Chapter 13

13

The tattoo shop was buzzing with activity, the hum of the machines and the low murmur of conversations creating a lively backdrop. My station was a whirlwind of color and energy as clients came and went, each one bringing their own stories and requests. I thrived in the artful disorder, enjoying the creative flow that came with each new design.

By midday, the shop was packed. Clients filled every chair, and the air was thick with the smell of ink and antiseptic. I had just finished an elaborate sleeve for a client and was wiping down my station when the next client walked in. He was striking—tall, well-built, with a chiseled jawline and a confident stride. His name was Riley, and he had a smile that seemed to light up the room.

"Hey there," Riley said, his voice smooth and easy. "I'm here for my appointment. Heard you're the best in town. "

I couldn't help but beam at the compliment, gesturing for him to take a seat. "Thanks, Riley, was it? I'll do my best to live up to the hype. What are we working on today?"

I glanced at the sketch he slid across the counter, taking in the details. "Just a simple piece, but I'd love to chat while you work," he said, his gaze flickering over my tattoos. "You seem like you have some interesting stories."

For once, I didn't feel repulsed.

As I set up my workstation, I couldn't help but feel a mix of wariness and curiosity at his flirtation. My instincts were usually spot-on, and while he was undeniably charming, I wasn't picking up any creepy vibes from him. He seemed genuine, but the past had taught me to tread carefully.

I chuckled softly, trying to balance my professional demeanor with the faint flutter of interest. It wouldn't hurt to flirt back a little, right? Just adding a little fun to my day. "Well, I do have a few tales up my sleeve, but I'll save those for when you're in the chair." I motioned for him to join me, feeling a reluctant smile creep onto my face.

As he moved closer, I focused on preparing my supplies, keeping my movements efficient and deliberate. I wanted to maintain a level of professionalism, even as a small part of me was intrigued by the man behind the sketch.

"Alright, let's get started," I said, motioning for him to take a seat. "Just remember, you're in for some serious tattoo therapy." The words hung in the air, lighthearted.

He gave me a dimpled smile and sat down.

As the needle buzzed to life and I began working on his tattoo, Riley's charm was hard to ignore. He made casual conversation, asking about my work and personal life, and I answered with a light-hearted tone. Although I was enjoying the attention, I wasn't feeling a genuine spark. His flirting was flattering but didn't really resonate with me.

Riley leaned back, a playful grin on his face. "How about we grab a drink after this? There's a new bar downtown I've been dying to check out."

I returned his smile, trying to keep the mood light. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm pretty tied up with work and other commitments right now."

And it wasn't an excuse, it was the truth.

He didn't seem deterred. "How about another time, then? I'd love to get to know you better. What do you say?"

I shook my head gently, maintaining my friendly demeanor. "I'm flattered, but I'm not looking to date anyone at the moment. Thanks for understanding."

Riley's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Alright, well, if you ever change your mind, you have my information."

I kept my face friendly, neither nodding or shaking my head.

As Riley prepared to leave—leaving me a very, very generous tip—I waved him off with a smile, feeling a sense of relief mixed with the satisfaction of a job well done. The shop started to quiet down a bit, and I took the opportunity to clean up my area thoroughly.

Chivonn was finishing up with a client at the next station. As soon as Riley was out of the store and driven away, she walked over, a curious look on her face.

"Girl, what's the deal with you?" Chivonn asked, raising an eyebrow. "That guy was a total catch. I thought you'd be all over that."

Just then, Jake strolled by, overhearing Chivonn's comment. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a teasing smirk on his face. "Chivonn, how would you even know what the guy looked like if you had your head down, concentrating on your client the entire time?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "I'm a professional, Jake. I can multitask. It's what I do. A girl's got to keep some ninja skills up her sleeve."

Sam laughed, piping in from the other side of the shop. "Multitasking? More like you're making it way too complicated."

"Whatever, Sam, you stay out of this." Chivonn turned back toward me. "He was totally into you! You should've at least flirted back a little harder."

"That kind of flirting leads to complications," I replied, trying to sound more authoritative than I felt. "And I'm not looking to complicate my life further."

"Oh, come on. A little harmless flirtation never hurt anyone," Jake chuckled, shoving a snack in his mouth. "You can always practice on me, you know." He wagged his eyebrows and I stifled a laugh.

"You were just waiting for that opportunity, weren't you, Jake," Sam chuckled, wiping his client's arm.

I shot Jake a playful glare. "I don't want to practice flirting with you, you're practically like a brother to me. And I'm not trying to make you cheat on your plants."

Chivonn burst out laughing, and even Jake smirked, shaking his head. "Alright, fair point. But you could use some practice. Just saying!"

I shook my head, half-amused and half-annoyed. "You're all ridiculous. But thanks for the vote of confidence."

Chivonn leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. "Seriously, Mae. You never know where it might lead. It could at least be fun."

"Fun? What's that?" I replied dryly. "I'm not sure that's in my current vocabulary."

I shrugged, wiping down my station and trying to act nonchalant as my coworkers continued to banter about their own struggling love lives.

"He was definitely not hard on the eyes, but I didn't feel a connection. Just because someone's attractive doesn't mean I have to be interested," I threw out to them all.

Chivonn looked at me with disbelief. "Seriously? You had a hot guy practically throwing himself at you, and you just turned him down? I thought you'd be into that kind of distraction after… you know."

"Know what? What am I missing?" Jake interjected with a frown.

I chuckled, shaking my head, ignoring Jake. "I'm just not into him. It's important to me that there's more than just physical attraction. I need to feel a genuine connection, something deeper, and I didn't get that from him."

"Sam, what am I missing over here?" Jake interjected again.

"Heck if I know," answered Sam before he addressed his client again. "Alright, man, I'll see you at the next session. It should be our last one."

Chivonn studied me for a moment, then sighed. "It's your call, boo. But don't be surprised if the next hot guy who comes in here gets your attention. Dry spells can only go for so long, especially when external circumstances get you frustrated, if you know what I mean."

I laughed, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. She knew as well as I did that if things got that bad, I could always self pleasure myself. "We'll see."

Chivonn shook her head with a smirk. "Alright, if you say so. But remember, if you ever want to change your mind, I'm always here to give you a nudge… in exchange for some juicy deets of course."

"Ugh. No. Nah. Stop right there," Jake held his hands up dramatically as if at gunpoint.

"This is exactly why you should stay out of their conversation, Jake," Sam chimed in, giving him a friendly pat on the back as he walked by. "Being too nosy might land you in the middle of something you really don't want to deal with, like dick pics."

Just then, the door swung open again, and a delivery person burst in, shouting, "I got a pizza delivery addressed to Inklusive Studios. "

"Did someone order food without me?" Chivonn exclaimed, hands on her hips.

"Without you? You mean, for you. For us." Jake wrapped his arms around Chivonn's shoulders with a triumphant grin. "I did it for the team since we've been working so hard."

Chivonn rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "You just wanted an excuse to indulge, didn't you?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted, winking.

Later that evening, after a long day at the studio, I found myself sprawled on my couch. With a sigh, I grabbed my laptop and decided to dive back into my search for the pendant's origins. I felt a pull, as if it held answers I desperately needed.

I opened the browser and typed in keywords like "ancient Asian myths," "cultural legends," and "symbolism of pendants." The screen filled with links, images, and articles, each one drawing me deeper into a world I hadn't anticipated.

I skimmed through tales of gods and legendary creatures, the stories unfolded like intricate tapestries. There were tales of celestial beings descending to Earth, of ancient heroes fighting against dark forces, and of mythical creatures that could shape-shift and manipulate fate. Each legend seemed to resonate with something deep within me, stirring emotions I couldn't quite place.

One story in particular caught my eye—an ancient legend about the Karura warriors, fire breathing bird-like deities known to feed on dragons. Good grief, I never knew anything could feed on dragons. They embodied strength and vigilance, recruited as guardians of something known as Eight classes.

Images of their statues and fan art interrupted my research, bringing back memories of the last large back piece I did for not-so-creepy-anymore Joel.

But time slipped away as I navigated through pages filled with vibrant illustrations and poetic prose. The dim light of my living room flickered while I lost myself in different ancient worlds, and as the hours passed, fatigue began to seep into my bones.

Eventually, my eyelids grew heavy, and I found myself leaning against the couch, the glow of the laptop illuminating the room like a beacon. The stories began to blur, the lines of text melting into a hazy dreamscape while I surrendered to sleep.

I awoke with a start, blinking against the bright screen of my laptop. It was still open, a cascade of tabs reflecting the weight of my nighttime exploration. The clock on the wall showed it was well past midnight. Rubbing my eyes, I realized I had dozed off, the laptop screen casting strange shadows on the walls.

A wave of embarrassment washed over me. "Really, Mae? What are we, back in high school staying up late doing homework?" I muttered, shaking my head. I closed the laptop, the lingering images of mythical creatures swirling in my mind, their stories still beckoning me to uncover more. But for now, I had to acknowledge the exhaustion that had finally caught up with me.

I stood up, stretching out the tension in my muscles, and made my way to bed. The enchantment of the legends still clung to me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was on the brink of something—something that might just connect the threads of my dreams to the reality of my waking life. Settling into bed, I wondered what awaited me on the other side of sleep.

The rest of the night to the early morning was a restless one. I tossed and turned, the images from my dreams intertwining with fragments of a past I couldn't fully grasp. The darkness of my room was occasionally pierced by the flash of unsettling memories, their meanings obscure and troubling. In my dreams, I saw myself in another time—clad in traditional clothing from another country, surrounded by figures whose faces were both familiar and alien. I felt a profound sense of dread, as if I were trapped in a world that wasn't my own, struggling to escape from an oppressive force.

…and the flames.

I jolted awake, my heart pounding and sweat clinging to my skin. The room was dark and silent, a stark contrast to the chaos of my dreams. I sat up in bed, gasping for breath, trying to make sense of the disorienting images that had plagued my sleep. The remnants of the nightmare lingered, leaving me with a sense of unease that refused to dissipate .

Dragging myself out of bed, I tried to shake off the lingering fear. Despite my efforts, the unsettling feeling followed me when I prepared for work after three cups of coffee. I couldn't shake the disquiet that seemed to cling to me, making every routine task feel heavier than usual. The sense of familiarity and strangeness from my dreams remained, like a fog that obscured my usual clarity.

At the tattoo shop, the hustle and bustle of a busy day did little to distract me. I struggled to focus on the clients and their requests, the vague memories from my nightmare intruding on my thoughts. My hands moved mechanically, but my mind was miles away, tangled in the remnants of a past I couldn't comprehend.

Chivonn, ever perceptive, noticed my distraction as she worked beside me. "Hey, Mae, you okay? You seem off today. You look like you're about to pass out."

I managed a weak smile, trying to brush off her concern. "I'm just tired, Chivonn. Didn't sleep well."

She didn't look convinced, her eyes filled with genuine worry. "You don't look well at all. Maybe you should head home early. I can handle things here, reschedule your appointments. You need to take care of yourself."

I hesitated, but the concern in her voice and the nagging sense of exhaustion convinced me. "Alright, if you're sure. Thanks, Chivonn. Let the boss know, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

I left the shop, my mind still preoccupied with the fragments of my nightmare. The dreamlike haze followed me when I walked to my car, but I was abruptly jolted out of my thoughts when I saw a familiar figure leaning against a sleek, black sports car parked nearby.

The sight of him made my stomach churn with a mix of anxiety and anger. He straightened up as he saw me, his eyes narrowing with a predatory glint.

"Mae," he said, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge. "You look like you're having a rough day."

I tried to keep my composure. "I don't want to see you."

His expression darkened, and he took a step closer. "I've been patient, but this is getting old. I'm not going to let you ignore me forever."

I took a step back instinctively, my heart racing. "I've made it clear that I don't want anything to do with you. Leave me alone."

He grabbed my arm with a grip that was both firm and menacing as he jerked me closer to him and lowered his voice. "You think you can walk away and not face the consequences? If you don't come back to me, I'll make sure your family suffers. I know how much they mean to you. Don't test me."

Fear washed over me, my resolve faltering. "You wouldn't?—"

He cut me off, his voice cold and unyielding as he gave me a wicked grin. "Try me. I'll do whatever it takes to get you back."

"Hey! Get your hands off her. Now," Jake growled from behind me.

With that, Kaito released me, his eyes filled with a cruel satisfaction. I watched as he got into his car and drove off, the sleek vehicle disappearing around the corner with a roar.

"Mae, are you alri?—"

"I'm fine. Thank you. You can go back inside. I'm alright. I'm just going to head home, okay?" My legs felt weak, and tears stung my eyes as I stumbled to my car, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I didn't want Jake to see me rattled like this. He didn't need to be involved in this mess.

The drive home was a blur of emotion. The nightmare, the confrontation with my ex, and the sense of helplessness all mixed together, creating a storm of anguish within me. I pulled into my driveway, barely registering the familiar surroundings.

Inside my house, I collapsed onto the couch, clutching the pendant I had kept from my parent's house. The cool metal felt soothing against my skin, and I rubbed it absentmindedly, letting the tears flow. The pendant, a small, enigmatic piece of jewelry, seemed to hold an elusive connection to the past—a past that felt both distant and painfully relevant.

I cried, wondering if Kaito broke something inside of me, if that was why I never seemed to connect deeply with anyone since our breakup. My attempts at relationships, both past and present, felt superficial and unfulfilling. Kaito was the longest relationship I ever had, as tumultuous as it was. My parent's voices float into my mind, speaking of not wanting me to be alone in this world.

Was I always destined to feel this strange disconnect, or was there something more profound that I was missing? The weight of obligation and duty, the pressure to honor family expectations, combined with the threat from my ex and the haunting memories from my nightmare, crashed down on me in my exhausted state. I felt trapped and alone, struggling to find a way forward.

Just when I thought I might regain my footing, an unexpected wave of despair washed over me like a typhoon, suffocating me. It felt like a thick fog enveloping my thoughts, making it hard to breathe as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was standing on the precipice of something important, yet utterly beyond my reach because of all the uncontrollable circumstances of my life.

Why am I having these dreams now? What did they mean?

The thought of my parents' disappointment tightened in my chest like a vise, and I was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that no matter how hard I tried, there were parts of my identity they might never understand. My eyes burned, trying to hold myself together, wondering if what was wrong with me, and if I truly lost it. I was usually more in control of my emotions than this.

Eventually, the tears subsided, and I found myself staring at the pendant.

As the night dragged on, the quiet hum of my laptop felt like a mockery of my internal turmoil. I closed my eyes, willing the despair to pass, but it clung to me like a shadow. I felt adrift, caught between two worlds—one that expected me to follow a path laid out by others and another that whispered of possibilities I could barely grasp.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back on my couch, letting the darkness seep in. It was in that moment of surrender that sleep finally took me, the weight of my worries folding into the quiet of the night.