Red ink-tattoo shop, Brooklyn
| 1 PM
In Bobbi's shop, the familiar sound of the ink machines pressing down on skin was like hotel lobby music. The layout featured a front desk for bookings and inquiries. The beaded curtain entrance led to the main room.
Bobbi sat at her section, going through marketing strategies on her phone.
"This is way harder than paying taxes." She muttered.
Her two employees, Phoebe, a pink-haired, septum-piercing, bubbly artist whom she hired during her first month of opening, and Remi, a black-haired, short person who wears a grey hoodie like a uniform. Remi is talented and very nosy.
The three of them went through blackouts, customers trying to run right after final adjustments, and the usual New York oddballs.
Remi tapped her fingers on the chair, a sly grin on her face. "Boss lady, you do realise those techniques are as useless as trading videos."
Phoebe chuckled, "Yeah, the best you can do is hire some kid to hand out flyers." She added.
Bobbi glanced at them," The last time I tried that, the kid wanted me to see my tits as payment...he was 13."
"Not the most bizarre thing to ask."
"Remi."
"Sorry." She held her hands up.
Bobbi let out a tired sigh, "Look, the last few months we've been surviving just above a good profit."
"No wonder I've been on a diet of buffet salads and cat food."
Remi and Bobbi looked at Phoebe, flabbergasted at her statement.
"Are yoy serious?"
"Phoebe, I pay you a good amount, don't joke about this to HR," Bobbi warned.
"Sorry, bad joke." She apologised.
Bobbi rolled her eyes, half annoyed, "I really hope you don't make such jokes to clients. "
"Of course not, most of them are as stale as the wall paint."
"Hah, the wall is really plain." Remi chuckled.
"You two realise I'm standing right here?" Bobbi gestured.
"Bobbi, you're the most serious-unserious boss ever."
"You literally went to my birthday dinner, I invited 4 people and you still came." Phoebe beamed.
"I was being supportive. " Bobbi pouted, "Didn't know supporting your employees is lame..."
"You're the best boss ever." Remi, hugged her, all personal boundaries destroyed.
"Group hug!" Phoebe joined the hug, putting Bobbi in a baby penguin position.
Ding, ding
The doorbell rang, stopping the girls' bonding moment as footsteps echoed on the tiles. The bead curtains rustled to announce a new occupant.
"Great, who could it be–"
Phoebe's words died out as a tall man in a biker fit consisting of chunky boots, tight jeans, and a leather jacket with spikes in the shoulders. The person has a buzz cut, definitely military-approved, and a scar on his lower lip.
"Are you guys open or is this a weird work ritual?" His deep voice sounded like thunder rumbling.
"Cool–A biker in our establishment. " Remi purred, shamelessly checking him out.
"Do you have a crazy biker girl or madly in love with your Harley~"
"Both." He chuckled. "You're too short for me lady, and smell like candy." He teased.
"Ass-hole." Remi huffed.
Phoebe couldn't help but chuckle like a schoolgirl with her crush. Bobbi was unamused by the man.
"Who are you?" She questioned, taking a step forward to shield her artists.
He noticed her size-up and only grinned wider." The names Diggs. Not the ball player, just Diggs."
"Just Diggs?" Phoebe pressed.
"Are you a cop?"
"No."
"Then just Diggs to you ladies. "He finalised.
Bobbi hushed the girls, "So you're here for a tattoo or is this an extortion attempt?"
He took off his jacket, exposing his white vest. Remi gasped. Phoebe blushed. He pointed to his right arm, already decorated with tattoos. "I need you to colour this tattoo, it's my mom's face."
Bobbi froze at the words, flashes of her parents hit her mind, holding back the shudder, she steeled herself. "You need it down today?"
"Yes."
"Then sit down." She pointed to the leather chair.
[10 minutes later]
Bobbi was focused on the tattoo, colouring his mother's eyes and delicately working the face.
"I really appreciate you doing this with care...most artists treat it like a doodle." He said.
Bobbi nodded in agreement, "I treat my clients' tattoos like my own...I want them done like paintings."
"Heh, that's a good way of seeing it." He laughed, looking at her with a clear question in mind. "Are you close to your parents?"
"Was, before they passed."
"S-Sorry." He rubbed his head with his left hand.
"Don't worry about it, it was a long time ago–you get used to the memories."
"I couldn't imagine losing my old lady, she always calls me, even though I'm 30 and been in more cells than church doors."
Bobbi rolled her eyes," My parents were big on religion, too bad I cared more about my bike and getting blacked out drunk than any religion. "
"You got a bike?"
" A fat boy. How about you?"
"I got me a Dyna Street Bob. A really fiesty lady." He grinned.
"I know what you mean, mine tried to kill me more times than the cabs."
"That's New York for you."
They chuckled.
"Are they bonding over bikes and mommy issues?" Phoebe looked baffled.
"Yes babe, it's honestly beautiful. " Remi whipped a non-existent tear from her face.
Bobbi and Diggs continued their chat until the tattoo was done. He looked at the redone tattoo of his mother in awe."This is amazing...thanks Bobbi, for real." He sincerely thanked her.
"It was a pleasure, thank you for trusting me with the tattoo. " Bobbi replied.
"How much do I owe you?"
"80 bucks."
"80? That's too low." He reached into his pocket and pulled out 200 dollars and handed it to Bobbi.
"This is too much–"
"I insist. "He interrupted. "Consider it a reward for your talent and therapy session. " He smirked, turning to leave. "Bobbi, if you ever want a drink, go to Sherly's Bar and ask for me. Drinks are half off for family." He announced before leaving.
Ding, ding.
The announced his departure. The three stood in shock at the invitation.
"Did Bobbi just network with a biker gang member?" Phoebe blurted out.
Remi smirked, "Yep, way better than the flyer kid."
"Great, how am I going to tell Bo this." She muttered.