've got everything, can you just go?" I never looked behind me as I said it, but I could feel him following me into the kitchen.
"Troy you said no matter what happened you would never do that again."
I gripped onto the cabinet top to stop me from turning round.
"It's not what you think Ryan."
I heard him take a few steps into the room, and I had to turn around. It killed me to see his eyes like that.
"I know what's happened between us was bad, but that doesn't mean you have to cut yourself over it."
"Ry, I'm not..." but he didn't let me finish.
"You can't do that to me again Troy."
I tried to walk passed him, but he grabbed my hand and held it.
"Let me see how bad it is."
I tried to jerk out of his grip, but he held strong.
"Stop it Troy." He reached up to move the sleeve. "I don't want you hurting yourself over..."
And he froze as he saw it.
He held onto the sleeve. I thought he would have shouted, or swore, but he just whispered so low I could barely hear it.
"Why did you do that?"
I couldn't meet his eyes. I kept staring at the floor.
"I..." and I couldn't continue.
"Troy, it's beautiful."
And I stared at him, his eyes brighter than they were a few seconds ago.
I felt his finger run along the lines. Kinda tingled.
"When did you do this?"
I let him reach the last line before I spoke.
"Today."
He took his hand away and the sleeve moved back down, covering it.
"I like it."
"I missed you so much. I just had to feel you against me. Even if it was just your name."
He smiled, and it made me smile too.
"I think tattoos are sexy."
"I'm glad you like it, Ry."
He didn't respond. He just reached up to the buttons on his shirt, and undid them halfway down his chest. He pulled one side of the shirt away from him, and there just above his left nipple was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
My name, written in red, with the tail of the Y being longer and reaching down long enough that I knew it ended where his heart lay.
I touched it gently, and softly placed a kiss over the still healing tattoo.
"I got it the day we last spoke." he said as I stood up straight again. "Shar nearly had a heart attack when I told her."
"Does this mean...?" I couldn't say it. I was dreading the answer. What if it was 'no'?
"I think so Troy." And I smiled the hardest I think I ever have. "But I think we need to talk."
The smile was still on my lips as I laid my hand on his face.
"Talking can wait." I kissed his lips quickly. "But first..." And I moved his shirt again to see it better. "I wanna take a closer look at that tattoo."
And I did.
The next morning, that suitcase of his was empty.