and I am not throwing away my shot Who: Sasha Whittaker and Maizie Wolfe Where: Noa's tattoo shop, the Dog Park. What: Sasha finally get’s to be a legit tattoo artist and Maizie is his first client. When: March 5th, 2019 - Afternoon
Oh, am I talkin’ too loud? Sometimes I get over excited, shoot off at the mouth I never had a group of friends before
To say that Sasha was buzzing with excitement would have been an understatement. He was practically bouncing off the walls, but mentally, because he was ninety-nine percent sure that if he bounced around the tattoo shop Noa might revoke his privilege to actually tattoo someone. And it wasn’t just someone today, part of his excitement was that his first tattoo was going to be for a friend. Maizie was getting the words “Until the very end” on the back of her neck and trusted him to do it justice, which was a big deal.
Like a monumentally big deal!
A responsibility that Sasha didn’t take lightly, which was evident in the way that he kept checking and rechecking everything at Noa’s tattoo station. He didn’t have a chair of space of his own yet - still he was the one sitting on the stool that Noa usually used and he had the transfer in his hand for the tattoo he had worked up per Maizie’s request and the consult they had done earlier while Savannah had been getting her tattoo from Noa.
“Now, you’re like really, really sure about this, right?” Sasha questioned Maizie, studying his friend closely before he went any further with this whole tattooing business. “Because you can like back out and have Noa do it, I totally won’t hold that against you.” He hadn’t kept it a secret that this was his first tattoo on a person, Sasha wouldn’t have felt right about Maizie being unaware of that fact.
“Totally, completely sure,” Maizie answered immediately. There had been plenty of opportunities to back out, starting from the moment she’d come down to the front entrance of the library and finishing up with any point during her discussion with Sasha about exactly what she wanted her tattoo to look like. (A tattoo! She could still hardly believe it was happening. Just the thought made all kinds of butterflies go crazy in her stomach, both from excitement and nervousness.) But this was something she really wanted to do -- the fulfillment of a long time daydream, even -- and there was no way in hell she wasn’t going to go through with it.
“And I definitely want it to be you. If I wanted a tattoo from Noa, I would have asked her to do it from the start.” She looked around the inside of the shop, her glance taking in the waiting tools of Noa and Sasha’s trade. It wasn’t steeling herself, exactly, since she wasn’t really worried about the pain or anything like that. It was more like taking it all in, so she could remember it all to tell Liv about later.
“Don’t get me wrong, she’s super good at it, but … I don’t know. Having this done is important to me, so I kind of like knowing that it’s a friend who’s doing the honors.” Maizie shrugged slightly, but then her nonchalant expression quickly morphed into an excited grin. “So, go on. What’s the first step, Mr. Tattoo Artist?”
Maizie’s confirmation that she was sure about this eased Sasha’s mind and he definitely felt a touch of pride about the fact that while she could have chosen the more experienced tattoo artist, his friend had picked him because of the relationship they had. He also thought it showed just how much trust she had in him, trust he intended to keep by not screwing this up. He had sat for more than his fair share of tattoos, all of which were done by Noa, so even if he hadn’t been an apprentice, he knew the drill in terms of what the process was. The real test was if he could seamlessly walk Maizie through it without both freaking out himself (because oh my god he was inking a real tattoo) or making her nervous.
“Maiz, it means a lot that you’re letting me do this,” Sasha began, wanting to express that feeling aloud before he got serious. Though the smile remained on his face at being called ‘Mr. Tattoo Artist.’ Shit. This was real. “Alright, the first step is to have you lay down,” he motioned towards the tattoo chair (which was laid flat out and looked more like a table now.). “And then I’ll have to clean the area and then I’ll apply the transfer.” He stopped there, deciding he’d explain the rest of the process once they got to the point of him putting needle to skin.
Following Sasha’s directions, Maizie settled into what she hoped would be a position she could hold for however long it would take to do the tattoo. Really complicated designs involved longer sessions, she knew, but hers was more simple, so maybe it would go quicker than she expected. About a million butterflies were flapping around in her stomach -- not from nerves, really, but just from that feeling of being on the edge of something unknown. The rush of a new experience. For a long time it had seemed like the whole zombie outbreak meant the end of this kind of thing, that she’d be library-bound for the rest of her life, but there had been a lot of ‘firsts’ lately, and Maizie intended to soak up every one that came her way.
While he waited for Maizie to get comfortable on the tattoo chair, Sasha located the items he would need to clean up the area in which she wanted tattooed. “Not that I think you need reassuring or anything, but I’ve see Noa do this a million times,” he commented. “Plus, she’s right over there watching me like a hawk, so I’m pretty sure she won’t let me fuck this up.” Sasha waved a hand over to his mentor who sat off to the side, definitely paying attention to them, but still giving Sasha space to work.
“And I’m kind of scared of what your step-mom would do to me if I gave you a hideous tattoo.” Sasha added, not quite looking over at Savannah who sat with Noa off to the side.
Maizie didn’t look over either, partly because of her position in the chair but also because she didn’t want to clue Savannah into the fact that they were talking about her. Of course, she and Noa could very well be talking about them -- that wouldn’t be surprising at all -- but it was kind of more comfortable to pretend that the two older women weren’t right there, chaperoning.
With a soft laugh, she replied, her voice low, “Oh, I definitely wouldn’t be lying here if Savannah didn’t have faith in your ability to give me a non-hideous tattoo. She’d never let me within a foot of your needle, or whatever.” A frown crossed Maizie’s face. “Is it a needle? Or, like, a tattoo gun? I don’t know the right term, but you get what I’m saying.”
Shifting slightly to resettle and try to loosen some of the anticipation in her muscles, she said, “Anyway, I’m ready for the transfer.” Having shed the top layer of clothing before lying down, the back of her tanktop was low enough to accommodate the placement of the tattoo -- she’d been careful about picking out a shirt that would work.
While Maizie spoke Sasha began prepping the area where he would be doing the tattoo, making sure that with each step he was taking his time and doing it right. Not only because Noa was undoubtedly watching him, but because it was Maizie and she meant a great deal to him. “So, I should like take it as a compliment that your step-mom is totally cool with me doing your tattoo?” He questioned with a ghost of a grin as he leaned down so he was in Maizie’s line of sight. “And it’s a needle, but some people call it a gun,” Sasha had never asked Noa why that was. “I generally call it a iron, don’t ask me why, it’s just another term that I've heard Noa use.” Mentally he was making a note to ask his mentor about this stuff, he felt like tattooing also meant knowing the reason behind certain terms.
“Anyway, I’m totally not going to bore you with technical chatter this whole time,” he shifted gears once he finished up prepping Maizie’s skin for the tattoo. “Alright, so I’m going to put the transfer on now and that’s kind of the last step before I start the actual tattoo.” Sasha took a deep breath before he located the transfer on his workstation and lined it where Maizie had indicated she wanted the tattoo. “And now I'm going to ask you get up and take a look in the mirror over there to make sure I got it right where you want it,” He waved a hand towards the wardrobe mirror that was propped against the wall, while holding out a hand held mirror to her with his other hand. “This might help you see it better.”
“I don’t mind any kind of chatter. Unless it’s too distracting or something.” Maizie sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the table in order to hop down and look at the transfer as Sasha had suggested. It was tricky to angle the hand mirror just right and she had to tilt it a couple of times before the words on the back of her neck were visible in the reflective surface. The sight of her vague tattoo idea turned into something tangible made her heartbeat jump, and Maizie suddenly found herself swallowing hard, blinking against the unexpected heat of tears in her eyes. It took a second before she could put down the hand mirror to turn back to Sasha with a genuine, if somewhat shaky, smile.
“It looks perfect. I can’t even believe it.” With the first emotional hurdle successfully behind her, she came back to the table and settled into position again, careful to sweep her hair to the side. Hopefully Sasha wouldn’t mind if she chattered at least, because Maizie had lost the habit of holding her tongue a long time ago. “So which one was your first tattoo?
Standing back while Maizie gave the placement a look, Sasha tried his best not to look anxious or give off any kind of hint that this whole process was both insanely exciting and a little daunting. Dark eyes followed his friend’s movements though as she inspected the transfer and Sasha thought he noticed a brief change in her, a hiccup of emotion -- which he felt was expected considering it was her first tattoo and there was likely a meaning behind it. When she turned that smile on him though, he felt calmer or more at ease.
“If it’s got your stamp of approval we can continue,” he replied while trying to be as professional as possible (and not totally blush when she told him it was perfect.) This was the first time his work would actually be inked onto someone, which was still surreal. “And I really just put down on paper what you had described.” Sasha added with a smile of his own. Once he had her settled maybe he’d ask her more about the tattoo, Noa had told him once that people often felt more at ease if they were talking about something while the tattoo was being done. With Maizie settled back down on the table, Sasha finished the last of the prep work and explaining what he was about to do next and then he was just placing the needle to her skin when he answered Maizie, talking a little louder to accommodate for the buzzing of the machine. “The one I got in memory of my mom,” he answered pausing for a minute while he held out his arm and showed her the tattoo of a red diamond and the words “Diamonds are forever” inked below it. “I kind of always knew I’d want them, but when she passed it gave me a reason to get my first one,” Sasha waited a beat before he added. “And dad finally thought I was old enough by that point.”
Wanting to keep the conversation going, Sasha added. “I know you’re getting this one for a reason but I never asked you what that reason was?”
Maizie didn’t know what she expected getting a tattoo to feel like -- a thousand little bee stings, maybe -- but although it buzzed like the biggest hive in existence, the needle didn't really hurt. Not all the time and not much worse than one of Sven’s claws catching her skin when she played with him. It wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle, was the point, and it was kind of a relief to know she could do this. Shifting her gaze, she studied the tattoo Sasha showed her. The red diamond was really eye-catching, and she'd noticed it before without knowing what it represented.
“I like it; it's really pretty. Mine is for my dad, actually, so I'm even gladder it's you doing it.” Maizie caught her lower lip between her lip for a moment before beginning to explain. Talking about Dad was easier, now, than it used to be, but it was still kind of like navigating an obstacle course with a blindfold on -- she never knew what would make her stumble, or when it would happen.
“You know Harry Potter, right? It's a quote from the last book, when Harry’s about to do something that really frightens him. The ghosts of his parents and his loved ones are there, and when he asks if they'll stay with him, his dad says, ‘Until the very end’. So I figured it was appropriate, you know?” The emotions that had welled up in that first viewing of the transfer were still kind of lurking in the back of her mind, and not even the noise and vibration of the tattooing process could drown them out completely. Maizie forced a smile, rallied. “I mean, I'd like to think Dad is still with me, even if I'm not totally sure he'd approve of me getting a tattoo.”
Sasha had drawn his arm by in by this point and was back to working on Maizie’s tattoo while she explained the reason behind it. He gave a nod when she asked if he knew Harry Potter, and then laughed because of course she wouldn’t be able to see him move his head. “Yeah, I know Harry Potter,” he confirmed. “And I like that, I mean I like to think my mom and dad are still with me in some way,” Sasha laughed. “And who knows, maybe both our dads wouldn’t be real approving of us having tattoos.” Truthfully he had no idea if his biological father would have approved of the amount of ink adorning his body. There were a lot of things he never knew about his dad and a lot of things that would remain a mystery.
But in many ways he wasn’t the man who raised him, so while Sasha wondered what his opinion might have been, he valued Vic’s more. “Maybe our parents are hanging out wherever they are,” he continued, taking note of Maizie’s forced smile and he knew he was better equipped than some to understand the difficulty in talking about a deceased parent. Sasha could talk about his mom more easily now, but those first few months had been rough, and even now he skirted away from certain topics. “Running commentary on our lives like it’s some kind of sporting event.”
The last thing Maizie wanted to do while the needle was against her skin was laugh and make it jump, but the picture that Sasha painted of their parents made it hard to hold back. She pressed her lips together so the laugh came out more like a choked snort, but she held it together. And, as a bonus, it cured her case of the feels. “Dad would be one of those commentators that gets all caught up in the game and starts yelling on-air. He’d have to be. And I kind of like that idea. Wouldn’t be right if I wasn’t driving him crazy in the afterlife too.”
In fact, there had to be about a half dozen things she’d already done since his death that would have driven her father crazy -- starting with stealing the bottle of liquor for Liv’s 21st birthday and culminating here and now in this tattoo. She didn’t feel particularly guilty, though. Never had when it came to the places where their opinions on what was best for her had clashed. At least she and Savannah didn’t disagree on that stuff quite as often.
“You and Vic get along pretty well, though, right? I mean, he’s always been pretty cool to me, but I don’t have to live with him or anything.”
Making Maizie laugh -- or snort more accurately - brought a smile to Sasha's face. Talking about the parents they both had lost was a heavy subject, one that brought about a lot of emotions -- so he was relieved to have managed to lighten the mood. “My mom’s probably up there trying to calm your dad down and reasoning with him that you’re not doing anything truly awful,” because that was just how his mom had been, endlessly encouraging and loving. “I like to think she’s proud of me too, though I’m sure there’s some things she’s had a disapproving remark about here or there.” He could just about imagine the kind of reaction that would have come from his mom the night Vic broke things up before he could hook up with Bea. Sasha could just imagine the lecture he would have received, some of it no doubt being given in Russian.
“And yeah, Vic and I get along well,” Sasha continued, nodding despite the fact that Maizie couldn’t see him. “Great actually, I mean, except for when he’s barging into the Airstream just ‘cause I had a girl in there with me.” He grimaced at the memory. “Although, I suppose that’s what parents are supposed to do, right? And Vic’s kind of been the only dad I’ve had since mine died when I was still pretty young.” He paused for a moment to survey the work he’d done so far on the tattoo, pleased that the lines were clean and he wasn’t screwing the whole thing up. “You and Savannah, do you get along well?”
“Wellllll,” Maizie hedged, drawing out the one syllable word. “Let's just say we’re doing better.” There was, of all things, an itch in the small of her back. She couldn't reach it at the moment, of course, but it was probably in her head anyway, like a side effect of the needle buzzing against her skin. Which, if she thought about it too much, kind of made Maizie’s skin crawl. Refocusing on the conversation, she let her eyes close. There wasn't really anything to see in this position anyway.
“I was kind of a brat to her when my dad was alive, and it's been a little rocky sometimes since.” Aware of the fact that Savannah was probably in earshot, Maizie couldn't really bring up an examples like Sasha had, but they were still going through her mind. Like when Savannah first found out about her and Liv, or that awful dinner argument between Savannah and Olivia, or the thing with the whiskey (which she still believed she'd been totally within her rights to drink). “But I mean, that's just family. We’ll be there for each other for as long as we can and that's the important thing.”
Maizie swallowed, and when she spoke again her tone was deliberately lighter. “And, y’know, she's letting me get a tattoo, so that's automatic cool points. She let my girlfriend move in with us too, which is my super subtle way of circling back to the topic of this girl that Vic chased off.” Opening her eyes again, she broke into a grin. “You know Bea is, like, totally one of my besties, right?”
“Yeah, I mean I don’t know what I’d do without Vic and everyone else I consider family,” Sasha remarked while he paused in the tattooing process to survey what he had done so far. He was nearly halfway done with the piece by now and tried not to berate himself that Noa would have been further along if she were doing it. That old saying of having to walk before you could run crept into his mind, causing Sasha shove away his own impatience with the slow pace he had to take. “Guess we both got lucky in that we’ve still got people looking out for us.”
The buzzing of the tattoo iron started up again as Sasha went back to finishing the piece on Maizie’s back and for a moment the only noise heard over that was a laugh, one that was part nervous and part amused. “Real subtle, Wolfe,” he remarked, buying himself time as he mentally freaked out about just what exactly Bea had said about their encounter to Maizie -- if anything. “I didn’t know that. Is it weird I almost hooked up with a friend of yours?” Sasha paused. “And I’m also guessing it’s safe to assume she told you all about it?” This was only a little more subtle an attempt at information than Maizie’s had been just moments before.
“Not that weird,” Maizie admitted. If she could have shrugged, she would have. “I mean, Bea’s great and you’re great, so why would I think it’s weird if you’re into each other? I get why Vic went all overprotective dad and interrupted you, but I dunno. Seems like there’s enough crap in the world already, so we have to embrace the good stuff.” Okay, that totally sounded like a euphemism. And maybe it was. “Embrace it responsibly anyway.” A burst of giggles threatened again and Maizie smirked hard, reminding herself she wasn't a kid anymore, who found even alluding to sex hilarious.
“Wait, did Bea tell you she’s into me?” Sasha couldn’t stop himself from asking the question, even while he was also smirking at Maizie’s words of advice to embrace the good stuff responsibly. “If you want to talk to my dad and argue the idea of enjoying the good things in life, I’d owe you forever.” Because at this rate he really was positive that he wouldn’t be hooking up with anyone, Bea or otherwise, until he was thirty at least.
“Actually, Bea didn't say that much about what happened,” Maizie admitted. “Just that she thinks you’re cute and your dad is scary. Most of what I know I heard from Savannah, who probably heard it from Vic. I guess they compare notes on raising a teenager or whatever. That’s kind of sweet.” It was funny to think of parents gossiping the way she and her friends did, or teasing each other the way she was with Sasha now. But then, Savannah wasn’t really a whole lot older than her, when you thought about it.
“So what do you think of Bea, though? Do you wanna see her again? She doesn’t know I’m asking you this, of course,” Maizie hastened to add, “so this isn’t, like, one of those ‘get my friend to talk to a guy for me’ kind of situations. I’m just curious.”
Sasha's hopes of Maizie having the inside track on how Bea felt about him were dashed a little bit when she admitted all she’d been told was that her friend thought he was cute. Which, that was a win, right? He was less thrilled about the idea of his dad talking about his love life with Maizie’s mom, but he supposed that’s what parents did. “You think it’s sweet that our parents talk about our love lives and shit with each other?” Sasha questioned, barely managing not to pull a face. “I mean, I guess it shows they care or something. God, I don’t need everyone in Austin knowing I almost hooked up with Bea, though. That’s….embarrassing,” he paused before rushing on. “Not the part where it was with Bea, but like the part where it didn't happen. That’s the embarrassing part.”
Maizie hastened to reassure Sasha, wincing a little at his discomfort. “It’s not everyone in Austin, just me and Savannah and Liv.” (Okay, and Kitty -- but Sasha wouldn’t even know who that was, so it was probably alright not to mention her.)
“Thanks for the reassurance that not all of Austin knows,” Sasha could appreciate his friend’s effort to lessen some of his discomfort, even if he still wished that nobody knew about it. Then there was a moment of silence, the buzzing from the tattoo iron the only noise in the room. What did Sasha think of Bea? He knew a little bit about her and knew he wanted to know more. “If she’ll risk my dad breaking things up again, yeah, I’d like to see her again. I mean, we didn’t do a lot of talking at the time, but we’ve talked over text now and she seems pretty awesome,” he stopped short of rambling. “You, ah, you don’t have to keep any of this from her, by the way. That’d be a really shitty thing for me to ask you to do. Though, I am relieved you're asking out of curiosity and not because Bea doesn’t think she could ask me herself.” As he spoke, he realized he was getting towards the end of the tattoo now and feeling pretty damn proud of himself for having not screwed it up yet. “You know her better than I do, so, ah, do you think she’ll want to see me again?”
There was no hesitation in Maizie’s voice as she said, “I’m pretty sure. Maybe we should arrange for Vic to be somewhere else whenever it happens, but I don’t think Bea’s the kind of person who would be scared off by something like being interrupted by a parent.” It was awkward, but not something that couldn’t be bounced back from. Bea probably dealt with way more stressful stuff all the time now that she was studying to become a doctor, or whatever they called the post-apocalyptic version of a medical degree.
Sasha’s mouth turned up into a smile at Maizie’s words. Well he wouldn’t hold them as gospel, he knew that she knew Bea better than he did. So just the sheer idea of possibly still having a chance with her lifted his hopes some. “I think we should definitely try and make sure my dad’s busy the next time she’s here,” if there was a next time, not even that was guarantee. Nothing really was in this world anymore, but, the Dog Park always needed medical attention of some kind of another, so there was a glimmer of hope that that wasn’t the first or last time Bea would be in camp. “Maybe we could even convince Luc to drag him off to the LBJ?” The library’s head of security seemed cool enough to take part in whatever scheme he and Maizie could think up.
“Oh my god, I bet he would. I'll totally ask him if you want.” Maizie glanced as far as she could out of the corner of her eye to see what Savannah was doing, and whether she might be distracted from the conversation that was currently going on over on this side of the studio. “Savannah was kind of weird about me and Liv at first too. I think it’s hard for them to think of us as adults or whatever. They still think we don’t know anything. But now that you’re taking this step on a professional level, and you’re tattooing people for the first time … maybe that will make it easier for Vic to accept the more personal stuff too.”
As his friend spoke, Sasha found his gaze traveling over towards Savannah and Noa. Both women still deep in whatever conversation they were having. “Yeah? But she eventually like come around to accepting it, right?” He questioned, moving onto the last little bit of Maizie’s tattoo. “Maybe our growing up is scary to them? I mean we’re turning into adults in a world that’s so unlike the one they grew up in. Just doesn’t make sense, it’s totally cool if I handle firearms and learn how to shoot, or like tattoo people. But wanting to hook up with someone earns a parental freak out? Adults are weird.” This wasn’t said with even a hint of disrespect. He loved his dad and anyone who knew him knew that Sasha had the utmost respect for him. Still, that didn’t mean the eighteen year old understood Vic’s actions or reasoning sometimes.
“Yeah, she's okay with it now. I think it was the fact that Liv lives with us, and Savannah thought we were sneaking around behind her back -- which we totally weren’t.” The whole situation had been super awkward and could have gone really badly, but so far the three of them had always been capable of working through these kinds of obstacles. And they were reassuringly normal problems in a world where a lot of what they dealt with was zombie-related. “And, I mean I don't really do any of the stuff you just named, but it does seem like a weird double standard.”
“My dad probably has a right to kind of freak out, I mean I wasn't sneaking, but it wasn't exactly like he knew I was trying to hook up with Bea, either,” Sasha sighed, if he looked at things like that he could understand why his dad had come barging in on them. “Maybe guns are less scary to my dad than the idea I might get some girl pregnant?” He offered, pulling a face even as he said it. “So maybe it’s not a double standard?” Sasha didn’t honestly know if he fully understood his dad’s reasoning, maybe some day he needed to sit down and talk to him. That was the thought that slipped through his mind as the buzzing finally stopped and Sasha set aside the iron, surveying his work before announcing. “Well, I think I’m done,” he began to clean up the tattoo and when he was finished with that he added. “Do you want to take a look at it?”
“Really? Yes! I totally want to look.” Maizie sat up, the stiffness in her back and shoulders from lying turning into more of an ache, but the good kind that meant you were up and moving around again. Without the buzzing of the tattoo gun against her skin as a distraction, the back of her neck was a little sore, but she could totally live with it. Hopping down from the table, she made a beeline for the mirrors, getting everything angled up just right so she could see the brand-new, permanently-inked words.
“Oh my god, Sasha, it looks so good,” she breathed. It was actually kind of hard to look at without feeling teary from thinking about Dad and the way he'd never get to hug her and call her ‘babygirl’ again, or the fact that she was already forgetting so many little things about him. But if anyone would understand her sudden wave of emotion, it was Sasha.
Maizie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gave a shaky laugh. “Sorry. It's probably good thing I got it in a place I can't see, huh? Otherwise I'd be weeping for days about how great it is. And it's really great. Thank you so much; this means a lot to me. And having you be the one who did it --” Overcome again, she broke off with another laugh to duck her head, sniffling. “Sorry. I'm fine, I'm done. What else do you need to do?”
Standing just far enough away not to crowd Maizie, sasha was grinning from ear to ear with pride as she inspected her new tattoo. He was pleased that she was pleased with it as memorial tattoos held more meaning than just a simple run of the mill piece of artwork, so he still felt incredibly honored that she let him do this for her. “Don’t apologize,” he breathed out as he stepped in closer to her and drew her into a hug. She returned it, wrapping her arms around him tight.“I’m just glad you really like it, Maiz,” Sasha added with a faint laugh. “Because I don’t know what I’d have done if you thought it was horrible, like I’m pretty sure I’d have to turn into a hermit and think about how disappointed you were for the rest of my life.” This was meant mostly as a joke, sort of. “So yeah, totally glad the tattoo was successful.” He released Maizie from the hug at that point and moved back over to his station. “Now it’s just cleaning it up, covering it and going over the care instructions, so we’re almost done.” Sasha flashed another grin in her direction as he waited for Maizie to settle back in so he could finish up.
“I can totally handle that,” Maizie replied easily, putting the hand mirror back where she’d found it. She still felt a little raw on the inside from the emotional roller coaster ride that getting this tattoo turned out to be, but it was a good kind of feeling in some ways too. Cathartic. Mourning Dad was okay, and a part of her probably always would, on some level, but for the first time she really felt like she was starting to have a little closure about what happened. This was a good place to be.
“After all,” she added, smiling as she hopped back onto the table and got into the familiar position again, “the worst part is already over.”
While Sasha began the process of cleaning the tattoo and covering it, he had to laugh at Maizie’s remark. “It is, I mean unless you really hate that itchy feeling that happens when something is healing,” some people complained that was actually the worst part, but Sasha really felt like getting the initial tattoo was. “Because if that’s the case, you've got a fun journey ahead of you.” He added with a smirk as he placed a bandage over the tattoo.
“And we’re officially done,” Sasha declared as he set aside the medical supplies and gave Maizie some room to sit up and climb off the table. “So I guess all I have to tell you now is how to take care of it, which really it’s a no brainer. In a couple of hours you can remove the bandage and then don't re-bandage it, always wash your hands before you touch your tattoo, and always wash it with antibacterial soap and don't use anything that will exfoliate the skin. Also for the next two or three days you’ll want to put Neosporin or something similar on it, and on like the third or fourth day your tattoo will start peeling, I know, kind of gross, but do not pick at it. When that happens start putting a lotion that’s free of dyes or perfumes on it and do that for like the next couple of weeks minimum, once or twice a day.” He finished his spell, pausing for a moment before adding. “I think we have soap and lotion I can send with you.”
Eyes growing wider as Sasha talked, Maizie felt her mind reeling. She'd never been particularly good with rules and instructions and this was, like, a ton. Did they even have neosporin anymore? Was that still a thing? Someone at the LBJ was bound to know, though she wasn't sure about the idea of bugging the Head of Health for help with her tattoo care.
“Uh, can you write all that down?” she asked. “Because there's no way I'm going to remember all those things. Thank goodness Savannah is going to be doing this too, maybe I can just copy her.” The parts about itching and peeling were particularly concerning, but she'd lived through both poison ivy and sunburn as a kid. This couldn't be too much worse, right? “I think I'd better take you up on that offer for the lotion too. Pretty sure all I have is Bath & Body Works, which isn't exactly perfume free.”
Picking up the t-shirt she’d abandoned earlier, Maizie draped it over her arm rather than put it back on over her tanktop again. She didn't want to do anything to mess up the bandage. Stepping forward to give Sasha another hug, she added, “Thank you so much again. I can't wait to show this off to everyone -- you are gonna have so many more people asking you to give them ink after this. I'm so excited for you!”
Sasha had been so lost in the haze of ‘oh my god I’m actually doing this!’ That he hadn’t stopped to consider how overwhelming the after care could actually be, particularly since he had personally taken care of so many of his own tattoos by this point that it was second nature and he could almost run on auto pilot doing it. “Oh god, sorry Maiz, that was a lot to throw at you,” he apologized, a sheepish smile flickering across his features. “Yeah, I’ll totally write it all down for you.” Sasha was already reaching for a pad of paper and a pen as he said this, quickly scribbling out the instructions he had just rattled off to her.
“You’re welcome,” He replied while looping an arm around Maizie to return her hug. “Oh god, I’m not sure I’ll be in that high of demand, but thanks for the confidence boost. I’m really grateful you were my first client,” Sasha released her to quickly grab both a bottle of soap and a bottle of lotion out of a cupboard, tossing them into a plastic shopping bag along with the piece of paper with the aftercare instructions on it. “Alright, here’s everything you should need,” He said while holding out the bag to Maizie. “And you know if you need anything else I’m just a phone call or text away.” Sasha pulled her into another quick hug while he thanked her again. “Really, this was awesome, so thank you.” And with that he took a step back, allowing Maizie to move over to where Savannah and Noa sat talking while he turned his attention to cleaning up Noa’s workspace.
After all if he didn’t clean up the remnants of the things that proved he had just done his first tattoo, Sasha was positive it would also go down in the record books of being his last tattoo.