Fashion Tattoo Studio 2
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Three new clients stepped into Zoe’s studio, the bell above the door chiming as Iris, Chloe, and Barbara filed inside. Iris lingered near the entrance, her gaze drifting over the flash art lining the walls before settling on a cluster of celestial designs. Reserved but curious, she traced a finger over a sketch of phases-of-the-moon vines. Zoe’s assistant suggested weaving the moons into a delicate forearm piece, their silver-black ink catching the light like twilight—subtle enough to mirror her quiet confidence but layered with meaning. Iris nodded, her posture softening as she rolled up her sleeve. Chloe slouched into the chair next, combat boots propped on the stool. Her eyes locked onto a bold, jagged dagger design, but the assistant nudged her toward a coiled serpent hidden among thorns—edgy but purposeful, its sinuous lines a better match for the story she’d half-shared about shedding old skin. Chloe smirked, agreeing to place it along her ribcage, the sting of the needle met with a sharp, approving grin. Barbara waited last, posture flawless, her linen blouse crisp against the studio’s leather couch. She wanted something “timeless” but refused florals. The assistant pulled out a sketch of geometric lace—a collar of intricate, interlocking patterns that curved behind the ear, elegant but sharp. Barbara’s smile flickered, a rare crack in her poise, as she turned her head to bare the nape of her neck. The machine hummed, etching precision into skin, and she left with a nod that bordered on gratitude.
