Hello everyone!
My name is Metch, and I'm a total stranger to the writing world!
Although I have been writing practically since I was able to hold a biro, it's the first story I'm coming out with.
I am a sucker for romance and tattoo's. This chapter is posted without the help of a Beta. If anyone can help me with that, or if you are willing to be my beta, please drop me a PM.
So this is my Inkella you'll meet in this very first chapter. It's meant to be a little introduction to the girl and her surroundings.
I hope you'll enjoy this and please leave me some feedback so I can work out the rest of this story :)
Kisses,
Metch.
Sixteen hours of Ink.
A piece of Twilight fanfiction by Metch
Chapter one: Welcome to Bella's.
It rained as Bella was lazily hanging around in her tiny studio-apartment.
The thoughts of sun-bleached hair, sand between your toes and waves crashing onto rocks in the sea was all she could dream about on this rainy, drowsy New York day.
She resented her mother for trading in the lovely Miami for the crowded jungle of humidity and rain that was New York City.
As she lay onto her couch, which had a patchwork cover made by her old Grandma Swan, she dreamt of someplace warm and fuzzy and hugged herself.
Everything felt very comforting but Bella was seeking some atmosphere. She stepped away from her lazy position on the couch and walked over to the improvised coffee table, build out off old books and a red tray Bella had found on the antique market.
Under the so-called table Bella's searching hands found the cream, cotton basket underneath it. She pulled it out and took a couple of tea lights out of it.
She replaced all the empty lights with new candles and then reached for the lighter on the coffee table.
That's a lot cozier, she thought.
Right at that time, her phone beeped, announcing a new text message.
She grabbed the cell phone from the table and read the message.
It was from Rose, the co-owner of Bella's bar 'Red Dragon Fly'.
Hi Sweets!
I know it's your night off, but Kate just went home sick.
Could you please come and help?
Love, R
Bella immediately felt sorry for Rose. It was the second time in two weeks that Kate abandoned her shift. They were almost through with the girl entirely.
If only it weren't so hard to find decent staff these days, Bella mused and rolled her eyes.
She typed a short, yet friendly reply to her friend and co-worker Rose and went to get ready.
Bella walked over to the partitioning in her studio that marked the sleeping-area.
Behind the black, art-deco room divider there was the king sized bed Bella had been saving up for for about a year. She always dreamt of a bed like this. A bed so big you might as well consider living in it. It was of course, huge and puffy, with feather-filled pillows and blankets. The bedding was black with grey splatters here and there. Then there was the cliché that Bella always wanted, matching black cotton curtains hanging from the bedposts to give it a sultry, mysterious but also cozy touch. Bella spent hours and hours lounging in bed with beers and movies. Of course there was the occasional guy, but nothing more special than that.
She walked over to the little chest of drawers that she had spray-painted all by herself. It had a glossy, dark purplecolor. She pulled open the third drawer. That particular drawer contained most of her work outfits: tank tops or cropped T-shirts from the bar and shorts and trousers. Bella grabbed a black tank that had the logo of the bar on the back, and a pair of ripped skinnies. She also picked out some fresh undies before she walked over to the bathroom.
She liked to leave the door of the bathroom wide open, which created the illusion of more space. But since she was a bit chilly from not moving around, she closed it and turned on her little space heater.
To say the bathroom was small was an understatement. When you entered the tiny room, there was a grey basket organizer containing typical bathroom cutlery on your left. The first basket contained hair ties and clips, along with a make-up bag and a hair brush; the second held the blow-dryer and the last was filled up with towels.
Bella turned on the shower and got undressed. She frowned sadly when she looked into the mirror and her eyes met the little swallow, tattooed on the inside of her left upper-arm. She still hadn't gone back in to finish it.
The plan was having it colored in the most prettiest of powder blues, both for the blues of loss, but also for having her most favorite color on her, the color of her Granma Swan's eyes.
Marie Swan passed away two months ago. A day later, Bella called Garrett Smith –her favorite tattoo designer. She stood on his stoop two hours later, still in her clothes from the day before when she heard the news. She was miserable and make-up stained her pale face.
He hugged her tightly, hushing her like a mother did to her baby when it cried unconditionally.
Garrett was Bella's best friend. He was covered in tattoo's, from head to toe and had the heart of the purest gold on earth. He'd been around for a long time, since she got her nose piercing done three years ago, when Bella visited the Big Apple on an art-relating school trip.
She had just turned eighteen back then, and had been wanting a nose ring forever. What she didn't know back then, is that she was terrified of getting it done and that the tattoo artist was going to have to hold her hand through it.
Bella smiled at her reflection at the memory of that day. Since that day, Bella and Garrett were Facebook friends, exchanged phone numbers and had lovely two-hour phone calls about nothing at all.
To everyone, it seemed like the beginning of a lovely, romantic, hot relationship. Except it wasn't such thing. They were just friends. The best friendship relationship Bella had had since kindergarten.
Now Bella lived in New York, Garrett was around much more often. They saw each other almost every two days and called on the other days. But it had been a week since Bella contacted him.
She was a bit embarrassed about her behavior earlier that week. Bella had known she had two sessions for the swallow, just because Garrett didn't have much time the day after her grandma died. The day of her second session, she went for the Tattoo shop which was only two blocks away. The sign on the door said closed, which was odd because Bella had an appointment. She tried the door, pushed it and it was open.
Strange, she thought.
Curiosity killed the cat, or so the saying goes. Bella went inside the shop and looked around for her blond-haired friend.
Nothing
She heard some noise, coming from the door that led to the stairwell to Garrett's apartment.
There was a groan and Bella thought Garrett might have fallen off of the stairs.
"Garr, you ok-", she said as she opened the door.
She wasn't met by her friend lying immobile onto the stairs, crying out in pain.
Instead, her mouth still wasn't closed as she took in the image of Garrett and a very red-headed girl, fucking on the stairs.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled and just ran off.
She heard Garrett call after her, but it was a long lost cause.
Since then he hadn't called, because he knew how shy Bella could get when it came to being embarrassed. He'd know she'd come around one day.
She had gotten a text from him, saying he was sorry and hoping she'd call him when she got over the sight that must've burned her eyes off of her face.
She laughed aloud at herself and made a mental note to invite him to come over at the bar tonight.
After that, Bella got showered and lathered up in blackberry soap.
All dressed and ready after fifteen minutes, Bella pulled on some socks and sneakers and grabbed her purse from next to the couch.
Ten minutes later, Bella had almost finished the walk to the 'Red Dragon Fly'. It came in handy she and Rosalie found a proper building within maximum of fifteen minutes walking from both of their places. It also appealed to Bella that she didn't have to spend any money on cabs either, so she could save up for her motorcycle.
She put her iPod away in her purse and pulled open the door.
Soooo, what do you think? Should I go on?
x,
Metch