“This the new guy?” he asked, gesturing to Kit.
I slung an arm over Kit’s shoulder and tugged him closer so I could introduce them. “Sure is. Kit is our new drummer.”
“Hey, wait,” Kit said, “Aren’t you…I-I mean…weren’t you the lead singer of Ghost Chains?”
“One in the same,” Deisel said. “Welcome to my second career.”
“Okay, I need a moment to stand here silently so I don’t start fanboying out,” Kit declared.
“I like him,” Deisel said. “He’s got good taste in music.”
The room filled with laughter and handshakes as we greeted the rest of the crew and posed for some badass photos in the entryway, lots of devil horns and tongues sticking out. We’d do after-shots too, with close-ups of all our new tats, fodder for the studio and the band’s social media pages.
“He’s awesome,” I declared, parting ways with Kit as Byron, his tattoo artist and co-owner of the shop, led him to the roomnext to mine.
We all had our favorite artists, which meant they closed the place down for us when we dropped in. It wasn’t as often as I’d have liked, since there were several pieces I wanted to see added to my body, like the one he’d be inking on my abs today. I’d had that spot reserved for a while now as we worked out the design and time when our schedules lined up.
The tail of the clockwork seahorse was going to wrap around my already pierced navel, all darker hues and shading, to really bring out the steampunk vibe. Yes, I had a thing for seahorses. Adding this one to the collection had been a long time coming.
“You want the usual?” Deisel asked.
“Yup,” I replied as I got comfortable on the table.
He passed me a handful of Tootsie Roll Pops and put Pink Floyd on the smart speaker so I could veg out while he got to work. The Tootsie Roll Pops were for when I got shaky, which I always did. Fortunately, he was never without a big bag in his drawer, since sugar crashes were normal, especially for newbies or in the middle of a long session.
“You’ll never believe who I heard from the other day,” he said as he was setting up.
“Why tell me if I’m not going to believe it?” I asked.
“Because you’re going to love it when I do.”
“Spit it out already!”
He laughed and cut me a look over his shoulder. “Never rush the man holding the needle.”
“You aren't holding it yet.”
“No, but I will be,” he said, wagging his finger at me. “And it was Ryan Benning.”
It took a second to place the name; I hadn’t heard it in so long. “I thought he was dead.”
“You’re not the only one. I called bullshit when he said his name. Then he brought up the night the three of us spent riding the subway all over New York City just so we could people-watch."
“Shit,” I murmured, face scrunching up as I tried to recallanything about that night. “I forgot all about that.”
“So had I, until he reminded me,” Deisel said.
“Where’s he been at all this time?”
“Vancouver.”
“Damn. Okay.”
“He was looking for you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Do I look like your secretary?”