(IPFF) Episode Five: Doughnut, Korean, and Tattoos

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Episode Five: Doughnut, Korean, and Tattoos

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I woke up a little after seven in the morning despite setting my alarm for eight. The sun was just completely up, and the sunshine was quickly burning off the morning fog. I laid there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling while I tried to force myself to wake up. The bed was extremely comfortable and very cushiony, as were the pillows. The sheets were buttery indulgently soft cotton white, and the comforter was a thin gray feather down. It was nicer than any hotel, certainly. 

I looked over the schedule he emailed me before for the week on my phone from the comfort of my bed to double check the work times. He was filming later with a small crew, two other guys apparently. They were filming for three different videos at three different locations, two restaurants, and a tattoo parlor. I could only assume what they would be about.

I also looked at Instagram, Facebook, a couple of news sites, and the weather. There was a zero percent chance of rain for the next five days in Los Angeles. The same could not be said for Queens.  

It was after ten in New York so Alice would be awake. It was a Tuesday so she would be going into the office at noon, probably. Normally I would be making her breakfast right about then. My stomach knew it, too. It would wait because of my laziness, though. 

“What's for breakfast?” I texted her.  

“I'm going to stop by the bodega and get something. Probably a pack of doughnuts and an iced coffee. What about you?" She texted back almost instantly. If I knew her, she was sitting half-naked from the shower, playing on her phone, and avoiding getting ready. She could be so lazy sometimes. We both could. 

“Granola bar and an orange or two. Hot coffee. He doesn't have anything in his kitchen. It's a little weird, tbh.”

“Well, he is a single young guy. I'm not surprised. How is he? Is he terrible? Weird? Smells like Axe body spray? A secret Swiss cheese pervert?”

I actually laughed out loud. "He's very nice, honestly. Downright charming, even. I thought it would be stranger staying in his house, but he's been really gracious so far. And he's refusing to let me pay for any of my food while I'm here, so I'm going to take advantage and get free food. I need the money." 

“That's nice. He has the money. How is his house?”

“Beautiful. I can't wait to show you. It's kind of bare, furniture and decoration wise, in some spots though. But, he's just starting out living on his own. I have to tell you though that I have a deep personal connection with the bathrooms. They move me. They make me aspire to have better showers.”

"You mean ice cold, weak ass spurts of the Hudson river AREN'T your ideal shower?" She teased, speaking of one of our frequent water woes. The joys of living in an old building.

“Shocking! I know! I mean, it makes my hair look great but that ain't no way to live.”

“That's the truth. So, what are you two doing today?” She typed back quickly. Everyone typed faster than me.

"He's making videos today. I don't know much more than that. He won't be up for a while, though. I woke up too early, and he sleeps really late," I typed from under my covers.

“Your body clock is still in New York.”

“Right, and it'll correct itself just in time for me to fly back. And it'll take me a week to fix it again,” I complained. It happened every time I traveled anywhere.

“Are you at least having a good time?”

I thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good. Getting any good pictures?”

“Yeah, Eddie is easy to photograph. He enjoys it and is a really good model. He knows his own angles.”

“Is he as hot as he seems in person?” I snickered when I saw the words on the screen.

“Omg, super hot. He's like seven feet tall and all muscle even though he eats like a trash panda. I think I kind of want to have his babies. Our children would be both beautiful and be able to eat anything they wanted. My dream come true.”

Alice's reply was almost instant. “Girl, his babies would rip you apart. #tinygirlproblems”

I laughed out loud again. She wasn't wrong at all. “He'd probably rip me apart, are you fucking kidding? He's a damn giant.”

“#worthit?” 

“#ow,” I replied back. “#savethevag.”

"I know it's been a while. But... you know... If you're going to get back in the saddle, you might as well start with someone hung like a horse."  

I snorted quietly and rubbed my forehead while I thought of how to answer her. “You so stupid. #youneedjesus #noponyplaypls”

"Unless Jesus is a fine looking Latino man, I don't need him. I need to go to work, though. Send me some pictures later. I wanna see everything."
 
“K. Have a good day,” I replied and put my phone back onto the charger. I made sure my spare batteries were charged and in my camera bag as well. I was probably going to need those later in the day. 

I did a quick workout then took a long drawn out shower. I must have been in there for thirty minutes, at least. Letting the conditioner sit in my hair, I stood in the middle of the streams with my eyes closed. It was so soothing. I could have slept standing up.

The house was almost eerily quiet as I padded down to his kitchen in sock covered feet. It was kind of fun sliding across the wooden floor. The coffee things he had bought for me the day before were still sitting on the kitchen bar in their boxes. I removed the coffee grinder and french press from their cardboard boxes and washed them thoroughly. I cleaned the new mugs and spoons in his sink as well. I didn't know where he wanted the salt, sugar, or coffee beans, so I just left them on the counter.   

I only made a small pot, just enough for me to have a couple of cups of coffee. When I was about halfway through my first mug, Edward came out of his room. He sniffed the air dramatically, lifting his chin up high as he did. 

“That makes the whole house smell so good,” he told me as he sat down at the bar.

“Would you like a cup?” I offered.

“Yes, please.”

“How do you take it?” I asked, pulling out one of the freshly washed mugs from the drain. 

“A little sugar, a little creamer.” He looked so tired.

“One or two sugars?”

“Two.”

“The creamer is sweet,” I warned. 

“I know,” he smiled like a child. “Otherwise it would be three. Or, five.”

When he took his first sip, he loudly groaned before taking another. "This is the best coffee I've had since the last time I was in Australia. How did you do that?" 

"Oh, it's not hard. I'll show you," I started the kettle again and washed the french press clean of the last batch. "First, you need coffee grounds. You need a generously heaping tablespoon per six-ounce cup you want to make. Not your monster mugs.  A normal cup size." I ground some beans up in the little bean grinder. It only took a couple of seconds and a few pulses. "Course, not too fine. You want it chunky, or it'll get through the filter." I measured for four mugs and added a small pinch of kosher salt. 

“Salt, really?” He seemed surprised. 

“Just a little. Salt literally makes everything better,” I told him. 

When the kettle was done, I took it off the burner for a few seconds to lower the temperature of the water just a little below boiling. I poured the hot water just over the grounds, halfway full in the carafe. I set a timer on my phone for a minute. "So, you need to bloom the coffee, which just means get it wet to wake it up. Jesus, that's what she said,” I muttered to myself, making him laugh softly. “Anyway, once your minute is up, add the rest of the water to the top and set another timer for three minutes.”

“Would you say this is quicker than a machine?” He asked, curiously.

I thought about it. "Than a pod machine? No, but they're gross. A drip, maybe. It's a little more work, but it's worth it, I think. I'm not sure, I've not compared them recently." 

When the timer was up, I pressed down the plunger slowly, pushing all the grounds to the bottom. I poured him some more coffee in his large mug that was now empty. I prepared it with cream and sugar before passing it back to him.   

“So, that's it? That doesn't seem that complicated at all. And to think I've been trying to get used to the shitty coffee you people have here!” He commented after he took another drink, “no offense.”

“Obviously I'm not one of those people,” I teased him dryly.

“Well, yeah. Obviously. God, this fan-fucking-tastic.,” he moaned before slurping some down. “Thank you.”

“I told you coffee was my favorite drink.”

Someone knocked 'shave, and a haircut' on Edward's front door before it swung open, making me jump in surprise. He seemed unfazed, though. The door banged against the wall, making a loud echo down the foyer and hall.   

“Hey, Boss!” A short probably Asian young man said loudly. He was short, with dark almond-shaped eyes and black hair. He was well groomed and wore nicer casual clothes. Even his sneakers were perfectly white. He was extremely stylish. Behind him was a tall thin man with a scruffy face and slicked back mousy brown hair. He was very pale, and he had deep circles under his brown eyes. The taller one was thin to the point of almost gaunt. He smiled at me cheerfully.  

“Hey,” Edward answered him. “Sorry, I'm not ready yet. I got distracted.” He stood up from the bar. “Seth. Tyler. This is Bella, the photographer I was telling you about. Bella, this Seth,” he pointed out the shorter gentlemen who rushed over to shake my hand. The tall one came over and did the same but calmly with large slow strides. “And, that's Tyler. It's okay if you confuse them for one another. They're obviously very hard to tell apart. ”

"I mean, we're practically twins," Tyler said quietly with a small smile on his long face. His eyes were small, and they seemed to close when he spoke.  

I giggled softly, “hi, lovely to meet you. Just let me know if I ever get in your way.”

"Are you going to join us in the videos?" Tyler asked, pleasantly. "We have a lot of fun together when we make them."  

I looked over at Edward and shrugged in an answer. "I enjoyed doing them yesterday, but it's up to him, of course. He's the boss. I'm just here to take pictures and not get in the way." 

“Absolutely not in the way! More the merry,” Edward said cheerfully. “Alright, let me go get dressed. I'll be right back,” and then he rushed off, his bare feet smacking on the floor as he went. 

“Is there any coffee left?” Seth asked me eagerly, eyeing Edward's empty mug. 

“Sure is.” I pulled out another clean mug. “Tyler, would you care for some, too?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he answered politely. 

“Are you from the south?” I asked as he came to sit down at the bar. 

"My parents and I are from Tennessee, but I grew up all over. I was an army brat. How could you tell?" He asked. "I don't have much of an accent." 

“You're so polite. You were either southern or Canadian. Ma'am gives it away, though,” I smiled at him, friendly.

Tyler nodded his head, thoughtfully. "So, you're from New York? Did you grow up there? You don't sound like a yankee."  

“No, I grew up outside of Houston in a little town about an hour away.”

“Is this your first time in LA?” Seth asked. 

"Yeah. I've been to California, but I went to San Francisco for a volunteering thing I do." 

“I'm from San Francisco,” Seth said excitedly. “Did you do all the fun tourist shit? See the bridge?”

“Oh yeah. It was a... bridge. It's impressive, I guess." I made a little face. "I was kind of worried the entire time I'd see someone jump off. It actually gave me a lot of anxiety," I admitted to him. "I'm kind of morbid that way," I said as a way of a little warning. 

"I'd be paranoid, too. People try to jump there all the damn time. I think they put nets up and that helps, but you know how people are." Seth took his cup and thanked me. I took the milk and creamers from the fridge so they could make their drinks how they liked.  

“It seems like such a terrible way to die, jumping off a bridge. You have time to regret what you have done and know that it's going to hurt when you hit the water. I can't imagine.” I shook the images of my head as I thought of the freezing San Francisco Bay. I had never been one to be suicidal. Life ended too quickly on its own.

"I'm gone for five minutes, and you're already talking about killing yourselves?" Edward joked when he came out. He was wearing a nice pair of dark, tight jeans that reminded me of the ones you would see in Texas. The expensive wannabe cowboy jeans. He was wearing a blue button-down shirt and a black vest as well. I instantly felt underdressed.  

“Do I need to wear nicer clothes?” I asked, looking at my flannel and tank top combination with jeans. 

“No, you're fine. He's just a fancy bitch,” Seth joked. Edward laughed, throwing his head back dramatically with his hands on his hips. 

“Ha. Ha. Har. Fuck you, sir. I am not a bitch,” he said in an English accent.

“No, he's a hipster,” Tyler interjected evenly. Edward clutched his imaginary pearl necklace. 

“Take that back!”

“If he could grow a mustache, he'd have one of those goofy handlebar ones,” Seth laughed as he imagined it. 

"No. No, I would not. My best mate Jasper has one, and it's stupid. Why are you teasing me in front of the pretty girl?” Eddie pretended to be wounded. I gently patted his shoulder as I walked by. 

“I'm not a girl. I'm a woman,” I noted as I walked to go get my camera and my shoes. I heard Seth and Tyler viciously continue to tease him as I went. 

"Right! She's a woman, you chauvinist swine! She's a guest in your home, and you're STILL making her make the coffee for you?" Seth was fake insulted on my behalf. "You know, he thought you were a dude," he shouted down the hall after me. 

"I didn't know! My manager kept saying 'he' and Swan Photography doesn't tell you a whole lot about gender, thank you! Not that it matters. And I didn't ask her to!" He defended himself. "I mean, kinda, but not like that!" 

“It's surprising, especially coming from a man with four older sisters. You'd think they would have beaten it out of him,” Tyler added, speaking directly to Seth who was shaking his head and had his arms crossed. I could see them as I came back down the hall.

“My sisters never beat me. They loved me and babied me. And, played with me all the time like I was a damn dress up Barbie doll,” he mumbled the last part to himself.

“And, that's why you are a fancy bitch now,” I replied as I came back into the room with my shoes slipped on and my camera bag over my shoulder. 

Tyler and Seth cackled in pleasure at me teasing their friend. I smiled at him innocently. Well, he had said he liked my acerbic wit.

“So, no vest then? Is this what we're trying to say? As meanly as possible?” He asked me directly, very sarcastically. I nodded with a little smile. 

I reached up to undo another button down on his shirt after he removed his vest and tossed it to the side. He almost looked uncomfortable the way he had it before. I adjusted his collar a little. “That's better.”

“Thanks,” he said very quietly with a smile. Edward cleared his throat. “Alright, let's get this show on the road.”

Our first stop was a doughnut shop known for its fancy pastries and weird flavor combinations. We were coming later in the afternoon to avoid the morning rush. We toured their kitchens, and they showed us each product they handmade. They had Edward decorate doughnuts with icing and bacon, something that made him very happy.  

“American bacon is very different from the rest of the world's bacon, but I really like it,” he said into the camera as Tyler filmed and Seth held a boom mic to help with the audio. “It's super crispy.” He took a big bite of bacon, making a mess as it shattered to bits in his hands. “Shit!”

They would take turns in different spots for different takes. They seem to know what they were doing, and the tempo was all set by Edward. When they set up for the taste test part of the video, I took pictures all around the closed restaurant. I took maybe two hundred photos of the colorful and weird breakfast foods. When I finally sat down for my part in the video, I had already taken close to five hundred pictures. We weren't even halfway through the day.   

I sat very close to Edward on the bench at a table covered in doughnuts. “Okay, we're all set?” He asked me with a small smile.

“Ready when you are,” I replied.

“Alright. And three, two one... I'm so excited to be joined today by my new friend, Bella!” He motioned to me grandly.

“Hi,” I smiled and waved to the camera. 

“So, do you like doughnuts?” He asked like a late night host. I gave my best interview voice like I had practiced in the shower a million times when I gave my pretend interviews. 

"I do! I love them. I grew up eating them a lot. Texas is big into doughnuts, so there are little family shops everywhere. We took a few dozen doughnuts to church with us every Sunday morning. My grandmother would make them herself." 

“Every Sunday?” He seemed genuinely surprised.  

“Yup, for the church elders who came in early and got ready for services. Someone would make coffee and bring juice and milk. My grandma brought doughnuts.”

“That's a lot of doughnuts. So, what's your favorite?”

I worried my lip as I thought of my answer. “My favorite fried doughnut is probably just a good glazed or chocolate. A cake one would be blueberry glazed. I like traditional flavors. But, there are none I dislike really.”

“What do you think the best doughnut drink is?” He asked. “I mean, drink to have with a doughnut.”

“If it's a cold day, hot chocolate. If it's hot like right now, whole white milk or chocolate milk. I like both.”

"I'm surprised you didn't say coffee! You have a detailed answer for everything," Edward laughed, charming and sweet. "I love it. Alright, so, we've got a dozen of their most popular flavors, and we've got a plate and a knife. We're going to cut up these babies and eat as much sugar as we possibly can." 

We took turns trying each flavor and giving our reactions over it. By the seventh one, there was a mild sugar buzz rushing in the back of my head, and I'm pretty sure I had chocolate on my face. Seth and Tyler tried them as well, giving their reactions while Edward filmed. I took pictures as he did. 
 
The whole thing was so much fun. Everyone was laughing and covered in sugar. The baker was more than happy to get the positive attention from Edward's video. It would probably get ten million views in just a few days. It would bring in hundreds of new customers. 

The shop gave them a few boxes of the doughnut to take with us when we finally left. We had been there for maybe three hours in total. It didn't really feel like work though. I was having a great time. 

The next restaurant was a traditional Korean barbeque. It smelled like heaven. Korean was probably one of my favorite foods. Or well, any Asian was. The inside was sleek and very modern looking, everything bright and clean. The owner was a young man whose parents were from South Korea, and he was raised in LA.  

This one we didn't tour the kitchen. This video was all about eating. The restaurant was known for its large family meal that was supposed to serve at least eight. There were only four of us. 

The meal included Bulgogi, galbi, and a whole marinated and crispy fried duck. It was served with Kimbap in three different styles. As well as a whole host of sides including the best kimchi I had ever eaten and a fire hot cast iron bowl filled with soft white rice that was now perfectly browned on the bottom. Everything was served with buchimgae, little Korean pancakes. 

Seth sat in the center and explained everything enthusiastically. He gave a monologue about growing up a mixed kid with a Chinese Korean mom and a white father and how his mother cooked every day and the foods he ate as a kid. And he ended with, “but, honestly, I just wanted to come here to eat all this amazing food and not have to pay for it myself.”

“Here here,” I clinked my teacup against his beer. 

We ate for a solid hour. The doughnuts before had been a dozen bites spread over an hour period. But there was so much food to try at this place. And I loved all of it. Seth praised my chopstick skills. We pinched at each other for several minutes after going after the same dumpling.  

“Thanks. My mother in law taught me,” I told him as I waved about a piece of broccoli like a savage. My grandmother would have been horrified. 

“Is she Asian?” He asked.

I laughed. “No, Jewish.”

"Meh, close enough," Tyler said dryly from behind the camera. I was going to really like him. They were all very funny. Edward was clearly having a great time, as well. Tyler was the designated driver, so the two boys tried a few different kinds of Korean beer.   

I was stuffed to the very brim. There was so much food to take back with us, in probably half a dozen boxes. Seth claimed it all for himself. It was going to be his dinner for the week.

Each man was a natural in front of and behind the camera. They all worked very well together and encouraged me to take as many pictures of possible. Sometimes they would even point out pictures for me to take. By the time we had left, my photo count was over fifteen hundred.  

"We're not supposed to be to the tattoo shop for an hour, and I need to walk all this off. I think there is a nice park on the way. Let's stop there. It'll get a good place for Bella to take pictures," Edward suggested with a hand on his full stomach. He sat in the passenger seat beside Tyler. "It's going to be sunset soon, though."  

“That would be good,” I agreed. “Dusk is the best time to take pictures.”

Tyler and Seth set off to take background shots for the videos with their cameras, going in separate directions. Edward decided he wanted to go walk around the trail that looped the park. It was just starting to turn orange with light streaks of pink in the sky. 

“So, how is it going?” He asked me, looking back over his shoulder just as I took his picture in the perfect light.

"Good," I answered as I took his picture again. This time of him smiling and almost looking shy. "Sick of me yet?" 

“Not at all. I like working with you. You're a natural.”

“You think?” I asked. 

He stopped at a statue of someone I didn't know and leaned against it. “Yes. You're very well spoken.”

“I took speech and drama in school. I'm pretty good at turning on that Texas Beauty Queen voice when I need to.” I took his picture as he watched me. His arms crossed over his chest as it began to get a little breezy. Goosebumps crawled up my arms.

“Texas beauty queen?” Edward questioned curiously.

I turned on my thickest, sweetest, accent, making my eyes real wide as I smiled. "Hi there! My name is Bella Marie, and I'm from Harris County, Texas! My hobbies include music, dancing, and cooking! My talents include playing the fiddle AND the banjo! Yeehaw, y' all," I deadpanned the last two words. 

He actually threw his head back in laughter at my silly voice. 

“Oh, my god. Yes, you're right. You are good at that.”

“Are you laughing at my real accent?” I said very seriously. His eyes grew wide in worry before I laughed. “It is, though. My real accent. It's okay, it's funny as fuck.”

He looked at me a little bashfully, his hands rubbing up against his arms because it was starting to get chilly. “It's cute, I like it.”

“Well, I'm glad someone does. It's terrible. Anyway, what are we doing at the tattoo shop, exactly?” I asked him, changing the subject because I felt flustered at his compliment. 

He pushed off the statue. “I'm getting my first tattoo.”

“And, you're filming the experience?” I questioned.

“Of course. Then I can write it off as a tax expense,” Edward joked.

I rolled my eyes at his answer. “What are you getting?”

“Cullen family crest on my chest.” He placed his hand somewhere over his heart. “The artist designed it for me already. I'm really excited. It's pretty sweet.” 

“And this is your very first? Any piercings or anything?”

“Nope. None,” he shook his head.

“Oh, boy,” I laughed and smiled at him. “Good luck with that. I hope it's small.”

"Hurting myself always gets more views. It's fine," he answered, a little too self-aware. "I don't think I want any piercings, though. I don't think I could care for them properly. I'd probably lose an ear." 

“I have a bunch.” I lifted my hair to reveal my rows of simple studs I was currently sporting. There were three in each ear in a neat little row. 

“Do they hurt?” He brushed his hand just against the edge of my hair so he could get a better look at my earrings. 

I held my head very still so he could look. “Of course when you get them. They don't hurt afterward unless you don't take care of them.”

“They look nice on you.”

I smoothed my hair back over my shoulder.

“Thanks.”

We walked in silence for a while. There was starting to be a hint of purple as the orange and pink became more intense along the horizon. The palm trees swayed in the wind. We stopped so I could take just the perfect picture of the sunset. I put my camera away once it became too dark.  Street lights came on just as we reached an empty playground. 

Together we each sat on the swings, side by side. 

“So, you were interested in drama?” Edward asked me suddenly. “You took it in school, yeah?”

“Yeah, in high school and some college. Just a little. I don't think I was that good,” I told him honestly. “I never had a lead role in anything. Just supporting roles. Chorus line, usually.”

He shrugged. “Well, maybe that's because you're just supposed to be yourself in front of the camera.”

“Are you yourself in front of the camera?” I leaned my forehead against the chain, looking at him.

“No,” he shook his head. “I am a character of myself.”

“You are more self-aware than I'd imagine you be from your videos,” I said truthfully. “I mean that as a compliment even if it doesn't sound like it. I'd imagine most celebrities aren't self-aware.”

Edward scoffed quietly.

“Do you really think I'm a celebrity?”

“Why else would I be here?”

“Good point,” he dug his feet into the small pebbles under the swings. “I'm still kinda feeling new to this.”

“Don't worry. Me too,” I said quietly, swallowing back some of my nervousness so I could give him a little reassuring smile.

Thankfully Seth came to save us from our awkward silence. It was time to head to the tattoo shop. 

It was in a strip mall, and the outside wasn't much to look at, but the inside of the shop was very clean with hundreds of tattoos on the wall on posters or in frames.  

Edward spoke to the owner of the shop who was doing the art himself. They talked about the things you should know before you get a tattoo and how to take care of them for the camera. 

"Tyler doesn't have any tattoos, but I know Seth has a couple. Do you have any, Bella?" Edward asked me, catching me off guard because I was behind the camera.  

"I have a ton," I answered, coming around for the camera because he motioned for me to do so. "I tend to put them in places that are easy to hide, though." 

“How many do you have?” He asked.

“Oh, um, a few dozen? At least. I'm not sure. Some are really small.” I tried to count in my head but quickly gave up.

“Can I see any of them?” Edward asked curiously. 

"Um, sure," I said as I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks. I pulled up my blue jeans, showing the ones on the tops of my feet and ankles. Each foot had several stars across them, colored in a rainbow. I had a little black dragon high on one ankle and a series of tiny tattoos. I called them my charms because they were for different things that had happened in my life. I removed my flannel shirt, placing it carefully on my bag so it wouldn't touch the floor. I pulled up my shirt to show the variety on my back and belly. Roses, lilies, and pansies decorated my shoulder blade. The other had a watercolor version of an old-fashioned camera. It had been a birthday present. A lot of them had been. "I've got more, but I'd have to take my clothes off to show you."  

“Holy shit! I had no idea!” Edward exclaimed loudly. He stopped himself from touching me, pulling his fingers back at the last minute.

“I try to look professional.”

"I love them, though!" He said as he looked over my back and stomach. The artist looked at them as well, touching me with gloved hands. He traced his finger over the vintage bakeware pattern on my ribs. It was orange and red, just like my grandmother's favorites. 
“This is some quality ink,” The artist told me, impressed. 

"Thanks. I've spent thousands over the years. I'd love something new, but I've been broke the past couple of years now," I told him honestly as he looked at my cross stitch rainbow heart with a needle' sticking' into it that was under my left breast. 

“Yo, do you think you could give her a tattoo after me as well?” Edward asked the tattoo artist. “For the video.”

“If you pay for it, I can do whatever you want,” the guy answered. “I'd normally be closed right now, so I don't have any appointments coming in.”

“Are you serious?” I asked Edward. 

“Yeah, if you want one. Do you know what you'd like to get?” He asked me seriously. 

“I know exactly what I want to get,” I pulled my phone from my pocket and brought up a picture I had taken. It was of a bejeweled butterfly, lined in rose gold. “It'd like it as jewel-toned as possible with blues, greens, and purples like this,” I explained. “Is that possible?”

“Yeah, Mama. I got you. Where you want it?” The artist grinned at me.

“Collarbone, just below,” I showed him, pushing the strap of my shirt to the side. “About three inches across.”

"Let me work on his piece, and I'll hook you up after." 

Edward was visibly nervous by the time he got shirtless in the chair. I hadn't realized just how well muscled and defined his chest was until that point. His arms didn't really give it all away. He didn't have an eight-pack by any means, but his shoulders and chest were broad and well toned. He was obviously sucking his stomach in for the camera, though. Not that I blamed him.  

I felt the heat creep up my neck as I took pictures of him in the chair from a half a dozen angles. I took photos with my macro lens as the artist laid down the stencil and afterward when he pressed the needle into Edward's flesh for the first time. 

It took about a minute of the needle for him to go, “motherfucker!”

“Doing okay, boss?” Seth asked with a chuckle from behind the camera. Clearly, he was unconcerned.

“It feels like I'm being stabbed a million times in a row in the chest by a very tiny needle,” he said very sarcastically.

“Explaining things to you very accurately in an Australian accent, brought to you by Eddie Cullen,” I said directly into the camera, making Tyler chuckle. 

“Come for the quality content, stay for the sexy accent,” Edward said with a scrunched up nose as the artist filled in the black background of the crest. He was clearly in pain.

"That's probably going to be the worst part," I told him as I examined the outline he was filling in. "The rest is going to be quick little swipes with a smaller needle." 

“She right,” the artist agreed, wiping away some ink with a paper towel. Edward was bleeding a little bit. “Breathe, man. You're holding your breath.”

“Eddie,” I got his attention because he was looking a little panicked, to be honest. “In through your nose, hold it and count to four, let it out through your mouth slowly. Repeat.”

I breathed with him for several seconds. He became less tense. The tattoo was quickly coming together. It was a black shield with an outline of a lion raised in attack. The outside was lined with red and black ribbons and tiny red roses on black vines circling it. 

His eyes were actually watering. Towards the end of the crest work, he really started using more interesting combinations of curse words. "Holy mother of shit fuckers, you ball-less twat monkey!" 

"A ball-less twat monkey?" Seth asked, confused, and bemused. "Where in your brain comes up with these?" 

“The same place that comes up with terrible video ideas that hurt me,” he complained,  his eyes closed. “Why do you have so many tattoos? How?”

“I like pain,” I answered mildly, earning a groan from him. He didn't open his eyes.

“Fucking obviously.”

I chuckled at his answer, “it's not that bad, you big baby. You're just a big ham.”

“It hurts.”

“Try having it done on your feet. Or, ribs,” I told him. “You'll be fine. Just stopping tensing up and breathe. Pain is in the mind.”

He complained the entire time and yet he loved the results at the end. I took close up pictures of the tattoo and of his face, of the blood that was just pooling at the surface mixed with ink. I think I liked the ones of him making hurt faces better. They were funnier. 

The artist had to clean up and design my tattoo real quick, so we had a few minutes of downtime. We decided to bring some of the doughnuts in from the car and have a snack. The artist had one as well as he worked on the line art. Tyler was going to take the rest home with him since Seth got the Korean. He was going to take them to his girlfriend. 

When it was my turn, I took off my flannel shirt again and laid it on top of my camera bag along with my camera.  

"Where do you want it?" He asked as he held up the temporary stencil to put on. I tried to adjust my shirt and bra, but it wasn't working at all. 

I removed my tank top and put it on my other shirt. I had a sports bra on so I removed the right strap from my shoulder and tucked it into my bra. Carefully I showed him the spot, adjusting it just so. I didn't realize until after the artist had put it on that the boys were all very quiet. Both Tyler and Seth were filming, their faces obscured by the camera. Edward looked utterly shocked, though.  

“What?” I asked as I laid back in the chair. Grabbing my shirts, I tucked them under my head for a pillow. 

“What? Oh? Um, nothing,” Edward shook his head. He was trying very hard not to look at my chest. “You've got a lot of tattoos. Do they all have stories?”

“Some do. They represent events and people. But, not all of them. Sometimes a girl just likes cute ass little dragons when she's eighteen.” 

He smiled at my answer.

Edward sat beside me on a stool, chatting with me as I got tattooed. “Maybe I am a bitch,” he told me as I practically nodded off with one of my arms draped over my eyes. He seemed almost annoyed with himself at that point.

“But you're a fancy one,” I assured him with a little yawn.

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