The door swung open and Chanyeol rushed inside, tugging at the buckles on his leather jacket.

            “You’re late,” Minseok observed from behind the bar.

            “I know, I know,” Chanyeol hissed back defensively. He disappeared into the back room and a moment later he stood beside Minseok, turning the liquor bottles on the shelves so all the labels showed properly.

            They were paid, but truthfully, they worked for tips. Chanyeol was quite the charmer, and when he flashed his disarming grin, or showed some muscle, the ladies would swoon and practically empty their wallets into the tip jar (often along with their numbers on scraps of paper smudged with lipstick). He must have owed somebody money, since today he was sporting a lone gray tank top, showcasing his shapely arms. But what caught Minseok’s eye was the dark image along his right bicep. A phoenix, soaring from his muscle up to where it wove in to his shoulder.

            Chanyeol smirked when he caught him looking, “Tsk tsk, openly staring? Do I tell Luhan or would you rather break the news to him?”

            Minseok rolled his eyes, “I was looking at the tattoo. I’m thinking about getting one.”

           “Oh” Chanyeol’s teasing demeanor changed, and it seemed actually serious, “well in that case, you should know that it hurts like a . I got this pretty cheap, but lessening the blow to your wallet doesn’t lessen the pain. You have to be pretty confident in what you want, too. This doodle won’t fade, it’s a graffiti you have to live with, and die with. You have to ask yourself: ‘What do I want with me forever?’”

            The bell above the door tinkled when Minseok entered the shop. It was run-down, to put it politely, and in such a sketchy neighborhood Minseok was wondering how Chanyeol ever found the place, and even more impressive, made it back to tell the tale. Minseok was finally beginning to wonder why he came here. When Chanyeol wrote the address down for him, he tucked it in his pocket, and when his shift was finally over he went out to find the place without thinking it through. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

            “Can I help you?” The man behind the counter had a tee shirt on, but it did little to hide the full arms of ink he had, which s down his fingers and creeped up the sides of his neck.

            “I’d like a tattoo.” Minseok said, hoping his voice sounded more confident that he felt.

            The man asked for his ID. He looked at the card, eyes flitting up to Minseok before squinting down at it, “Is this your real age?”

            Minseok would have sighed if he weren’t so uneasy at the sight of this man, “Yes.”

            The man shrugged like he didn’t quite believe him but also didn’t quite care enough to make a fuss over it, and beckoned him toward the back. Minseok gulped and followed, feet shaking.

            Just a few minutes later, Minseok laid shirtless on his front, against a leather bed that felt cold on his chest. The man rubbed something cool and damp across Minseok’s shoulder that made the room smell like rubbing alcohol and Minseok’s skin burn slightly. Minseok closed his eyes and remembered Luhan waiting for him at home. Somehow, that made him feel less afraid, and he took a deep breath.

            “Do you know what you want?” Minseok heard a buzzing sound and a machine was wheeled over as the man sat beside him.

            “You have to ask yourself: ‘What do I want with me forever?’”

            “Yes, I know what I want.”

Author's note: Hey ^^ thank you so much for clicking/reading! I'll be posting the actual story soon, please subscribe if you're interested. Thanks~~~