Page 27 of When Love Becomes A Need
“Yeah. Send copies of your pictures out, book parties or events, anything to get your name out there. Don’t wait for them to come to you.”
Normally I would have finished this tattoo and sent the person on their way, but with Fatima, I was taking my time with it. It was a simple piece that should have taken thirty minutes, if that, but I was prolonging it. This was the first real conversation I’ve had with her and she was easy to talk to. Oddly, I wasn’t ready for it to end.
“You know, you’re right.” She paused for a second. “I usually take pictures and keep them hidden, just building a portfolio I never put on display. This was the first time I actually submitted my work, and I got rejected, so it left me in a weird place.”
“So, find other ways to use your talent. I’m sure someone out there wants pictures taken for a baby shower, birthday, or something. Don’t box yourself into only working for these high-end companies who don’t really give a fuck about you for real.”
Fatima was quiet, which was fine withme. The silence wasn’t awkward or forced. It was comfortable. She was going over what I just said, I could see it all on her face. One thing I learned about Fatima from the few times I saw her was that she wore her feelings on her face.
Fatima appeared to have a good head on her shoulders, but she also seemed like she didn’t have someone that would push her to her full potential either.
“Can I ask you something?” She asked after a while.
Normally I would say no, but for her, I allowed it. “Shoot.”
“You and your sister seem so different. You have the same mom and dad?”
I chuckled. “Yep, grew up in the same house and everything. Autumn’s always been like that though. Since we were kids, she always was eager to meet new people and make new friends.”
“And I take it you’re the opposite?”
“If you want to say that. I got who I need in my life for real. I’m not into meeting a whole lot of new people for whatever reason.”
“And what about a relationship? Your sister seems in love with being in love.”
“Yeah, she is. She watched my parents love each other and yearned for that.”
“And you?”
“I realized that love ain’t shit but a disappointment.” My response was dry and unenthusiastic.
Fatima got quiet. I knew she was probably thrown off by how harsh I sounded, but it was the truth.
“What about you? Any siblings?” I asked, finishing her tattoo up.
“Uh yeah, two younger brothers by my dad.”
“You close?”
“No,” she blurted. The way she said it I knew it was more to the story. She had a faraway look in her eyes as if she was in deep thought.
“All done,” I told her, giving her wrist one final wipe.
Fatima brought her attention back to me and looked down. She brought her wrist to her face and examined the tattoo.
“It looks great. I love it!” She flashed me a smile.
A smile that warmed my heart.What the hell is wrong with me?
I always had people compliment my work, but hearing Fatima do itgave me another level of satisfaction. One thing I never needed was approval or hype from other people, but hearing Fatima give it to me had a nigga feeling good inside.
I stood up and grabbed the stuff to wrap her wrist up. Walking back, I stood in front of her and grabbed her wrist.
“You gone let me do another one for you?” I asked, staring down at her.
Fatima’s eyes found me. They were low.
“Uhm, yeah, sure.”
