Categories > Original > Drama > Escaping Reality
Chapter Eleven
The moment I heard the word leave Quinn's lips, it was unbelievable. I don't really have the words to describe how I felt. Although it had been a possibility all along, I had never even considered it actually becoming reality. I didn't know the impact that just one little word could have. That word was one. The single had gone to number one. On the billboard charts and the digital charts. Number one, it had beaten every other song on the charts at the time. In the top ten would have been incredible enough, but it had gone all the way to number one. Who would have ever thought? It was something we had all wished for. Wished, but never expected.
Over the next few weeks the band was going to be busy recording their album, they hoped to have it ready for release by the end of the month. I wouldn't go with them all the time to the recording studio, even though it was the school holidays. I had decided to work as much as I could in the holidays to earn abit of money, so I only went once in the first week of recording. Everything had gone smoothly and they had gotten half of the recording done. They were all having a lot of fun, and I enjoyed watching them play, trying to make the album the best it could be. I was so happy for them, more than words could say.
It wasn't until the second, and final, week of recording that things slowly started to fall apart. I was sitting on the other side of the glass, where the audio engineer was working away. Quinn was singing the first verse of the eighth track, and went slightly off tune. He stopped and swore under his breath.
"It's alright, just start from the beginning," the audio engineer said calmly.
Quinn started again, but made a mistake with the lyrics this time. He stopped, looking angry with himself.
"It's been a long day, just start again," the man said, remaining patient. He was right, it had been a long day, it was three o'clock, and they'd left before Ihad even gotten up this morning. Quinn moved towards the microphone again, this time closing his eyes as he began to sing. He got a little further but sang the wrong lyrics again. He took a step back, swore, and pulled the headphones off, before storming out of the room. I looked at the man beside me.
"How has he been until now?" I asked.
I was sure the guys would have told me if he had been struggling.
"He was perfectly fine last week, the problem really only started today, although he's been getting more irritated by little things in the last two days," he said, giving the guys an apologetic look through the window.
They had purposely not been telling me.
"Ah, sorry you had to tell me that," I said, getting up from my seat.
It was up to me to look for Quinn, to comfort him. As it always was, although Icouldn't complain, I could handle his emotions better than anyone else. Iwalked out of the small room and into the building entrance. I could see Quinn through the front door having a smoke. I slowly walked to the door, taking adeep breath, I hadn't spoken to him all day and I didn't know if he wanted to have a conversation with me.
"Hey,"I said standing beside him, casually.
Quinn said nothing he just looked at me and nodded.
"I'm sure it's stressful," I said sympathetically.
Quinn still said nothing, and I was losing my patience with him.
"I can't help you if you don't say anything!"
"I didn't ask for your help," he said taking a puff from his smoke.
I was a little surprised by the tone of his voice. But I just had to remind myself it wasn't my fault.
"I see," I said quietly, and turned to walk back inside.
"Kate, I'm sorry," he said, holding my hand.
I looked up at him, trying to read what he was feeling, but it did no good. He had shut up his emotions again he was getting even better at that.
"I'm just tired, I need a good sleep," he admitted, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe.
"I know. But, you've got to really try with this Quinn. You're making your first album. Just a few weeks and this will all be over and you'll probably get to go on tour or something right? Won't that be rewarding enough?" I encouraged him, knowing more than anything that touring and playing shows was what Quinn longed for most. Playing in front of a crowd was something he couldn't describe. It was just like a natural high for him.
"You're right. We should be finished by the end of this week, then all they need to do is mix it and we're done," he smiled, although it looked forced.
I still couldn't tell if I had gotten through to him completely, but we walked back inside for another hours worth of trouble-free recording.
"You're all finished, well done," Simon said at the end of the week.
They had been working solidly for two weeks and they were finally finished with recording everything they needed to. Now all that had to happen was for it to be mixed and put together, and then it was ready to go on sale. I couldn't wait to hear the final product, but we had to be patient. I knew everyone was going to have a hard time sitting round while it was getting done. But it would be worth it when the album was released.
- - -
"Good luck," I whispered, giving Quinn a kiss before walking out of the dressing room with them.
It was the night of the album release and they were having a concert at the venue where they had opened for Unfortunate Lives. It had taken only just over aweek to mix the album and the band had got to have a little input in the album cover and insert. They were really happy with the album and couldn't wait for the world to hear it. This was their first real concert, their first sold out concert. It held two thousand people and had sold out in two weeks. Their first single had definitely bought them some fans already. I couldn't wait to watch the show. I could tell just from watching the sound check that the show was going to be good, they hadn't had their own concert yet so this was a big thing for them. However, they were almost immune to the idea of new experiences now that they were happening so often.
Quinn was shaking from nerves, but I could tell he couldn't wait to get out there in front of the crowd. They walked on stage and I sat back to enjoy the concert. The houselights were still off and the crowd's cheers and screams made me a little anxious, not even able to think how the band was feeling right now. The lights turned on and the music started, the show had begun.
- - -
"Congratulations on your single getting to number one!" A young woman said to Quinn as she walked by at the album release party later that night, which was held at our apartment.
I noticed the tattoo on her neck, it was of a rose. I wondered if there was astory behind that or if she had just liked the picture. I asked Quinn what he thought.
"I don't know, babe," he laughed.
We'd had a couple of drinks already, we weren't drunk but it was definitely starting to go to my head.
"Do you want a tattoo?" I asked, curious.
"Yeah, one day."
"Really, me too," I said, jumping up from my seat, "Let's go get one now!"
"What?"he said, surprised by my sudden interest, but I could tell he didn't think it was a bad idea, "Aren't you too young?"
"There are places around here that will tattoo anyone," I said, grabbing his hand.
"I don't know what I want though," he said not moving.
"I have an idea, come on, please?" I asked, and he got up from the couch. We walked through a group of people to the front door.
"Where are you two going?" Aaron asked as we passed him on the way out of the apartment.
"We're getting tattoos," I smiled.
The expression on his face made Quinn and I laugh, he definitely hadn't been expecting that answer. I think I heard him mutter, oh no, under his breath, but I ignored it. We had been drinking, and I wasn't sure we'd be doing this if alcohol hadn't been involved. The truth was I had always wanted a tattoo, but had never had enough courage to get it done. Now that I wasn't living with my parents, it would be a lot easier to hide it around them, until I was brave enough to tell them anyway. They didn't approve of tattoos either. There wasn't really a lot they approved of now I thought about it. I knew they were just being protective of me, but I felt like they were too protective. At least now that I had moved out from their house I was able to do things on my own, without the risk of getting into trouble. I liked it much better that way.
We didn't have to walk far down the street to find a couple of tattoo parlors that were still open. The first said we had to be eighteen, and I was disappointed, but luckily the second had agreed to do it, clearly recognizing who Quinn was.
"Can I borrow a pen and some paper please?" I asked the woman sitting at the reception desk.
She had tattoos all up her arms and several piercings on her face. Yet, she was still pretty. She smiled and handed over what I had asked for. I drew a simple sketch of the idea I had, it was only small. It wasn't a masterpiece but it showed, basically, what I meant. Quinn agreed it was a good idea and we went to discuss it with the tattooist.
"I want a music note with a Q beside it," I said pointed to a little music note that lay on a sheet of different pictures.
"And I want the same, but a K, not a Q," he smiled at me.
"Are you sure you guys want to do this?" the tattooist asked.
"Yes, otherwise we wouldn't be here," I said, I had made up my mind, and I didn't want anyone to try and convince me otherwise.
"Where do you want them then?"
"On my left wrist," I said looking at Quinn to see what he thought, he nodded.
I hoped getting a tattoo done would hurt less since I had alcohol in my system.
"Okay, who's getting it done first?" the tattooist asked.
"Quinn is," I said immediately.
He seemed to be okay with that. He got up and sat in the chair closest to the tattooist and gave me an excited look. I held his right hand as the tattooist began to work. I had drawn a quick sketch of how big we wanted the tattoo it would only be very small. We had also chosen a fancy font for the lettering. Since they were so small they would only take five or so minutes each. Quinn said it hardly hurt at all. I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping he wasn't just pretending for my sake. The tattooist put a white strip over the tattoo and said it was my turn. Quinn and I traded seats and I bit my lip, intertwining my fingers tightly with Quinn's.
"It's only small, it will hardly hurt at all," Quinn comforted me.
"I don't have a very big pain tolerance."
I kept my eyes on Quinn. Needles didn't bother me, but I'd rather not look at it, if I could avoid it. I was surprised to find Quinn was right, it didn't hurt alot. Saying that, I was glad I had decided on a small tattoo, I could imagine how much a big tattoo would hurt. I think the alcohol definitely helped alittle. The tattooist warned us we might bleed a little bit more because of the alcohol, but we hadn't had a lot to drink so it shouldn't be too bad. He assured us it was fine to continue drinking afterwards.
After paying we walked out of the parlor, hand in hand. Nothing could have wiped off the huge smile on my face at that moment.
- - -
As we walked back inside the apartment Aaron handed us both a drink and he asked us about our tattoos. I told him everything excitedly, but he was disappointed he wouldn't be able to see them until tomorrow. It was a good idea to keep them covered while we were drinking. I followed Quinn around for an hour or so, as he talked to people about their album. But a couple of drinks later I was getting sick of standing up and decided to go sit down, next to Kyle. I had expected Quinn to follow me, but it wasn't until I sat down that I noticed he hadn't. I told Kyle all about our tattoos and then looked round for Quinn. Isaw him by the doorway of the living room talking to a girl. Kyle's words faded out from me as I watched Quinn and the girl. My vision was blurred from the alcohol and they were on the opposite end of the room. I squinted, but it didn't help me see any better. I thought I saw her hand him something but Icouldn't tell what it was. He looked like he was angry with her, but he took whatever it was and put it in his pocket. I drifted off to sleep on the couch before I could ask Quinn what it was.
- - -
I woke up expecting to be on the couch still, but I found myself in bed. I had no memory of how I got there. I opened my eyes, to see Quinn watching me.
"Were you watching me sleep?" I asked.
"Maybe,"he smiled, "how's your wrist feeling?"
It took me a second to click to what he was talking about. We had gotten tattoos.
"I can't believe we did that," I laughed, "my parents would kill me if they found out."
"I don't think my dad would be too happy either."
Quinn hadn't talked to his dad since the day he had moved out. I was glad I had made it up with my parents. It was always good to know I had them there to talk to if I needed it. That's why I had to make sure they didn't find out about this tattoo. It would be easy enough to hide from them with long sleeves. I lay there for a while thinking about the night, not that I could remember a lot. I had clearly had a lot more to drink after we came back than I thought. I had fallen asleep on the couch, but something had happened before that. Quinn had been talking to someone. That's right he'd been talking to a girl. If I remembered rightly she had given him something, which he'd put in his pocket. But that's all I could remember.
"Last night when I went to talk to Kyle, you were talking to someone, who was it?" I asked sitting up, but I realized I didn't feel very good so I lay back down again.
"When, I talked to a lot of people last night," he laughed.
I remembered there had been at least a couple of hundred people at the party.
"It was a girl, and she handed you something," I said, although I wondered if maybe I had just dreamt it, I couldn't even remember what the girl had looked like.
"I have no idea. Maybe it's your imagination? You'd had a lot to drink, a lot more than me," he laughed.
"True,"I said.
My splitting headache confirmed that. I was sure I had seen it though, I really didn't know. Quinn got out of bed, and I assumed he was going for a smoke so I decided to stay in bed a little longer. That lasted only a few seconds when I decided Ihad to check something, just to ease my mind. I crawled across to the edge of the bed and picked up the hoodie Quinn had been wearing last night. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for but I checked the pockets and found nothing. Quinn must have been right. It's weird the way alcohol could affect your mind, it had made me imagine that. I climbed back in bed I just needed to close my eyes for a little longer.
"Kate, I don't want you to panic," Quinn said a couple of minutes later, standing at the doorway, looking concerned.
"Oh god, what is it?" I groaned. I wasn't ready for whatever it was.
"Turns out the paparazzi were out last night, they got us walking home from the tattoo parlor and it was obvious we had gotten tattoos. It's in the local newspaper and on the internet," he said calmly, not wanting me to get worked up.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I yelled, leaping out of bed.
My parents could not find about this. I had just made things right with them. Why did life have to do this to me? As soon as things were right something had to go wrong.
"Try not to panic," Quinn said.
But it was too late I was pulling on my jeans and a t-shirt.
"Of course I'm going to panic! My parents are going to go mental!" I said, trying to think up a way they could not find out.
They wouldn't see it on the internet, but they got the newspaper delivered to their house everyday. One of their friends would tell them anyway, there was no way Icould get around this. However they found out, they would know by the end of the day.
"I think its best you tell them before they find out from someone, or somewhere else. It's almost ten o'clock you might still have time," Quinn said reasonably.
"Good idea," I picked up my cellphone from the top of the dresser and gave a pained look at Quinn, "Oh shit, I can't tell them!"
"It's alright, yes you can. Go outside, get some fresh air," Quinn squeezed my arm.
I took his advice and walked downstairs and out of the apartment. I breathed in the fresh air, I already felt sick, and thinking about the phone call just made me worse. I sat down on the front step and fumbled to dial the numbers. Mom answered on the first ring. I wondered if she would have answered if they had caller ID.
"Mom, I need to talk to you about something," I said, my heart in my throat.
"So it's true? I already know what you're going to tell me. We read the newspaper,"she sighed, and I could hear the disappointment in her voice. The newspaper had already been this morning.
"You do?" I asked, I thought Dad would have called to yell at me by now.
"Yes. How could you do that, Kate? That's going to be there forever! What is it of?"I had never heard my mom yell like that before.
I could hear dad also yelling, in the background. I was pleased he hadn't been the one that answered the phone.
"I know that Mom, it's only small and it's significant to me," I tried to reason with her.
I told her what it was of and cringed as I heard her gasp and repeat what I had said to dad.
"You got a tattoo of your boyfriend's initials on your wrist? What were you thinking? Have you gone completely insane?" She shouted.
I knew no matter what I said I wasn't going to be able to reason with her, not now anyway. I could just imagine the look on my dad's face when mom told her what it was of. It was just a letter. They were definitely over-reacting this time. It wasn't up to them, it was my life, and I was happy with it.
"I could come around and talk to you?" I offered, trying to remain level-headed. Maybe if they saw the tattoo they would realize it wasn't so bad.
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. Your father needs some time to calm down. I'll speak to you later, Kate," I was left listening to the dial tone, which hurt my head.
She hadn't even said goodbye to me, she'd just hung up on me. She must have been really angry at me. Surely this tattoo couldn't have caused such a big reaction. I couldn't understand why they thought it was such a big deal, the tattoo was small and I didn't regret it. I closed the lid of my phone and put my head in my hands.
"Were they mad?" Quinn asked, sitting down and putting his arm around me. I leaned into him.
"They hate me," I cried. It felt like they hated me, I was sure they did.
"They don't hate you."
"Well they dislike me," I muttered, "got any smokes left?"
I looked up but avoided eye contact, not sure if he would give me one. He didn't say anything, as he moved his arm from around me and I felt him pulling a smoke out from his pocket and lighting it.
I took it from him and mumbled, "Thanks."
"I'm going to have shower, you'll be okay. They'll forgive you. You're brave, there's no way I could have told my dad," he said, kissing the top of my head and walked back inside.
He was lucky, he didn't have to worry what his parents thought about what he did. He was completely independent from them. Maybe that's what I needed. Don't get me wrong, I loved my parents, but I was so sick of trying to keep up with pleasing them, I had tried for too long and I was over it. I just wanted to be myself, and do whatever the hell I wanted to do. So that's what I was going to do. From now on I wasn't going to worry about what they would think of my decisions. I was seventeen years old and flatting with my boyfriend and his friends. I had a job, I could support myself. When my parents were ready to forgive me they could do it themselves. I wasn't going to go apologizing this time. I had gotten a tattoo because I wanted to, I didn't regret it, and Iwouldn't. If they had a problem with it, that was their fault. This moment was the start of a new way of life for me. I lived for me now, and no one else.
The moment I heard the word leave Quinn's lips, it was unbelievable. I don't really have the words to describe how I felt. Although it had been a possibility all along, I had never even considered it actually becoming reality. I didn't know the impact that just one little word could have. That word was one. The single had gone to number one. On the billboard charts and the digital charts. Number one, it had beaten every other song on the charts at the time. In the top ten would have been incredible enough, but it had gone all the way to number one. Who would have ever thought? It was something we had all wished for. Wished, but never expected.
Over the next few weeks the band was going to be busy recording their album, they hoped to have it ready for release by the end of the month. I wouldn't go with them all the time to the recording studio, even though it was the school holidays. I had decided to work as much as I could in the holidays to earn abit of money, so I only went once in the first week of recording. Everything had gone smoothly and they had gotten half of the recording done. They were all having a lot of fun, and I enjoyed watching them play, trying to make the album the best it could be. I was so happy for them, more than words could say.
It wasn't until the second, and final, week of recording that things slowly started to fall apart. I was sitting on the other side of the glass, where the audio engineer was working away. Quinn was singing the first verse of the eighth track, and went slightly off tune. He stopped and swore under his breath.
"It's alright, just start from the beginning," the audio engineer said calmly.
Quinn started again, but made a mistake with the lyrics this time. He stopped, looking angry with himself.
"It's been a long day, just start again," the man said, remaining patient. He was right, it had been a long day, it was three o'clock, and they'd left before Ihad even gotten up this morning. Quinn moved towards the microphone again, this time closing his eyes as he began to sing. He got a little further but sang the wrong lyrics again. He took a step back, swore, and pulled the headphones off, before storming out of the room. I looked at the man beside me.
"How has he been until now?" I asked.
I was sure the guys would have told me if he had been struggling.
"He was perfectly fine last week, the problem really only started today, although he's been getting more irritated by little things in the last two days," he said, giving the guys an apologetic look through the window.
They had purposely not been telling me.
"Ah, sorry you had to tell me that," I said, getting up from my seat.
It was up to me to look for Quinn, to comfort him. As it always was, although Icouldn't complain, I could handle his emotions better than anyone else. Iwalked out of the small room and into the building entrance. I could see Quinn through the front door having a smoke. I slowly walked to the door, taking adeep breath, I hadn't spoken to him all day and I didn't know if he wanted to have a conversation with me.
"Hey,"I said standing beside him, casually.
Quinn said nothing he just looked at me and nodded.
"I'm sure it's stressful," I said sympathetically.
Quinn still said nothing, and I was losing my patience with him.
"I can't help you if you don't say anything!"
"I didn't ask for your help," he said taking a puff from his smoke.
I was a little surprised by the tone of his voice. But I just had to remind myself it wasn't my fault.
"I see," I said quietly, and turned to walk back inside.
"Kate, I'm sorry," he said, holding my hand.
I looked up at him, trying to read what he was feeling, but it did no good. He had shut up his emotions again he was getting even better at that.
"I'm just tired, I need a good sleep," he admitted, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe.
"I know. But, you've got to really try with this Quinn. You're making your first album. Just a few weeks and this will all be over and you'll probably get to go on tour or something right? Won't that be rewarding enough?" I encouraged him, knowing more than anything that touring and playing shows was what Quinn longed for most. Playing in front of a crowd was something he couldn't describe. It was just like a natural high for him.
"You're right. We should be finished by the end of this week, then all they need to do is mix it and we're done," he smiled, although it looked forced.
I still couldn't tell if I had gotten through to him completely, but we walked back inside for another hours worth of trouble-free recording.
"You're all finished, well done," Simon said at the end of the week.
They had been working solidly for two weeks and they were finally finished with recording everything they needed to. Now all that had to happen was for it to be mixed and put together, and then it was ready to go on sale. I couldn't wait to hear the final product, but we had to be patient. I knew everyone was going to have a hard time sitting round while it was getting done. But it would be worth it when the album was released.
- - -
"Good luck," I whispered, giving Quinn a kiss before walking out of the dressing room with them.
It was the night of the album release and they were having a concert at the venue where they had opened for Unfortunate Lives. It had taken only just over aweek to mix the album and the band had got to have a little input in the album cover and insert. They were really happy with the album and couldn't wait for the world to hear it. This was their first real concert, their first sold out concert. It held two thousand people and had sold out in two weeks. Their first single had definitely bought them some fans already. I couldn't wait to watch the show. I could tell just from watching the sound check that the show was going to be good, they hadn't had their own concert yet so this was a big thing for them. However, they were almost immune to the idea of new experiences now that they were happening so often.
Quinn was shaking from nerves, but I could tell he couldn't wait to get out there in front of the crowd. They walked on stage and I sat back to enjoy the concert. The houselights were still off and the crowd's cheers and screams made me a little anxious, not even able to think how the band was feeling right now. The lights turned on and the music started, the show had begun.
- - -
"Congratulations on your single getting to number one!" A young woman said to Quinn as she walked by at the album release party later that night, which was held at our apartment.
I noticed the tattoo on her neck, it was of a rose. I wondered if there was astory behind that or if she had just liked the picture. I asked Quinn what he thought.
"I don't know, babe," he laughed.
We'd had a couple of drinks already, we weren't drunk but it was definitely starting to go to my head.
"Do you want a tattoo?" I asked, curious.
"Yeah, one day."
"Really, me too," I said, jumping up from my seat, "Let's go get one now!"
"What?"he said, surprised by my sudden interest, but I could tell he didn't think it was a bad idea, "Aren't you too young?"
"There are places around here that will tattoo anyone," I said, grabbing his hand.
"I don't know what I want though," he said not moving.
"I have an idea, come on, please?" I asked, and he got up from the couch. We walked through a group of people to the front door.
"Where are you two going?" Aaron asked as we passed him on the way out of the apartment.
"We're getting tattoos," I smiled.
The expression on his face made Quinn and I laugh, he definitely hadn't been expecting that answer. I think I heard him mutter, oh no, under his breath, but I ignored it. We had been drinking, and I wasn't sure we'd be doing this if alcohol hadn't been involved. The truth was I had always wanted a tattoo, but had never had enough courage to get it done. Now that I wasn't living with my parents, it would be a lot easier to hide it around them, until I was brave enough to tell them anyway. They didn't approve of tattoos either. There wasn't really a lot they approved of now I thought about it. I knew they were just being protective of me, but I felt like they were too protective. At least now that I had moved out from their house I was able to do things on my own, without the risk of getting into trouble. I liked it much better that way.
We didn't have to walk far down the street to find a couple of tattoo parlors that were still open. The first said we had to be eighteen, and I was disappointed, but luckily the second had agreed to do it, clearly recognizing who Quinn was.
"Can I borrow a pen and some paper please?" I asked the woman sitting at the reception desk.
She had tattoos all up her arms and several piercings on her face. Yet, she was still pretty. She smiled and handed over what I had asked for. I drew a simple sketch of the idea I had, it was only small. It wasn't a masterpiece but it showed, basically, what I meant. Quinn agreed it was a good idea and we went to discuss it with the tattooist.
"I want a music note with a Q beside it," I said pointed to a little music note that lay on a sheet of different pictures.
"And I want the same, but a K, not a Q," he smiled at me.
"Are you sure you guys want to do this?" the tattooist asked.
"Yes, otherwise we wouldn't be here," I said, I had made up my mind, and I didn't want anyone to try and convince me otherwise.
"Where do you want them then?"
"On my left wrist," I said looking at Quinn to see what he thought, he nodded.
I hoped getting a tattoo done would hurt less since I had alcohol in my system.
"Okay, who's getting it done first?" the tattooist asked.
"Quinn is," I said immediately.
He seemed to be okay with that. He got up and sat in the chair closest to the tattooist and gave me an excited look. I held his right hand as the tattooist began to work. I had drawn a quick sketch of how big we wanted the tattoo it would only be very small. We had also chosen a fancy font for the lettering. Since they were so small they would only take five or so minutes each. Quinn said it hardly hurt at all. I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping he wasn't just pretending for my sake. The tattooist put a white strip over the tattoo and said it was my turn. Quinn and I traded seats and I bit my lip, intertwining my fingers tightly with Quinn's.
"It's only small, it will hardly hurt at all," Quinn comforted me.
"I don't have a very big pain tolerance."
I kept my eyes on Quinn. Needles didn't bother me, but I'd rather not look at it, if I could avoid it. I was surprised to find Quinn was right, it didn't hurt alot. Saying that, I was glad I had decided on a small tattoo, I could imagine how much a big tattoo would hurt. I think the alcohol definitely helped alittle. The tattooist warned us we might bleed a little bit more because of the alcohol, but we hadn't had a lot to drink so it shouldn't be too bad. He assured us it was fine to continue drinking afterwards.
After paying we walked out of the parlor, hand in hand. Nothing could have wiped off the huge smile on my face at that moment.
- - -
As we walked back inside the apartment Aaron handed us both a drink and he asked us about our tattoos. I told him everything excitedly, but he was disappointed he wouldn't be able to see them until tomorrow. It was a good idea to keep them covered while we were drinking. I followed Quinn around for an hour or so, as he talked to people about their album. But a couple of drinks later I was getting sick of standing up and decided to go sit down, next to Kyle. I had expected Quinn to follow me, but it wasn't until I sat down that I noticed he hadn't. I told Kyle all about our tattoos and then looked round for Quinn. Isaw him by the doorway of the living room talking to a girl. Kyle's words faded out from me as I watched Quinn and the girl. My vision was blurred from the alcohol and they were on the opposite end of the room. I squinted, but it didn't help me see any better. I thought I saw her hand him something but Icouldn't tell what it was. He looked like he was angry with her, but he took whatever it was and put it in his pocket. I drifted off to sleep on the couch before I could ask Quinn what it was.
- - -
I woke up expecting to be on the couch still, but I found myself in bed. I had no memory of how I got there. I opened my eyes, to see Quinn watching me.
"Were you watching me sleep?" I asked.
"Maybe,"he smiled, "how's your wrist feeling?"
It took me a second to click to what he was talking about. We had gotten tattoos.
"I can't believe we did that," I laughed, "my parents would kill me if they found out."
"I don't think my dad would be too happy either."
Quinn hadn't talked to his dad since the day he had moved out. I was glad I had made it up with my parents. It was always good to know I had them there to talk to if I needed it. That's why I had to make sure they didn't find out about this tattoo. It would be easy enough to hide from them with long sleeves. I lay there for a while thinking about the night, not that I could remember a lot. I had clearly had a lot more to drink after we came back than I thought. I had fallen asleep on the couch, but something had happened before that. Quinn had been talking to someone. That's right he'd been talking to a girl. If I remembered rightly she had given him something, which he'd put in his pocket. But that's all I could remember.
"Last night when I went to talk to Kyle, you were talking to someone, who was it?" I asked sitting up, but I realized I didn't feel very good so I lay back down again.
"When, I talked to a lot of people last night," he laughed.
I remembered there had been at least a couple of hundred people at the party.
"It was a girl, and she handed you something," I said, although I wondered if maybe I had just dreamt it, I couldn't even remember what the girl had looked like.
"I have no idea. Maybe it's your imagination? You'd had a lot to drink, a lot more than me," he laughed.
"True,"I said.
My splitting headache confirmed that. I was sure I had seen it though, I really didn't know. Quinn got out of bed, and I assumed he was going for a smoke so I decided to stay in bed a little longer. That lasted only a few seconds when I decided Ihad to check something, just to ease my mind. I crawled across to the edge of the bed and picked up the hoodie Quinn had been wearing last night. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for but I checked the pockets and found nothing. Quinn must have been right. It's weird the way alcohol could affect your mind, it had made me imagine that. I climbed back in bed I just needed to close my eyes for a little longer.
"Kate, I don't want you to panic," Quinn said a couple of minutes later, standing at the doorway, looking concerned.
"Oh god, what is it?" I groaned. I wasn't ready for whatever it was.
"Turns out the paparazzi were out last night, they got us walking home from the tattoo parlor and it was obvious we had gotten tattoos. It's in the local newspaper and on the internet," he said calmly, not wanting me to get worked up.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I yelled, leaping out of bed.
My parents could not find about this. I had just made things right with them. Why did life have to do this to me? As soon as things were right something had to go wrong.
"Try not to panic," Quinn said.
But it was too late I was pulling on my jeans and a t-shirt.
"Of course I'm going to panic! My parents are going to go mental!" I said, trying to think up a way they could not find out.
They wouldn't see it on the internet, but they got the newspaper delivered to their house everyday. One of their friends would tell them anyway, there was no way Icould get around this. However they found out, they would know by the end of the day.
"I think its best you tell them before they find out from someone, or somewhere else. It's almost ten o'clock you might still have time," Quinn said reasonably.
"Good idea," I picked up my cellphone from the top of the dresser and gave a pained look at Quinn, "Oh shit, I can't tell them!"
"It's alright, yes you can. Go outside, get some fresh air," Quinn squeezed my arm.
I took his advice and walked downstairs and out of the apartment. I breathed in the fresh air, I already felt sick, and thinking about the phone call just made me worse. I sat down on the front step and fumbled to dial the numbers. Mom answered on the first ring. I wondered if she would have answered if they had caller ID.
"Mom, I need to talk to you about something," I said, my heart in my throat.
"So it's true? I already know what you're going to tell me. We read the newspaper,"she sighed, and I could hear the disappointment in her voice. The newspaper had already been this morning.
"You do?" I asked, I thought Dad would have called to yell at me by now.
"Yes. How could you do that, Kate? That's going to be there forever! What is it of?"I had never heard my mom yell like that before.
I could hear dad also yelling, in the background. I was pleased he hadn't been the one that answered the phone.
"I know that Mom, it's only small and it's significant to me," I tried to reason with her.
I told her what it was of and cringed as I heard her gasp and repeat what I had said to dad.
"You got a tattoo of your boyfriend's initials on your wrist? What were you thinking? Have you gone completely insane?" She shouted.
I knew no matter what I said I wasn't going to be able to reason with her, not now anyway. I could just imagine the look on my dad's face when mom told her what it was of. It was just a letter. They were definitely over-reacting this time. It wasn't up to them, it was my life, and I was happy with it.
"I could come around and talk to you?" I offered, trying to remain level-headed. Maybe if they saw the tattoo they would realize it wasn't so bad.
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. Your father needs some time to calm down. I'll speak to you later, Kate," I was left listening to the dial tone, which hurt my head.
She hadn't even said goodbye to me, she'd just hung up on me. She must have been really angry at me. Surely this tattoo couldn't have caused such a big reaction. I couldn't understand why they thought it was such a big deal, the tattoo was small and I didn't regret it. I closed the lid of my phone and put my head in my hands.
"Were they mad?" Quinn asked, sitting down and putting his arm around me. I leaned into him.
"They hate me," I cried. It felt like they hated me, I was sure they did.
"They don't hate you."
"Well they dislike me," I muttered, "got any smokes left?"
I looked up but avoided eye contact, not sure if he would give me one. He didn't say anything, as he moved his arm from around me and I felt him pulling a smoke out from his pocket and lighting it.
I took it from him and mumbled, "Thanks."
"I'm going to have shower, you'll be okay. They'll forgive you. You're brave, there's no way I could have told my dad," he said, kissing the top of my head and walked back inside.
He was lucky, he didn't have to worry what his parents thought about what he did. He was completely independent from them. Maybe that's what I needed. Don't get me wrong, I loved my parents, but I was so sick of trying to keep up with pleasing them, I had tried for too long and I was over it. I just wanted to be myself, and do whatever the hell I wanted to do. So that's what I was going to do. From now on I wasn't going to worry about what they would think of my decisions. I was seventeen years old and flatting with my boyfriend and his friends. I had a job, I could support myself. When my parents were ready to forgive me they could do it themselves. I wasn't going to go apologizing this time. I had gotten a tattoo because I wanted to, I didn't regret it, and Iwouldn't. If they had a problem with it, that was their fault. This moment was the start of a new way of life for me. I lived for me now, and no one else.
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