Now it was four weeks after Chet’s first tattoo. True to his word, Scott only inked in an outline of the image—what would eventually be a complicated half-moon/half-sun orb hovering just behind him was currently a series of black lines indicating the design. It’d hurt like a b***h, and Chet dreaded filling it in. Couldn’t they leave well enough alone? True, it looked silly as is—Chet caught sight of it in the mirror sometimes when he was getting into the shower and shuddered to remember the way it’d felt, as if someone were scraping into sunburnt skin. When it was finished, it would look bad-ass, Scott promised…and he’d never lied to Chet before. In the meantime, it just looked bad.
As Chet followed Scott through the employee-only area of the tattoo parlor, he wondered what had the artist
