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Authors: Sarah Sorana
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chair,” he said, jerking his head towards the seat in the window, where Snake usually sat.
“Are… are you sure?” Allie asked. “Snake won’t mind?”
“Fuck Snake,” Jan said. “He’s too hungover to work, came in with shaking hands. I told him if he did it again, you’d get his chair ‘til he sobered up.”
Allie nodded, taking a deep breath so her own hands didn’t shake with excitement.
It was set to be a busy day, and she was set to make a fuckload more money if she got to sit in the window. Hell, the novelty alone of a girl in the window would make more men stop by, she expected.
It was the first day of a big rally a few miles outside of town, and the bikers wouldn’t yet be too drunk to come back to town for spur-of-the-moment tattoos.
She went over her supplies, making sure that they were neat and clean. She got to use the better stuff, as the day’s lead artist.
She was a little worried what Snake would say to her when he came back, but he’d know it was on Jan, not on her. It wasn’t like it was her fault he was hungover, and Snake was a bit of an asshole, but not totally unreasonable.
The first customer came in not that long after, and Allie set to work, hunched over a man’s shoulder.
The first few pieces she did were small bits of flash or just meetings to set up more detailed tattoos later on. She worked carefully, never rushing. She was all too aware that what she did would be on someone’s body forever.
Unlike some tattoo artists she’d met, she didn’t try to talk anyone out of a tattoo they asked for. She shrugged and did what they wanted.
Maybe, in a few years, she’d have enough money for ideals like that.
Somehow, she doubted it.
A little after her break, a few men came in. They were large and gruff, and the largest and gruffest seemed to command instant attention from the other men.
Their black leather vests prominently displayed the logo of the local outlaw club, the biker gang who was hosting the rally.
Allie didn’t need Jan’s glare of warning to know to do her very, very best work for these men.
"Looking for some flash?" she asked, giving them a smile. Most of the men so far had been, getting stars or skulls or other work she'd done dozens of times.
The leader shook his head.
"Lookin' for something, maybe the size of a quarter," he said. "Got a pad?"
She quickly gave him a pen and a pad of paper, and he sketched out a simple symbol, taking care with every line.
"Do you all want the same thing?" she asked.
The big man shook his head and rolled up his sleeve, showing her where he already had the symbol underneath a beautifully done tattoo of their cut.
"Can you do this?" he asked, looking her straight in the eyes.
She nodded.
"Can I see that?" she asked, taking the paper back. She quickly sketched the symbol out a dozen times. The first one or two were slightly off, but the last five were perfect.
"I've got it now," she said.
He took the paper from her and looked it over, giving her a sharp nod.
"You first," he grunted to one of the men, who took his place in the chair.
Allie sped him through the paperwork, which, like most people, he signed without reading. She worked quickly and carefully, but it was a simple tattoo and she was done in a matter of minutes.
The larger man's eyebrows raised, but he directed the next man to the chair.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Yeah," said the big man. "I'm not happy with this. I want you to touch it up for me, make the lines a little cleaner."
He stripped to the waist and showed her a tattoo on her back.
She gulped.
"Can you do it?" he demanded.
She looked for Jan to tell her what to do, but the other man was in the back.
"I can do it," she said.
She worked even more carefully on this job than the others. The man didn't seem to be in any particular hurry, and
“Are… are you sure?” Allie asked. “Snake won’t mind?”
“Fuck Snake,” Jan said. “He’s too hungover to work, came in with shaking hands. I told him if he did it again, you’d get his chair ‘til he sobered up.”
Allie nodded, taking a deep breath so her own hands didn’t shake with excitement.
It was set to be a busy day, and she was set to make a fuckload more money if she got to sit in the window. Hell, the novelty alone of a girl in the window would make more men stop by, she expected.
It was the first day of a big rally a few miles outside of town, and the bikers wouldn’t yet be too drunk to come back to town for spur-of-the-moment tattoos.
She went over her supplies, making sure that they were neat and clean. She got to use the better stuff, as the day’s lead artist.
She was a little worried what Snake would say to her when he came back, but he’d know it was on Jan, not on her. It wasn’t like it was her fault he was hungover, and Snake was a bit of an asshole, but not totally unreasonable.
The first customer came in not that long after, and Allie set to work, hunched over a man’s shoulder.
The first few pieces she did were small bits of flash or just meetings to set up more detailed tattoos later on. She worked carefully, never rushing. She was all too aware that what she did would be on someone’s body forever.
Unlike some tattoo artists she’d met, she didn’t try to talk anyone out of a tattoo they asked for. She shrugged and did what they wanted.
Maybe, in a few years, she’d have enough money for ideals like that.
Somehow, she doubted it.
A little after her break, a few men came in. They were large and gruff, and the largest and gruffest seemed to command instant attention from the other men.
Their black leather vests prominently displayed the logo of the local outlaw club, the biker gang who was hosting the rally.
Allie didn’t need Jan’s glare of warning to know to do her very, very best work for these men.
"Looking for some flash?" she asked, giving them a smile. Most of the men so far had been, getting stars or skulls or other work she'd done dozens of times.
The leader shook his head.
"Lookin' for something, maybe the size of a quarter," he said. "Got a pad?"
She quickly gave him a pen and a pad of paper, and he sketched out a simple symbol, taking care with every line.
"Do you all want the same thing?" she asked.
The big man shook his head and rolled up his sleeve, showing her where he already had the symbol underneath a beautifully done tattoo of their cut.
"Can you do this?" he asked, looking her straight in the eyes.
She nodded.
"Can I see that?" she asked, taking the paper back. She quickly sketched the symbol out a dozen times. The first one or two were slightly off, but the last five were perfect.
"I've got it now," she said.
He took the paper from her and looked it over, giving her a sharp nod.
"You first," he grunted to one of the men, who took his place in the chair.
Allie sped him through the paperwork, which, like most people, he signed without reading. She worked quickly and carefully, but it was a simple tattoo and she was done in a matter of minutes.
The larger man's eyebrows raised, but he directed the next man to the chair.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Yeah," said the big man. "I'm not happy with this. I want you to touch it up for me, make the lines a little cleaner."
He stripped to the waist and showed her a tattoo on her back.
She gulped.
"Can you do it?" he demanded.
She looked for Jan to tell her what to do, but the other man was in the back.
"I can do it," she said.
She worked even more carefully on this job than the others. The man didn't seem to be in any particular hurry, and
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