Chapter 5

Of course Mark had read his diary. And of course Mark had given him a truckload of crap about it. And of course, Kris was a big boy, certainly not sulking about it and definitely, definitely did not ignore his best friend the next week or so.

During this time Kris started hanging out with Kim more often but still nothing happened between them. Kris had taken it upon himself to show her around, taking her different places in Canada and helping her with English.

Kim was 'normal pretty'. As in pretty but not overly beautiful. She had small crooked eyes covered with thick black horn-glasses. She had thin lips and long black hair. She practically screamed ordinary and yet Kris thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She didn't share much of herself with him, mostly letting him take control of the conversation, laughing and replying at the right moments. It's not that she was a prude, she just didn't care much for skin-ship, except for the mandatory punch when Kris was being annoying.

Then out of nowhere, Kim started to change. At first it was small things like dropping her glasses in favor of contact lenses. Her ponytail was replaced by wavy locks, make up, high heels. But worst of all, in Kris's opinion, all her fluffy sweaters had been substituted with revealing outfits. Kris did love the sweaters even though seeing her skin was a nice change. Of course that wasn't really the worst part. The worst part was that she had somehow managed to become part of the popular clique, which resulted in her and Kris spending less and less time together and soon they didn't speak at all.

It was a sad puppy-eyed Kris that greeted Mark on his doorstep after he returned home from basketball practice one afternoon. The oversized puppy had sniffed and pouted, whispering the magic words:" Help me." And of course it was Mark to the rescue.  

Mark had grabbed a depressed Kris by the arm and skipped happily down the road towards their first stop.

The first place on the list was a tattoo parlor. Not that he was getting a tattoo but an ear-piercing. To be completely honest, Kris may have been suffering just the tiniest, teeny tiny, itsy-bitsy bit from belonephobia. Which is really just a fancy term for being chicken of needles. Kris took one look at the parlor.

"No way in hell."

Mark, being the responsible friend he so was , made a fist with his right hand and in one swift movement knocked out Kris's secondary head. From there it was pretty easy dragging a groaning Kris inside the tattoo place (Well, at least after he was done screaming bloody murder, clutching his dear member. Maybe crying a little bit?)  

But as soon as they were inside and approached by a 350 pounds heavy man covered in ink, Kris stopped complaining instantly.

"Yo Tony, what's up?"

Mark stepped forward to greet the intimidating man.

"Well if it isn't little baby Jones and who is this? Fresh meat?"

The man known as Tony slapped Mark's back before pointing to the new meat aka Kris.

"This is my dog Kris. Kris Tony, Tony Kris. Tony here used to babysit me when I was a kid."

"Yeah, and sometimes it feels as if I still am, only this time I'm not getting paid."

He let out a loud chuckle before reaching his hand out towards Kris.

"Hey, how's it hanging?"

Kris hesitantly shook the much larger hand.

"It isn't. I'm pretty sure it went back inside... Hiding."

Tony gave him a puzzled look before Mark cut in.

"He was being a wimp, so I clogged him," he shrugged.

"You're awful," Kris growled.

"You're the one who asked for my help so shut up and be grateful."

Mark then continued to grab his best friend by the balls and dragged a whimpering Kris into a chair. "He would like an ear piercing."

"I want a what now?!" A dumbfounded Kris asked.

"Kris here is in love with some chick who won't look his way. Not that I care. But as his best friend I feel obligated to be the best wingman I can be."

Tony gave Baby Jones a proud smile before turning to Kris.

"If its chicks you dig, you've come to the right place man. Chicks love bad boys. You see this?"

Tony or Big Fat, took of his white wife-beater in one swift motion, pointing to one of the smaller tattoos on his back.

"She was my first. Tattoo that is."

 On his right shoulder blade a picture of a my little pony was etched onto his skin.

"... I was drunk. Don't ask. Anyway that cutey scored me 5 phone numbers one evening. In the first 2 hours. I could've gotten more but I went home with... the last phone number."

"For real?" Kris asked skeptically.

"Do I look like a liar to you? Of course I'm telling the truth! Now let me work my magic."

In the end, Kris had taken one look at the needle in Tony's hand before fresh tears were pouring from his tightly shut eyes. Mark had, had to manhandle the poor boy by straddling his lap, pinning Kris's arms to his chest. After that it was simply a question of holding his head still which Tony somehow managed with ease. The moment the needle pierced through his ear Kris stopped moving completely, in favor of fainting like a damsel in distress.

When he finally woke up, his ear was throbbing with pain but what was even worse was the awful taste in his mouth.

"You threw up before you passed out."

Mark, now in a different shirt handed him a glass of water and a smack to the head.

 "That, is for being a ."

Kris apologetically looked to Tony who was in the middle of mopping the floor.

"Arh, no worries. I used to clean as a part time job. This is nothing compared to what I saw every day in Kindergarten." He shuddered. "Children. Cute as but a pain in the to clean up after. Not to mention, always missing the toilet bowl." Tony sighed.

Deeming his floor free from stomach acids, he grabbed a small mirror and held it up in front of Kris. Kris did not like it. Not one bit.

Little did he know that he would indeed be coming back, not for one, not two but 7 more piercings and two tattoos the following years.

A/N
Because I'm having so much fun writing this, have another chapter :p
Sorry for the slow intro but I want this fic to be excruciatingly long xD

Sorry, not sorry.