The chocolate haired man gave a smile as he reached his hand out, grasping the red inked needle. He looked at his artwork, chuckling lightly as he drew the red over some lines. One red part here, one red part there. He began to turn off the red one, nodding. "How's that?" He asked.
"That's...beautiful, Dan." A voice spoke softly. A girl with blue hair was looking at her arm in the mirror.
The one she called Dan gave a nod. "I know." He laughed, watching as she stood. "Don't forget to put the creme on it so it doesn't irritate you." He explained, nodding at her.
The girl gave a small smile, nodding. "I think I'm in love with it." She laughed, running her fingers over the design.
Dan nodded. It was usual for people to say that about his artwork. Yes, he was an artist. His palate was ink needles. His canvases were the customers that wanted artwork on them. He was a tattooist. A bloody good one at that.
He was part of a huge tattooing industry. The building he worked in was huge and really busy. They ended up extending just a couple weeks ago. People really loved art on their skin. People also really loved how the tattooists looked. Dan was a popular one for both his looks and artwork.
It was hilarious to Dan. Whenever a girl hit on him, one of the co-workers will notice and casually say, "He's too queer to care for you." And it was true. Dan was in fact gay. No one really cared much. If they did, Dan just said, "We're not in the '80s anymore, it's perfectly okay." If they put up an argument, he almost always won.
The blue haired girl smiled, winking at her artist. "Do you paint on canvas?"
Dan shoved his hands in his black skinny jean pockets and did a half assed shrug. "I thought about it a couple times."
"You could make good money off of it." The girl said, reaching into either silver pocket book. She pulled out a card and handed it to him. "Call her whenever you want to start." With that, she left.
Dan looked at the business card, running his free hand through his hair. He shoved it in his pocket, shaking his head. He wasn't going to take another job. Right now, he was working two. His tattoo one and his piano one.
Things weren't all that well for Dan. Because this industry was so big, he had been asked to move to a building into a small town with two others. He agreed. They all found a small apartment to live in near the town, so he's been saving up a lot. It's been putting a lot of pressure on him. He would have to leave all his friends and start fresh at a small building.
When he heard about the small area he'd be moving to, it didn't make him better. Most of the shops there were antiques and small fashion districts. He was going to move next to a floristry. He hated the thought of that. It's going to be hard for him to find good customers.
"Dan!" A boy walking up to Dan interrupted his thoughts. A dark, lanky man was striding up to the young tattooist. He was smiling as he waved. Dan smiled and waved back.
"Hey, Dave!" He said back, chuckling lightly.
Dave was one of Dan's good friends. He was tan skinned man with a lanky build. He had tons of cute freckles and was just an attractive man overall. Ladies loved his personality and his half-shaved, short blonde curly hair. He had bright hazel eyes to go with it. Overall, he was a popular lad because of his looks, and he was chill with it. Once he was right in front of Dan, he smiled, shoving his hand in his front jean pocket. "Dan, mate, how's it been?"
Dan gave a slight shrug, glancing at his left, completely covered arm before talking. "It's been okay, I guess."
"Don't look so down! Look, I know you're moving areas and all, so I decided on something." Dave smiled, taking his hands out of his pockets and opening them wide. "We'll have a huge party tonight!" Before Dan could say anything, Dave spoke again. "I know it's a bit crazy since you're just moving towns, but think about it Dan; this could be our last night to get hammered together in a long time!" He said, putting emphasis on the "long".
Dan shrugged. "I suppose you're right. Okay, it's a deal." Once he decided, Dave began to whoop very loudly, turning around to all the people in the parlor.
"Do you hear that everyone?! My mate, Daniel James Howell, and I are throwing a huge party for him tonight!" Almost everyone in the room began to clap and cheer loudly.
Dan chuckles nervously as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Once Dave turned back around to face him, he spoke again. " I take it that's not all you came in here for?"
"Oh, right," Dave mumbled, glancing around before speaking again. He was half-whispering. "Dan, we need to speak privately," before Dan could ask anything, Dave stood back up and cleared his throat. "But since we're throwing that party now, I'll tell you then! I have to go get ready now! See ya, mate!" He called as he began to turn around and walk off.
Dan scoffed as his friend walks away from the parlor. That was a classic Dave. Comes in for something, leaves with something else.
He turned back around once he heard the sound of Dave walking out. He had to do some art projects that were awaiting him, how lovely.
•••
Dan sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his annoying fringe. Once he felt like it was perfect, Dan walked out of his bedroom, sighing lightly. Why did he agree to Dave's idea? He was tired for working so late.
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and began to walk out of his small apartment. As he closed the door to leave behind him, he opened the pack and pulled out a fresh cigarette, sticking it in his mouth and putting the box back in his pocket.
He began to walk out of the small apartment complex, pulling out a lighter and lighting up his smoke. He breathed in, put the lighter away, drew his cigarette out of mouth and breathed all the smoke out into the air. The taste of the "stale coffee" as he described it filled his mouth as he kept breathing in and out, in and out.
After repeating what he was doing for a couple more times, Dan was finally out of the shitty complex. Dave was just across the street. Should he back out?
He sighed. It was too late to. He would just have to do in and get drunk and/or high tonight. Dan always did this to himself. He never liked socializing, he was just too kind to back out of things like what Dave plans. Once the busy street was clear for a minute, he ran across, making sure the area around him was clear of people as well. He hated the way he ran.
Sighing, Dan blew out another puff of smoke, beginning to walk further down the pavement. He was humming lightly to himself as he walked alone to his friend's party. Should he even call Dave his friend?
The sound of dance music grew louder as Dan kept walking. He sighed to himself as he blew in the last bit of his smoke. He blew it out quickly, stopping himself at a big, noisy apartment complex. This one was much better than his. Dan three his now dead cigarette onto the ground and walked into the building.
The music grew louder as Dan walked through the complex. Dave's neighbors didn't care about his parties. Well, no one did. Everyone around where Dave lived spent everyday getting high. No one cared about anything around this part.
Dan stopped at the door where it was literally shaking with every sound of the bass dropping. He didn't even knock. He just lit another cigarette and walked in.
The room was dark, but that was okay because there were tons of different colored flashing lights to go with the music. The smell of cheap alcohol, smoke, and pot was strong. Dan never really liked these parties, but it was too late. He looked around for Dave, sighing. Didn't he have something to tell the tattooist? He was too lazy to walk around and try to find his friend, so he was just going to give up and chose a corner to stand in. He found a empty looking one and begin to stride over to it.
"Dan! Dan!" The sound of a slightly drunk Dave made Dan tense up. He immediately relaxed once he turned around, seeing the lad with ladies hooked on his arms. Classic drunk Dave.
Dan gave a small wave, quickly drawing his cigarette out of mouth and puffing the smoke out. His brown eyes met the slightly intoxicated hazel ones before Dave broke the silence between the two. "I thought you weren't coming, mate!" Dave laughed.
Dan shrugged. "Here I am," He spoke nonchalantly over the loud dance music. "What did you want to tell me?"
The blonde haired man laughed lightly, leaning into Dan's face, who tried to back away. "Why don't you stay awhile, Daniel? Have a drink or two. Don't be all about business tonight!"
Dan wrinkled his nose as he put the cigarette back in his mouth. Dave wasn't slightly drunk. He was close to hammered. Perfect. His breath smelled of brandy and an assortment of shots, he called Dan "Daniel" -which no one calls him-, and the look on his eyes completely gave it away.
"Actually," Dan started, staring at the whores on Dave's arms. "That's all I came here for."
Dave was silent for a minute or two. Maybe five. Dan lost count due to the awkward tension. He looked around for a distraction until Dave spoke again. "Right, ok. Dan, have a drink or two. Find me when you're drunk, I'll tell you what I've been meaning to." He laughed, turning around. He began to stride off, leaving the tattooist behind.
Dan clenched his fist, watching his friend go further and further into the crowd. He began to follow Dave, wincing as the music grew even louder near the crowd. The smell of smoke attacked his nose. He couldn't tell if it was him by not drawing his cigarette out of his mouth or the other smokers around him. All that he knew was that he now lost Dave. He huffed angrily, finally drawing the cigarette and puffing the held in smoke out.
His eyes kept darting left and right, scanning the crowd for the curly haired lad. Abruptly, something brushed against his back, causing Dan to jump two feet ahead of him. The sound of laughing made him turn around. As soon as he did, weed attacked his nose, causing his eyes to water. He grumbled curses beneath his breath, rubbing his irritated eyes. A girl with vibrant pink hair was in front of him, laughing.
"I'm so sorry, man. I didn't know you were sensitive to people bumping into you." She snorted, stuffing her blunt into her mouth. Dan started at her, backing up.
"Nono, I'm sorry for being in your way." He mumbled, quickly shaking his head. Talking to a pothead won't help him find Dave. He turned his head to the left, about to walk away from the druggie that was talking nonsense now.
The girl seemed to see his movements and stopped talking. The swayed to music of The 1975 as she spoke up again. "Hey, who are you looking for, love?"
Dan turned his head to her, running a Hand through his fringe. "No one."
"A girl?"
"Two. And some guy they're clinging on. It's Dave, the host of this ridiculousness."
"Oh, you're looking for Dave? What an interesting choice you have in men."
"I'm not-" Dan cut himself off, immediately thinking of past boyfriends " Okay, whatever. Do you know where he is or not?"
"I don't even know him." The girl began laughing, handing Dan the almost used up blunt. "Here. It calms you down like crazy, it's pretty rad."
The tattooist shook his head almost immediately. "Weed is dumb. It stinks and I always pass out when I smoke it." He explained, leaving the girl as soon as he did.
•••
It took Dan another hour before he found Dave again. He took a couple shots to drink away his anger, so he was a bit tipsy. Maybe he was hammered. He didn't know.
Dave was in a whole other room, half getting a lap dance, half playing some racing game on his shitty xbox. When Dan walked in, he was kinda disgusted by the girl trying to get Dave's attention. Not saying a word, he just walked over to where Dave was and took a seat on his old couch. He watched the TV, bored within the first five seconds of doing so. The song blasting through the walls slowly faded into a techno song as Dan spoke.
"Stoned or hammered?" He asked Dave, leaning back as his eyes left the screen and locked onto The dancing girl.
"A little bit of both," Dave snorted, dismissing the girl. "What about you?"
Once she stopped dancing, had a short pout, and left the room, the song changed to some trap music and Dan spoke again, "Tipsy. I think."
Dave gave a small nod, pausing his game to look at Dan better. He turned his head, his hazel eyes meeting Dan's brown ones. "Dan, I need to talk to you."
"That's the only reason why I came into your room. By the way, it smells like piss in here." Dan pointed out, running a hand through his hair. "What's wrong, David?"
"Well, Daniel. You have two jobs," Dave started, reaching down to pick at the cheap material of his couch.
"Well, I'm about to move out and go into a small town to help the tattooing company, so I quit my second job just earlier today. Where are you getting at?"
"Well, okay but before you quit, two jobs means two different paychecks. Two different paychecks means you have more money. That means-"
"Dave, it sounds like you're trying to confirm the illuminati on me. Get to the damn point." Dan scoffed out, having an idea of what Dave wanted.
Dave sighed lightly. "I'm three months behind rent, Dan. I need help." He spoke with a slur, but Dan got the idea.
He just sat there, staring at his high, drunk friend who wanted hands on his money for drugs. Dave could give two shits about rent. He sighed quietly, looking away from Dave. "No,"
"...no?"
"I've fallen for the rent trick many times. I need my money this time, Dave. I need you to stop trying to take it from me."
"Dan-" Dave cut himself off, watching as Dan stood to his feet.
"I'm moving out of here, Dave. I'm going to a smaller town. I need that money so I can find a reasonably priced apartment."
"Dan."
"Yeah, I'm going to have leftover money. But that's too but some things for the parlor. I can't just have a cold, bare parlor."
"Dan."
"What?" Dan looked at Dave, who stood up as well, and crossed his arms.
"Please," Dan just realized that the song playing was now a upbeat one by twenty one pilots. He's wasting time if five different songs played. He stared at Dave, who just looked back at him, pleading.
Dan shook his head. "No, I think I'm done with your bullshit. Stop asking me for money." He turned around to walk out of Dave's room.
Dave grabbed his arm, causing Dan to turn around. Once he did, that's when Dave swung. It came to Dan in slow motion, yet too fast for him to avoid and soon there was a pain on his cheek. Dan widened his eyes at Dave. "I never knew I had it in you." He snorted.
And then they were fighting. Dan was not that into it. He thought his first fight would be better than this, but he was just punching a stoned, hammered lad. Dan almost laughed at the lyrics blasting through the paper thin walls.
You fell asleep in my
Car, I drove the whole time
But that's okay I'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine.
Dan was then pinned to a wall, grimacing at Dave's sharp grip on his shoulders. Also, his breath reeked.
I'm driving here I sit
Curing my government
For not using my taxes to fill holes with more cement.
Dan quickly banged his forehead against Dave's, causing the drunk to back up and fall over his own feet. Dan used this moment to run over to the exit of the room. "Don't ask me for money again," he spat at Dave, ignoring the huge migraine he was getting as he walked back out into the party.
He quickly made his way to the exit, humming the same lyrics softly. Once Dan made it to the exit of Dave's apartment. He sighed loudly as he leaned against the closed door. He reached into his pocket for his cigarettes, smiling as he grabbed one from the box. He made a mental note to buy more soon as he lit his fourth one that night.
With a quick inhale, draw out, exhale, put back process, he made his way back home.
As he was walking down the street, he smiled.
No more second job, no more Dave, no more boring life. He got to start fresh as of tomorrow morning. For once, Dan felt fresh and new.