Page 54 of Beautiful Lies
“Yeah, it has.”
Back in high school, we used to talk late into the night. When she still lived under her parents’ roof and finding time together was a challenge, often thwarted by her mother who tried to keep us apart.
“Did you do any interesting tattoos today?”
I flexed my right hand, still cramped after today’s six-hour session. “I finished tattooing a guy’s sleeve. He wanted a Japanese theme. I did koi fish, cherry blossoms, a Shinto temple… a samurai warrior… a mountain with the Kanji symbols for the quote: Fall down seven times, stand up eight.”
“That sounds amazing,” she said, and I heard the excitement in her voice. Ava had always been fascinated with Japanese culture, fashion, food, and design. I wondered if she still had the Japanese tea set I gave her for her eighteenth birthday. “I hope you got photos.”
I did, but they were going in my portfolio, not on social media.
“Ugh. You didn’t,” she said. “You need to show off your work.”
“Lee, Gavin, and AJ were uploading photos all day. Perfect for your little Instagrammer heart.”
“I wantyouto be on there.”
“My customers find me by word of mouth.” I was booked months in advance. That was good enough for me. “That’s the best advertising.”
“Maybe,” she muttered. “But it would still be nice if you showcased your talent.”
I didn’t want my name on social media, and I didn’t want photos showcasing my talent or anything else about my life. All I wanted to do was fly under the radar, run a successful business, and do my tattooing. End of story. The last thing I needed was for Keira Shaughnessy to track me down. Or, worse, Ronan. He knew where I was, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. A year later and I was still looking over my shoulder, wondering if anyone was out to get me. For the first time in my life, I owned a gun, a Glock I kept in my bedside table. I hoped I would never need to use it.
“Listen, Ava, do me a favor. Don’t put me on your social media or Forever Ink’s social media. I don’t want photos of myself out there, I don’t want anyone to have easy access to every little thing I do in a day. I want no part of it, understand?” My voice sounded harsher than I’d intended but I wanted her to know I was serious.
“Why do you have an issue with social media?”
“I want to keep my personal life private.”
“Sometimes you’re so much like Killian.”
When it came to social media, we shared the same view. Back when Killian was a UFC superstar, Ava had built his brand through social media. She had done such a good job that he’d had half a million followers who knew what he ate for all his meals, how many hours a day he trained, his favorite music… they conjectured on the meaning of every tattoo on his body and virtually invaded his privacy. No, thank you.
“You guys are doing okay though, right?”
“Yeah, it’s all good.” Killian had offered to help me move, and Eden said it hadn’t come from her. That was a huge step in the right direction, and I wanted it to continue that way.
I lit another cigarette and wandered over to the window, looking up at the orange-tinged moon. “Do you think the man in the moon is lonely?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “But when he looks down on earth, he sees all the problems people have created and he feels safer where he is.”
“Or maybe he sees the rolling green hills and the ocean and the desert and he’s jealous. Like, ‘what the hell, I’ve got a load of moon dust and craters and they get mountains, cities, and beaches.’”
“The grass is always greener from afar.”
Her words made me sad and angry in equal measure. Ava used to be an optimist. Had I done this to her? “When did you become a pessimist?”
She didn’t answer the question. “Would I choose safety if it meant I had to give up all my beautiful memories?”
“Would you?”Please say no.
“Would you?” she countered.
“No. You’re in every one of my beautiful memories. That would be like cutting out a piece of my heart.”
“You’ve always been so brave.”
“In what way?” Some would call me a coward. Escaping into a world of drugs. Brave? Not so much.
