“Damn, am I even going to survive this?” Samuel Reed shivered at the thought of the consequences. “Do I not want my legs anymore? My dad would kill me. Besides, I’m not the same as you.”

Eric Clark nodded. “Mm.”

“It’s not like... I have to be with guys. I love pretty girls too. I’ll just take things as they come. I just haven’t had enough fun yet—maybe one day when I’m done playing around, I’ll settle down and get married. I just hope that day comes later rather than sooner.”

Eric Clark didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet. Samuel Reed asked him what his plans were for tomorrow, and Eric Clark said he hadn’t made any.

“Then come hang out with me?” Samuel Reed asked.

“No, thanks,” Eric Clark couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Two gays out shopping? That’s a sight for sore eyes. Are we girlfriends or something?”

“Come on, who would even tell we’re both gay if we go out together? I’m super manly and you’re super handsome. Besides, it’s not like we’re shopping for clothes or getting our nails done. I’m looking for a tattoo place.”

Eric Clark raised an eyebrow. “Who’s getting a tattoo? You?”

“Yeah, me,” Samuel Reed said. “I asked around at a few places people recommended, but they’re all booked out for months. No idea why so many people are getting tattoos these days, everyone’s flocking to the same places. Any shop with a bit of a name needs an appointment way in advance, but I don’t want to book. Tomorrow, let’s just wander around and if we see a shop, we’ll go in. Good or bad, I can’t tell the difference anyway, and no one else will see it.”

Eric Clark asked, “Where are you getting it that you can’t see it and no one else can either?”

Samuel Reed kept his head down, giggling for a while before finally looking up and saying, “On my ass. I want to get a free-spirited dog, a cute dog head. When I hook up, if someone wants to top me, I’ll just show them a [doge], throw some shade and kill the mood.”

“...” Eric Clark was left speechless, sometimes he really couldn’t understand how Samuel Reed’s mind worked. There was a reason for his name—he was originally called Simon Reed, but he had so many wild ideas that he changed it himself.

“I think it’s kind of wicked too, but it’s fun, right?” Samuel Reed finished eating and stood up. “If you won’t come with me, I’ll just go by myself, but I’m afraid my ass will hurt after the tattoo and I’ll have to walk funny.”

Eric Clark finished the last sip of his soy milk, gathered up the packaging and paper bags from the table, pulled out a napkin to wipe his mouth, and said, “Tattoo artist, right? I know one.”

Samuel Reed was a bit surprised. “When did you meet one? How come I never heard about it?”

Eric Clark looked at him and smiled. “Two days ago. A fling.”

“I... what?” Samuel Reed blinked.

Eric Clark blinked back at him and said, “We had a drink together.”

“Grandpa Clark, you’ve finally let loose? No more playing monk at that crappy school? Had a drink... and then hooked up?” Samuel Reed still couldn’t quite process it. Hearing this from Eric Clark was really something else. “What kind of person?”

Eric Clark remembered again how the guy said his name was Adam Wright, ‘sin’ as in ‘guilt’. After saying that, he’d taken the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it away—the butt even bounced once on the ground.

Eric Clark raised his eyebrows, gave a faint smile, and said, “Super cool... I liked his vibe.”

Chapter 5

Actually, when Eric Clark blurted it out, it was a bit impulsive. He was still caught up in the novelty—he could still picture the guy sitting across from him that night at the bar. And just as Samuel Reed brought up tattoos, he mentioned it without thinking.

But when it came time to actually reach out, he got a little nervous. After all, he barely knew the guy—they’d only sat across from each other for a few hours. For all he knew, the guy had already forgotten him.

“Look at you, Grandpa Clark, all grown up.” Samuel Reed couldn’t sit still, urging Eric Clark to call and make an appointment.

Eric Clark pulled out a business card from his leather jacket pocket. Samuel Reed saw it and suddenly laughed. “I’ve already asked about this place! It was the first one I checked out. Little Owen got his tattoo there. I thought it was so cool, I wanted to get one too.”

Eric Clark lifted his eyelids and glanced at him. “He got his on his ass too?”

“No, hell no, how would I even know if he did?” Samuel Reed pulled aside his collar and pointed. “He got it here, on his collarbone.”

“What did they say when you asked?” Eric Clark asked.

Samuel Reed snorted. “They’re booked the farthest out. Told me to wait three months. I just want a palm-sized tattoo and they want me to wait three months? Are you kidding me?”

Eric Clark ignored him, because the call was already ringing—“beep, beep.”

After a while, someone picked up and asked, “Who is this?”

Eric Clark didn’t get to use the opening line he’d prepared, because the voice sounded way too young. It wasn’t the voice he’d heard that night. The person on the other end, hearing no response, got impatient and asked again, “Who is it?”

“Isn’t this Adam Wright’s number?” Eric Clark checked the screen and silently compared it to the number on the business card. It was definitely right.

The other person said, “Yeah, you looking for him? He’s working right now. If you need something, tell me and I’ll pass it on.”

Now Eric Clark really felt awkward. If it was just him and Adam Wright, a direct call would be fine, but having to go through someone else felt weird. He was about to say never mind, but the person hurried him, “Come on, man, spit it out, I’m busy too. You want a tattoo or is it personal? If it’s a tattoo, we...”