Ch.9 - Don't You Wish You Had Paid Attention in Spanish Class Now, Motherfucker

Chapter 9

The buzz of the inking machine was like music to Frank's ears. He felt the adrenaline pump through his veins as the ink was inserted into his skin, as his pores were filled with color. It was an addiction he couldn't get rid of, like a drug that got him high for all the right reasons, and it never really went away.

Frank couldn't wait until he turned eighteen and could legally acquire all of the tattoos he desired. For then, though, he had to settle with the few around his legs and the pumpkin on his back, which were pretty much invisible --to his parents, that is. Frank really didn't give a shit if someone found out about his tattoos, as long as the fact didn't land in the wrong hands, also known as anyone who would tell his parents. That would not be good.

Some kids around school did know about Frank's secret ink, since whenever he had P.E. students were basically forced to use these ugly blue shorts, and his shins were free to be seen. Luckily, no one had reported his parents, because no one really knew Frank that well.

Nathan and Delilah were cool with it, and promised not to tell his parents, even though he only saw them in school hours and at the cinema, but it was the thought that counted.

Teachers at school didn't see them, aside from the gym teacher, who had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, so Frank was completely safe in there.

Though it sucked dick that he was only able to get tattooed in strategically invisible places, he loved getting them, even if they had to be so far up his thigh it was almost the hip. And he only ever got tattooed by Octavia, since he was underage, and places as personal as his hips (which required his shorts to be pulled down a bit) required someone who wasn't a complete stranger to be tattooed. Besides, as aforementioned, Octavia loved tattooing on anyone, and although she did work somewhere where she tattooed daily, she gave Frank the ink he wanted in exchange for a few bills.

Frank had the best friends.

So that was where he was lying down then: in the tattooing chair where Octavia worked, down on his back with his elbows propping him up so he could see as the lines slowly appeared on his stomach when Octavia wiped the excess ink off.

She honestly looked like a professional, with her blue gloves on, moving swiftly between Frank's skin and the little cap which contained the black ink being used. Her lime green hair was even pulled back into a ponytail, though with stray hairs framing her face, and the bright lighting in the room made her sleeve shine. Her sleeve fucking rocked: it was ocean-themed, or something, complete with pirate ships, mermaids, waves everywhere, sharks, starfish, all done in bright colors just like the rest of her ink.

Frank flinched from time to time when Octavia had to bring the needle on the lowest spots closest to his lower half, since the tender skin was located there, but he was managing quite fine.

Pencil said he was going to support Frank, but honestly, he was just sitting backwards in a spinning chair and rolling like that from wall to wall, talking to Frank and Octavia and occasionally rolling his chair closer to where Frank was lying to take a look at the tattoo. Currently, he was talking their ears off about this chick who came from India or some shit and how she was so pretty and how her accent and how blah, blah, blah; Octavia rarely stopped paying attention to the tattoo she was working on, and Frank couldn't really complain, since he himself usually talked about Gerard.

"You guys don't fucking get it, she's just so damn gorgeous, and her hijab, okay, can we just pause and marvel at her beauty because Maia is out of this fucking world, like I wanna personally go to her house and thank her parents, or like her grandparents, because her genes must be blessed, I don't even understand how someone so cute can even exist," Pencil rambled, launching himself on the chair back and forth.

Frank rolled his eyes from his position, "We haven't even seen her, can you like show us a picture or something, dude?"

"Okay, okay, I think I got her Twitter somewhere," Pencil immediately said, fishing in his pockets to try and find his phone. When he finally found it, he got off the chair, stumbling a little bit from the dizziness of going back and forth, and, scrolling and tapping at his phone's screen, he made his way to Frank.

When he handed the phone to Frank, he had to admit he was right. On the picture in front of him was a dark-skinned girl, wearing a black hijab that covered her head and shoulders, and under her thick eyebrows, her surprisingly blue eyes stared back at him. She had one shoulder raised slightly more than the other, and her manicured fingers were splayed against her jaw and cheek, looking mildly cute as she smiled at the camera like she held a secret no one knew. And this girl was sixteen? She looked at least nineteen, damn. Her lips were painted a dark red, as well as her perfectly-shaped nails; Frank nodded as he stretched the phone towards Octavia, who paused from the ink to look at the picture for a brief second.

"Damn," She simply said, and then went back to work, dipping the needle in the black ink. Frank then gave the phone back to Pencil.

"What 'Tavia said, man. And you say she's sixteen? If I wasn't with Gerard I'd definitely go after her, nice choice, man. So, tell me again why the fuck you haven't asked her out yet?"

Pencil sighed sadly, resuming his position on the chair, though this time he started spinning from side to side next to where Frank was sitting, "Isn't it obvious?"

Frank raised an eyebrow, wincing slightly when Octavia went over a line again.

"Well, she's her, she's fucking pretty as fucking fuck, and I'm just a smelly dude with glasses who gets allergies like every other day from like cats, flowers, fucking broccoli, I swear I'm allergic to the sunlight or something. I bet her hobbies are like being adorable and giggling, while I just stay home on Friday night and masturbate to Radiohead and wipe my hand off on my sheets because I'm too lazy to get a tissue--"

Octavia snorted a laugh, and then continued trying to stifle her chuckles as she gathered more ink on the tip of the tattooing machine. Frank grinned at her, even though she wasn't paying attention, and then grinned at Pencil instead, who gave him an annoyed look.

"I'm the dude who's still a virgin and can't get a date, I can't even get a passing grade on Science, and I'm always fucking muddy, like it doesn't even rain but somehow my shorts get mud on them, can you explain that? Because I certainly can't; fucking mud,"

"You forgot you're smelly,"

Frank barked a laugh.

"Hey fuck you guys, honestly,"

"Dude, just ask her out! She says no, cool, bye Maia, you'll find someone new to obsess over, and if she says yes, hey, you might get some more action than your right hand and Enema Of the State, motherfucker. Give it a try, invite her to the movies or some shit,"

Pencil narrowed his eyes at Frank, "Yeah, I'll take her to the movies, where you can bug the shit out of me and tell her about this conversation and the one time I had to pee in a bottle because I was locked inside the gym by a douche bag, yeah, sure, why not, great idea, Ghoul, fuck you,"

"Hey, see! You're already assuming she's gonna say yes, that's a start!" Frank grinned, earning himself a half-assed punch to the shoulder.

"Whoa! Don't move my client, pee-boy, I could fuck up some line-work here!"

Pencil threw his arms in the air in exasperation, and then got up from his chair, "That was one time, one time, you assholes! And it wasn't even my fault! Remind me why I'm friends with you two again?"

Frank shot him a grin, "The Tagger in US, motherfucker,"

He said, reminding him of how they met through that shady website where you could find and meet people who also did street art and were located near you. But seriously, did every shop and website need to have a pun in its name? Was it like a law or something?

Pencil sat down on the chair dejectedly, shaking his head with his arms crossed. Just then, the sound of the tattooing machine stopped altogether, and Octavia stood up to grab a few tissues and some cream to clean up the excess ink and the blood. As she laid it down onto Frank's stomach, Pencil looked to be dying to stand up and see the finished ink, though, being as stubborn as he was, he remained in his seat, trying to look uninterested and bored.

"There we go, all done. Wanna stand up and see it, Ghoul?"

"Hell yeah," Frank didn't need to be asked twice. He slid off the chair and onto the floor, the cold of the room hitting his bare back, since he had to remove his shirt so it could be more comfortable for both Octavia and him. When he reached the tall mirror the room had, he grinned. He resisted the urge to raise his hand and caress the two swallows that lay there, on each of his hips, since the skin around the black looked red and swollen from the needle.

"All good?" Octavia said, peeling off her stained gloves and looking at Frank over her shoulder.

"Yeah, dude, it looks perfect, thanks, 'Tavia," Frank grinned, as Octavia gathered the plastic to put over the new tattoo, not to be removed or touched for at least a few days. She knelt in front of him to smooth it against his shaved belly, and she let a smile slip onto her face, admiring the artwork. "Picture?"

Frank asked, knowing Octavia liked to take pictures of most of the tattoos she did to put into her portfolio, though she never did it without the client's consent. She nodded happily at Frank's question, and fetched her cellphone from the counter where all the supplies were laid out. After snapping a few pictures and seeming content with the result, she allowed Frank to put his shirt back on.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then it opened slightly, the head of a fellow tattoo artist from the shop poking in. He was in his thirties, and was literally tattooed from head to toe, even on his neck and face, and he had a few small ones on his bald head.

"Hey, guys," He greeted Frank and Pencil, knowing they were Octavia's friends. He then turned to her, calling her by her surname like he always did. "Hernandez, just wanted to let you know you can go home after you're done with this session, but looks like you've already wrapped up. Remember to clean up,"

She gave him a sharp nod, "Yes, sir,"

They shared a smile before he went away, after bidding Frank and Pencil goodbye. Immediately, Frank and Pencil turned to look at Octavia with wiggling eyebrows. She groaned loudly at her best friends.

"You fuckers, always thinking about fucking, get your heads out of your own asses and help me clean up. Jesus fucking Christ, I swear it's the last time I bring you here, a colleague can't even say goodbye without you thinking he puts his dick somewhere near me, God, go deep throat a cactus, why don't'cha? Since y'all are so obsessed with sex... Pero que imbéciles, pareciera que son ninfómanos, los dicks," She spoke, muttering the last part in her parents' native language, Spanish, since they were from South America and she had inherited both their Latino looks and accent.

Frank laughed, not really understanding the Hispanic slang, but getting a few words such as 'assholes', or something similar. Almost as soon as they had found out Octavia was Hispanic, they begged her to teach them Spanish curse words from their country, which she refused until a few weeks later. That's how Frank was able to translate 'imbéciles' into 'assholes'; he felt proud of himself.

Though he had no clue what the rest of the sentence meant, aside from the little English she had thrown in there.

Frank walked towards Octavia, who was working on gathering all the things she had to throw away, to help her clean up like she had suggested. While he was grabbing the used gloves from her hands, a gasp echoed throughout the room. Both teens turned to see Pencil clutching his phone close to his face, a look of astonishment written all over his face.

"Pen?" Octavia said, using the short version of his nickname.

Slowly, Pencil raised his head to meet his friends' questioning gazes, with a huge smile stretching his mouth, "Maia fucking accepted my request to follow her on Instagram, suck on that, motherfuckers,"

With that, he threw his fists up in the air in celebration, while Octavia and Frank laughed at their friend. Octavia nudged Frank with her elbow.

"This calls for a party; I'm thinking my house and pot, how about that, ladies?"

They all seemed to silently agree, and as they were leaving, Frank asked, "Did she even follow you back?" Pencil's inaudible mumbling was enough of an answer.


--
lmao im on winter break imma try to write more shit for y'all also i love you i hope u still read my story i swear imma finish it someday bear with me <33

-blue

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