#bali tattoo prices

[charlierosetattoobaliid]

Bali Tattoo Prices

Curious about tattoo prices in Bali? Prices vary based on design complexity, size, and artist experience. Bali offers a range of options to suit different budgets while maintaining high quality. Get a memorable tattoo experience without compromising on artistry or hygiene.

[myangelan]

Key Factors That Influence Tattoo Prices in Bali

Tattoo enthusiasts often find Bali, Indonesia, an attractive destination for getting inked due to its rich artistic heritage and the plethora of talented tattoo artists. The price of getting a tattoo in Bali is influenced by various factors, which can differ from what one might expect in other parts of the world.

Factors Affecting Tattoo Prices in Bali

Artist's Expertise and Reputation: A tattoo artist's reputation and skill level are the primary factors affecting tattoo prices in Bali. Renowned artists tend to charge more for their work, especially those who have gained international fame or have a substantial local following.

Design Complexity and Size: The complexity of the tattoo design is a significant factor. A simple, small design will cost less than a large, intricate piece. Detailed designs that require more time and skill are priced higher.

Color vs. Black and Grey: The choice between color and black and grey can also impact the cost. Color tattoos often require more time and resources, making them more expensive than black and grey tattoos.

Location of the Studio: The location of the tattoo studio in Bali can affect prices. Studios in tourist-heavy areas like Seminyak, Kuta, or Ubud might charge more due to higher rent and operational costs compared to studios in less tourist-centric locations.

Custom Work vs. Standard Designs: Custom designs, which are unique and created specifically for the client, are usually more expensive than standard designs or flash art due to the additional time spent in design and planning.

Time Taken: Some artists charge by the hour, so the time it takes to complete the tattoo is a direct factor in its cost. Larger or more complex tattoos that require multiple sessions will be more expensive.

Hygiene and Safety Standards: High-quality studios that maintain top-notch hygiene and safety standards may charge more. This includes the use of new needles, high-quality inks, and sterilized equipment.

Cultural Significance: In Bali, certain designs, especially those with cultural or religious significance, may be priced differently. This is often a reflection of the respect and importance given to these symbols in Balinese culture.

Additional Considerations

Tipping: While not mandatory, tipping the artist is a common practice, especially if you're satisfied with the work.

Pre-booking vs. Walk-ins: Pre-booking might be more expensive, but it ensures you get a slot with your preferred artist.

Aftercare Products: The cost for aftercare products, essential for maintaining the quality of the tattoo, might be an additional expense.

Conclusion

Understanding the factors that influence tattoo pricing in Bali is crucial for anyone looking to get inked on the island. The cost reflects not just the physical ink and time but the artistry, experience, and cultural significance behind each piece. When choosing a tattoo artist and design in Bali, it's important to consider these factors to ensure you get a piece that is not only beautiful but also holds value for the money spent.

[belvatoplaces]

Your Ultimate Guide to Choosing a Tattoo Artist in Canggu

Canggu, Bali, is a hot spot not only for its stunning beaches and vibrant nightlife but also for its dynamic tattoo culture. Whether it's your first time getting inked or you're adding to your collection, picking the right tattoo artist is essential. This guide will help you navigate the process, emphasizing critical factors like artistic style, hygiene standards, and building a rapport with your artist.

Also, reflect on the benefits and drawbacks of getting a tattoo to ensure it enhances your overall journey.

Identifying Your Preferred Tattoo Style

Before you start looking for a tattoo artist, it's crucial to know what style of tattoo you want. Tattoo artists often specialize in styles such as traditional, realism, watercolor, Japanese, geometric, or minimalist. Use platforms like Instagram and Pinterest to explore different styles and gather inspiration. Having a clear vision of your desired style will help you find an artist who excels in that specific genre.

Conducting Thorough Research

Canggu has a plethora of skilled tattoo artists and studios. Start your search online by reading reviews and examining portfolios. Visit the websites and social media pages of potential artists to view their work. Look for consistency in quality and a style that matches your vision. Read reviews on platforms like Google, Yelp, and social media, paying attention to feedback about the artist’s professionalism, cleanliness, and overall client experience. Personal recommendations from locals, expatriates, or fellow travelers can also offer valuable insights.

Ensuring High Hygiene and Safety Standards

Hygiene is paramount when getting a tattoo. Make sure the studio and artist adhere to strict hygiene protocols to prevent infections and ensure a safe experience. The studio should be clean and well-organized, with sanitized surfaces and a sterile environment. Ensure the artist uses disposable needles and tubes, opening them in front of you. The artist should wear gloves at all times and use sterilized equipment. Look for an autoclave (a device used to sterilize equipment) in the studio. Additionally, check that the artist and studio have the necessary licenses and certifications, which are usually displayed in the studio.

Establishing a Good Relationship with Your Artist

A positive relationship with your tattoo artist can greatly enhance your experience. Schedule a consultation to discuss your ideas and expectations. A good artist will listen to your vision and offer professional advice. Clear communication is key, ensuring the artist understands your design, placement, and any concerns you might have. You should feel comfortable and at ease with your artist; a friendly and approachable demeanor is a good sign. The artist should also be transparent about the process, including aftercare instructions, pricing, and potential risks.

Assessing Experience and Creativity

Experience and creativity are important qualities in a tattoo artist. While there are talented newcomers, experienced artists often have refined their skills and techniques over time. A great artist will offer creative suggestions to enhance your design while respecting your vision. Look for artists who demonstrate versatility and can adapt to different styles and techniques, as they are often more skilled and innovative.

Conclusion

Choosing the right tattoo artist in Canggu requires careful consideration of artistic style, hygiene standards, and the artist-client relationship. By thoroughly researching and evaluating your options, you can find an artist who not only meets your expectations but also ensures a safe and enjoyable tattooing experience. Remember, a tattoo is a lifelong commitment, so take your time to make an informed decision and ensure your next ink adventure in Canggu is memorable.

[travelgals]

Is Henna Tattoo Dangerous? – Considering Alternatives and Tips on Choosing a Tattoo Studio in Bali

Henna tattoos, while popular for their temporary nature and intricate designs, have raised concerns primarily due to the risks associated with 'black henna.' For those seeking a more permanent and safe body art option, visiting a trusted tattoo studio in Bali might be a preferable alternative.

Potential Risks of Henna Tattoos

Pure, natural henna has a long history of safe use. However, it's crucial to be aware of what is in the henna being used. Pure henna is typically safe for most people, though some may have a mild allergic reaction.

The primary concern with henna tattoos arises with the use of so-called 'black henna.' This is not pure henna and often contains a chemical called paraphenylenediamine (PPD), which is found in hair dyes. PPD can cause severe allergic reactions in some individuals, including redness, blisters, oozing lesions, intense itching, and permanent scarring. It's important to note that there is no such thing as natural black henna.

Repeated exposure to PPD can increase the likelihood of developing a severe allergic reaction. This means that even if someone has used black henna in the past without issues, they can still develop a reaction with subsequent use.

Considering Permanent Tattoos in Bali

Opting for a permanent tattoo from a reputable studio in Bali can be a safer and more satisfying option for body art enthusiasts. Unlike henna, which can sometimes contain harmful additives like PPD, professional tattoo studios use regulated inks and maintain high standards of hygiene.

Tips on Choosing the Right Tattoo Studio in Bali

Research the Studio

Check Reviews and Testimonials: Look for online reviews and testimonials from previous clients. Social media platforms and travel forums can provide insights into a studio's reputation.

View the Artist’s Portfolio: Examine the work of the tattoo artists in the studio. Look for a style that resonates with your desired design.

Assess Hygiene and Safety Standards

Cleanliness: A reputable studio will maintain high standards of cleanliness. Look for clean working areas and sterilized equipment.

Use of Equipment: Ensure that the studio uses single-use needles and sterilized equipment. This reduces the risk of infections and blood-borne diseases.

Professionalism and Licensing

Certification and Licensing: Check if the studio and its artists are properly licensed and certified. This indicates adherence to industry standards and local regulations.

Consultation Process: A professional studio will offer a consultation to discuss your design, placement, and any concerns you might have.

Artist Engagement

Artist’s Experience and Specialization: Choose an artist who specializes in the style of tattoo you want. Experience matters in ensuring quality and precision.

Comfort Level: It's important to feel comfortable with the artist. A good artist will be willing to answer your questions and address your concerns.

Aftercare Advice

Aftercare Information: A responsible studio will provide detailed aftercare instructions to ensure proper healing and maintenance of your tattoo.

Cost and Transparency

Clear Pricing: Look for a studio that is upfront about its pricing. Quality tattoos come at a price, and extremely low prices can be a red flag.

Location and Accessibility

Ease of Access: Choose a studio that is easily accessible and located in a safe area. This is especially important for tourists who might not be familiar with Bali.

[quinnlarrabee]

What is your Fall Identity? Choose one of these 5

There is a two-week period in Fall when it is neither appropriate to ask someone where they summered nor ask where they will winter. This creates an identity crisis for nomadic Millennials and Gen Zers as well as stunted Gen Xers, whose personalities are based entirely on their airline status, ephemeral residency, and bewilderingly itinerant Instagram stories. You are where you were or where you will be, so when someone asks where you summered, you are the fascinating, intrepid traveler who found that perfect Spritz and cacio e pepe in that nameless restaurant owned by an older couple, who now consider you their child, in that tiny seaside town in Calabria known to only you and the thousand or so Italians who live there. Come Oct 1st, everyone will begin asking where you will winter (when it is unfashionable to be in any city with an airport that does not have a fireplace, an outdoor bar, or unusually friendly TSA agents), and then you will become either the Rugged-chic Mountain Person, who will definitely break your personal record of 60 ski days, or The American in CDMX / Lisbon / Bali, who encourages everyone to come visit because your place there is sooooo much bigger than anything we have in the city. But who are you between September 15th and October 1st, when talk of Summer is cringe and discussing Winter plans is also cringe? You will know exactly who you are after reading about these five Fall identities.  

Fall Identity #1: Conference Person

These two weeks in Fall are a time when people briefly tire of leisure and return to work for a bit to pepper their personality with a dash of purpose. Being an Industrious Business Person is a very attractive identity during these two weeks, and to help become this Industrious Business Person, other Industrious Business Persons create conferences for you to attend. There are many different kinds of conferences that you can pay a great deal to stand in the lobby looking hopeful and embarrassed with a lanyard around your neck, and you can pay an even greater deal to have a speaking role, which gets you a special lanyard that provides access to the echo chamber that is the VIP room. Speaking roles at conferences are priced high because there is no dating app profile photo more coveted than the one captioned with, “thank you for coming to my TED talk.” The conferences that confer the highest amount of status are always to do with money, which can be real money or fantasy money such as crypto or NFTs. A conversation you might have about conferences will go something like this:

Person: “What can you tell me that will help me assess you during these frightening two weeks when discussing seasonal travel is cringe?”

You: “I attended a venture capital conference.”

Person: “Ah, so you went to a very expensive private school that had a gentle academic curriculum, got into a very expensive mid-tier university as a legacy, worked for two years at the bank that your great uncle founded, got into an excellent business school thanks to a questionable relationship with a very old white person, and live in an apartment that your parents purchased for you. May I see the photos of you at this conference, which I have already seen and dutifully liked on social media?”

You: “Here is a photo of me and a very old white person, who is a legend in venture capital. He is my mentor and was instrumental in securing my admission to Stanford Business School, because his name is on several buildings as well as a small tattoo on my lower back.”

Person: “He looks very old and very wealthy indeed.”

You: “And here is a photo of me speaking at the conference.”

Person: “You look like you will one day be very old and very wealthy, too.”

You: “And here is a photo of me and the founder of one of my portfolio companies.”

Person: “I see that you invest in people who do not look like you. This is an admirable trait, and my esteem for you has risen.”

You: “I am not the typical VC bro who perpetuates the patriarchy by investing only in companies founded by two former finance bros who wish to become tech bros and have a large exit which will enable them to purchase sparkle ponies at Burning Man.”

And so it goes, this conversation about you and your venture capital conference. You can have similar conversations about cannabis conferences, health and wellness conferences, and any conference to do with sex, relationships and intentional or ceremonial anything. 

Fall Identity #2: Art Person

At any given moment in September, there are 4,239 art fairs happening in Los Angeles or New York City. Attending even one of them is sufficient to establish your personality as an Art Person. Because people attend art fairs to be photographed, the lighting at these events is always excellent. A great example of an art fair that will provide a very credible Art Person identity is the Armory Show at the Javits Center, which has a very large VIP room. A conversation you might have about art fairs will go something like this:

Person: “What can you tell me that will help me assess you during these frightening two weeks when discussing seasonal travel is cringe?”

You: “I attended the Armory Show.”

Person: “Ah, so you are the only child of very wealthy parents in Los Angeles who were both big names in the movie world, but their talents skipped a generation and left you hunting for a way to be considered a Creative Person that did not require actual creative output, so as a younger person you dressed goth and acted perpetually bored. You went to a New England liberal arts school that was even smaller than your high school and discovered talking about art, which, coupled with your almost famous last name, led to a position at an art gallery in Chelsea that set you up to be an art columnist for a publication with a circulation even smaller than the population of your alma mater. You are dating a Finance Person, who underwrites your Summer travels in Europe and Winter travels in Aspen and the Caribbean despite the fact that all of these travels are supposedly to see your clients.”

You: “Would you like to be my client? I can tell you what art to buy so that you can talk about art at dinner parties.”

Person: “Yes, I would like to be your client. Please now show me photos of art that you could have sold me last week that you claim is now worth five-times what it sold for at the Armory Show.”   

And so it goes, this conversation about you and your art fair. You can have similar conversations about going to Dia Beacon or Storm King, but these day trips do not confer an actual Fall Identity as an Art Person. 

Fall Identity #3: Fashion Person

Fashion Week was invented for people who do not wish to work at any time other than September and October and want their work to be sort of like going shopping, only for things that can be purchased exclusively in large quantities and with someone else’s money. Like a really judgmental traveling rave, Fashion Week begins September 3 in NYC, moves to Milan in late September and peaks in Paris in early October. People who live in Los Angeles believe that there is a Fashion Week in Los Angeles, but no one else in the world agrees because of how people dress in Los Angeles. Fashion Week provides a credible identity for anyone who doesn’t like talking about money stuff but comes from so, so much of it. A conversation you might have about Fashion Week will go something like this: 

Person: “What can you tell me that will help me assess you during these frightening two weeks when discussing seasonal travel is cringe?”

You: “I attended Fashion Week.”

Person: “Ah, so you drew pictures of orchids during math class in 2nd grade, your grandfather started a very large company in a very small state, and your bangs have weathered the long stretches of time when bangs were not fashionable, because Anna Wintour is your spirit animal.”

You: “I don’t think that shade of green is quite right for you. I saw a piece last week that you would love, and I could probably pre-order it for you when I place my own personal order directly with the designer.”

Person: “Ah, so you sit next to your NBA boyfriend in the front row at fashion shows wearing The Row and a facial expression more befitting a neurosurgeon in the OR than someone watching animated mannequins walk in shiny, asymmetrical tablecloths, and you applaud soundlessly whether you love or hate the line. May I see photos of you and your extremely tall boyfriend that you have saved directly from BFA so that they still have the BFA watermark?” 

And so it goes, this conversation about you and your Fashion Week highlights. This conversation is structurally similar to the conversation that Big Football Fans have in November when everyone else is packing for Aspen. 

Fall Identity #4: Dinner Party Person

People host dinner parties to repay the social debt they incurred when they were hosted at dinner parties hosted by the people they invited, who hosted the dinner party to repay the social debt incurred when they were hosted by the people they invited, and so on. Dinner Party people have the most agreeable Fall personality, because they only talk with people who are on their Dinner Party circuit, and conversations are exclusively about inviting and being invited to Dinner Parties. A conversation you might have about Dinner Parties will go something like this: 

Person: “What can you tell me that will help me assess you during these frightening two weeks when discussing seasonal travel is cringe?”

You: “Your Dinner Party was delightful. Thank you so much for having me.”

Person: “You were such a delightful guest at my Dinner Party. Thank you so much for your hand-written thank-you note that, if we had a refrigerator that was not paneled in a very rare blond-colored Danish teak, would be on our refrigerator next to other hand-written thank-you notes that we received from our other guests with whom we attended Yale, Williams College or Amherst. Where did you get that wonderful textured ecru stationery with your initials printed in navy blue on the cover?”

You: “Ah, I love that stationery. I had it printed by a very old person in Calabria, who also owns a restaurant where I had the most amazing cacio e pepe this past summ–”

WARNING! Dinner Party conversations can easily derail into conversations about where you summered, because it is extremely likely that some component of your Dinner Party - the wine, the cured meat, the olives, the custom stationery you use for hand-written thank-you notes - will have come from your Summer in Italy. The best way to avoid falling into the unfashionable trap of talking of your Summer is to talk of the next Dinner Party. 

You: “ANYwho, I would love to invite you to my Dinner Party on Thursday, since hosting Dinner Parties on weekend nights is for people who live in Westchester, Connecticut or New Jersey.”

Person: “I am so looking forward to attending your Dinner Party on Thursday, since I leave on Friday for Aspe–”

WARNING! Dinner Party conversations can easily derail into conversations about where you will Winter, because it is extremely likely that everyone on your Dinner Party circuit will have a very short window during which to host or attend Dinner Parties due to their imminent departure for Aspen. The best way to avoid falling into the unfashionable trap of talking of your Winter plans is to keep conversation outside of Dinner Parties limited to Dinner Party gratitude and logistics and to keep conversation within Dinner Parties limited to conferences, art fairs, and Fashion Week. 

Fall Identity #5: Apple Picking Person

People who live in New York City or the half of California that creates tax revenue for the state and hostile political debate for the rest of the country can base their Fall identity on Apple Picking. Apple Picking is when you rent an entry-level BMW SUV for $200 an hour and drive anywhere from 90 minutes to 2 and a half hours north to take photos in an apple orchard that was founded by city people who wanted to take advantage of people who go Apple Picking. A by-product of this particular Fall identity is a very impractical volume of apples, which will sit on your dining room table as a centerpiece for your next Dinner Party and then be composted when unsightly concave brown blemishes appear. A conversation you might have about Apple Picking will go something like this: 

Person: “What can you tell me that will help me assess you during these frightening two weeks when discussing seasonal travel is cringe?”

You: “I am going Apple Picking this weekend!”

Person: “Ah, so you have a strong aversion to camping but you have an entire wardrobe from Patagonia and highly technical hiking boots for this one day when you performatively pick perfectly good food, destined for compost heaps, from trees that exist solely for urban young people who need to populate their wedding website with couple content or want new dating app photos.”

You: “Yes indeed, and in fact I met the person I’m not exclusively sleeping with on a dating app filled with my photos from Apple Picking last Fall.”

Person: “Nothing says I’m DTF like a good Apple Picking photo.”

[laughter]

Person: “Which apple orchard have you selected for your pre-engagement website photoshoot or, if your relationship is deteriorating, for that one photo on your Raya profile that’s meant to make you seem relatable and wholesome despite the volume of photos of you mostly naked on large boats holding one or more cocktails?”

You: “We selected the one that also sells apple cider donuts, which we will buy and not eat, and extremely expensive apple cider, which we will buy and never drink, because people who drink apple cider are entirely unfuckable. This orchard also had the highest number of reviews from people who appear to be wearing Patagonia vests with hedge fund logos in their Google maps profile photo.”

Person: “Ah yes, I have picked apples at this same orchard, they will make an excellent centerpiece at your next Dinner Party before you compost them at the farmers market.” 

And so it goes, this conversation about you and your Apple Picking persona. If you do not plan on wintering someplace, you can extend this Fall identity well into late October, at which point you can base your identity on holiday parties and either how much you love or dislike your family.  

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In this day and age of social media based identities, you can change who are in approximately 8 consecutive stories and a single grid post. So if you try on one of these Fall identities and it doesn’t quite fit, simply archive the grid post and go get some new content that complies with the guidelines in this post. Take care not to be more than 3 of these Fall identities in the same two weeks, because your followers will become confused and mute you, at which point you will cease to exist until you make new friends at a conference, an art fair, Fashion Week, a dinner party, or apple picking.

Share this post with someone who needs a new personality.

[charlierosetattoobali]

Bali tattoo prices

Our studio was created entirely with our vision of ethics and humanity. We wanted to create something that brought people together. We didn’t want to be just another tattoo studio. We wanted to become a home that encapsulated our adage of LOVE + TRUTH + FAMILY.

[baliportalnews]

Industri Tato Peluang Bisnis Baru Ekonomi Kreatif, Marmar Herayukti: Tak ada Istilah 'Mahal' untuk Sebuah Karya Seni

BALIPORTALNEWS.COM, DENPASAR - Sudah tidak dapat dipungkiri lagi perkembangan dunia seni merajah tubuh atau yang biasa disebut tato, menjadi salah satu peluang baru yang menjanjikan bagi industri ekonomi kreatif Indonesia. Bali, sebagai pusat destinasi pariwisata Indonesia yang sangat erat dengan industri kreatifnya, merupakan wilayah yang paling memberikan pengaruh terhadap kemajuan dunia seni tato sebagai salah satu sumber di sektor ekenomi kreatif. Bukan hal yang tabu, sejak dulu masyarakat Bali memaknai tato sebagai sebuah karya seni lukis yang menjadi tradisi dengan filosofi nilai-nilai budaya serta kearifan lokalnya. Tak heran, hal tersebut membuat nilai jual tato menjadi cukup tinggi, dan tak sedikit pula Seniman Tato (Tattoo Artist, red) terkenal dunia berasal dari Bali, sehingga membuat perkembangan industrinya sangat masif dan menjadi peluang bisnis yang cukup menjanjikan. Salah satu seniman tato yang terkenal di Bali, Marmar Herayukti (@marmarherrz) saat ditemui langsung oleh Jurnalis Baliportalnews.com, di studionya Sangmong Tattoo Merch, Denpasar, pada Selasa (4/4/2023) mengatakan, meski bisnis ini sempat mengalami mati suri akibat Pandemi Covid-19 beberapa waktu yang lalu, saat ini industri tato di Bali perlahan mulai bangkit kembali. Dampak dibukanya kembali keran pariwisata internasional ke Bali, membuat peminat seni tato yang datang dari luar negeri mengalami peningkatan signifikan, bahkan dikatakannya sampai ada yang rela mengantri selama 6 bulan hanya untuk ditato olehnya langsung. "Astungkara, puji syukur, bisnis mulai berjalan. Mungkin banyak yang menilai ini bidang baru di industri kreatif dalam negeri. Bagi kami, tato bukan hal baru, tetapi kehidupan dengan perjalanannya hingga saat ini," ucapnya didampingi sang manajer, Joka Andika. Saat disinggung mengenai berapa omset dari usaha studio tatonya, Marmar menekankan bahwa seniman tato tidak mematok harga dari modal materi yang telah dikeluarkan seperti jarum, tinta, mesin-mesin dan sebagainya. Tetapi lebih ke nilai seni, menurutnya tidak ada istilah "mahal" di kamus para pecinta seni tato. "Perjalanan seorang seniman tato itu tidak sebegitunya yang orang lain pikirkan. Masing-masing seniman memiliki proses dan nilai filosofi terhadap setiap karya yang dihasilkan. Jadi jangan berpikir tentang price (harga, red), lihat dari sudut pandang lain dari segi seninya itu sendiri, bagaimana keindahan karya yang dibuat akan kamu bawa seumur hidup," jelas Marmar. Dari adanya penjelasan Marmar tersebut, dapat dikatakan persaingan bisnis tato di Bali saat ini masih cukup longgar. Maklum saja, dibutuhkan ketrampilan dan peralatan khusus untuk membuka usaha studio tato. Namun, dengan adanya revolusi industri 4.0 semakin memudahkan para seniman tato untuk mempromosikan hasil karyanya, dengan aktif melakukan digital marketing melalui media sosial yang mengandalkan rekomendasi dari para pelanggan sebelumnya untuk mendapatkan pelanggan baru, yang menjadi peluang bisnis menjanjikan di sektor ekonomi kreatif. (aar/bpn) Read the full article

[lovefortattoo]

How Can One Benefit From Having Tattoos?

It's quite surprising that after being accepted by nearly the whole lot of the world population, a small community still considers tattooed people taboo. If you prioritize over having a tattoo on your body, you may be overwhelmed by the innumerable life and health benefits of getting tattoos. That's why tattoo studios are regulated under the strict vigilance of health departments to maintain the safety of each client.

Through this post, you will get to know about a list of reaping benefits of drawing tattoos.

Boost up the immunity system

If you have prepared your mind for inking tattoos from the best tattoo parlour in Bali, you have made the best decision so far. Through recent studies, it is made clear that having tattoos induces the immune system's response and helps to heal faster. The moment your body detects entering foreign material, it directs antibodies to fight them back. Hence, the greater number of inking on the body positively enhances the immunity power.

Help in establishing self-esteem

When you make it possible to get a unique body feature on your body, you are supposed to gain that extra confidence just like after trying a new haircut. Thus, wearing tattoos acts like boosting agents on the human body and mind. From studies, it is seen that after getting tattoos level of confidence raises more in women than men.

Control pressure

Everybody knows the negative impact of ever-growing stress in human life. It is scientifically proved that after going through a painful tattooing procedure, stress considerably decreases. Thus, tattoos indirectly aid in maintaining good health and prevent serious ailments like headaches, bad memory, high blood pressure, and weight gain.

Beneficial for muscle repair

Individuals who strictly follow fitness regimens, like bodybuilders or trainers, must accelerate their bodies regularly. To attain that level of body ability, they have to minimize cortisone levels to respond to the changes faster than others. That's why wearing tattoos from the Bali tattoo studio is great for developing muscle mass, regenerating the body rapidly after physical activities, and many other reasons.

Help you in getting jobs

Till now, many people get skeptical about job security if got tattooed. Some current studies show that some expressive industries like clothing, advertising, and the fashion world tend to hire young and energetic employees with visible artwork on their bodies. There are some evident cases where people got employment just because of portraying their body art, which is completely compatible with that workplace.

Make vaccination successful

A vaccine is something that completely depends on its success rate. The efficient delivery with descends cost matters a lot in improving the efficiency of the vaccination. Recent research shows that inserting vaccines via tattooing procedure lessens the expenditure and enhances the efficacy of vaccines in treating a lot of chronic diseases.

Conclusively tattoo is considered an amazing peaceful art that will accompany you for a lifetime. There are multiple good reasons for people's craze over-investing in tattoo shop startup costs that can’t be ignored. Doing this master artwork from your favorite artist will help you be a new person with ultimate satisfaction.

[celebrityinktattoobali-blog]

Celebrity Ink™ Tattoo Studio is a popular tattoo studio in Kuta that offers both bamboo and machine tattoo designs to clients. If you want to get inked, visit this Kuta ink Studio. Explore more at celebrityinktattoobali.com

[luckyarcadedelusion]

Skin care treatments can be quite expensive and some may even seem ineffective. However, with the right treatment, you can achieve clear and healthy skin for a fraction of the price.

Laser hair removal has become a popular choice for people looking to remove unwanted hair. The cost of laser treatments is determined by factors like the size of the area being treated, number of treatments, type of laser used and your geographic location.

Select to purchase a single treatment (single) or pay for 4 treatments at once ( x 4 ) to receive 25% OFF! AREA / CM

2x 2       single treat= 900k OR x 4 treat= 2.7mil   5x 5       single treat= 1.2mil OR x 4 treat= 3.6mil   5 x 10    single treat= 1.5mil OR x 4 treat= 4.5mil   10 x 15   single treat= 2.5mil OR x 4 treat= 7.5mil   20 x 20  single treat= 3mil OR x 4 treat= 9mil   Microneedling and Numbing Agent available at additional cost.

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 10: The Price of War

Chapter summary: The events of Highway of Death told from Alex's perspective. Alexis' real name is finally uncovered, and one of her captors' identity is also revealed. (3327 words)

Warnings: Hadir's betrayal, character death, flashbacks of almost death.

   "Come on, stay with me!" an unfamiliar voice bounced around her head.

Was Alexis dreaming again?

Alexis was definitely dreaming again. Which was how she knew this was reality. Because she knew when she balanced over the thin line between life and death, she would dream. Sometimes she dreamt of hungover mornings and coffee runs with Maddox and the crew, inhumane circuit laps with Mactavish and Price, or the countless times Alex talked her ears off with the desire for another tattoo.

The pain that ached all over her body, accompanied by the abnormal brush of coldness told her it was time. Time to meet your maker.

She heard this joke once, and this sure as hell was the punchline.

"...keep squeezing... hand–"

Hadir? Was... was she really dreaming? This couldn't be real.

Worse were the dreams conjured by fear. The ones that took her right back to St.Petersburg to stare down the shimmering flames. The feeling of raw flesh after endless interrogations. And the reminder of wearing her blood like a second skin. It was she never left that tiny jail cell.

Alexis remembered the crackling of the flames. It was all that filled her ears. Her captors were missing. She was in the middle of nowhere.

The fire blazed a slow path straight for her like she was the final goal to reach. It tore down wooden crates, engulfed the flimsy curtains and went straight for her. Like the fire had a mind of its own and knew it wanted her.

This was it, the end of her legacy. Her stories were etched in flesh, and her book would be the grey stone in Arlington.

The salty tears streaming down her bruised eyes should have hurt, but didn't. The roaring fire snuffed out most of the oxygen and thinned the air. Her head was growing heavier by the seconds, eventually resting it against the grimy walls.

There are worse ways to go, she tried convincing herself.

When she started to drift away, she summoned enough energy to raise a fingertip over the wall—finding her name carved into the stones. Her real name.

Maybe, hopefully, somebody would remember her.

Her dreams manifested into her sleep over time. When she dreamt of St.Petersburg, she'd wake up with her mouth gaped wipe, like she paused mid-scream. Her fingers would tremble and she'd force herself to give in to her shaking legs and remain seated. She'd whisper to herself that it was only a dream. It'll stop.

Until it didn't.

Today, with her back on the ground, eyes rolled back, Alexis dreamt again.

The worst wasn't knowing she was going to die—that was the price of war. She had long made peace with the Grim Reaper. It was knowing she finally had something to live for.

Maybe this time her dream wouldn't stop.

━━━━━━

FIVE HOURS EARLIER:

29 October 2019, 0730 "Alex" CIA with Urzik militia Darus, Urzikstan

Alex hopped off the truck, inwardly expressing gratitude that after hours, they'd finally arrived at their destination. Though the aura of a village filled with rubble and dust in its silence put him off.

Ribbons of the early sun had already splashed across cerulean blue canvas. Behind him, Alexis blew a low whistle. He turned around to discover her standing in the middle of the elevated road—looking heavenward.

"What a view. Exactly the one I pictured–" Alexis marvelled.

Alia stopped her, "You picture your death?"

"Of course. You'd be surprised how disappointing death can be."

Alex kept a blank face despite feeling his heart drop. Apparently his cold shoulder treatment was starting to draw attention—evident when Farah arched an inquisitive brow beside him.

He returned with a shrug, still nursing his anger. He was pissed to be kept in the dark about Alexis' mysterious call. Her standoffish behaviour was from an all too familiar playbook that Alexis always operated out of—the masterful art of dodging.

It was exactly what happened after St.Petersburg. Which was why Alex had to intervene before it took a turn for the worse.

"You're out of it. Anything I should know?"

"What should you know?"

Answer a question with a question.

"If you want to lie to my face, go ahead. But I won't stand here and pretend to believe you."

"For CIA, you have no idea how to deal with women." Farah nudged him up the flight of stairs.

Only then did Alex realised he was spacing out. Although that couldn't stop him from thinking about how the early sun practically bathed Alexis with a halo. "Or... I know exactly what I'm doing," he smirked, climbing two steps at a time.

Farah smacked his arm, "Ah, don't play the game, play the man. I believe that's what you Americans call it." In combat, Farah was all expressionless and cold, but when the commander was out of the field, sometimes she allowed a certain amount of lightness to grace her smiles. They bumped fists with a knowing grin.

"Zip it," behind them, Alexis knocked Alia's head loudly, "Don't even think about dying."

"They'll have their hands full with her up there," Farah mused.

He heard Alia's terrible attempt at whispering—asking Alexis what he pictured for his deathbed. The cunning young lady certainly deserved an ovation. In more ways than one, Alia really was the splitting image of a young Alexis. Another loud whisper came from the young girl. "What do you mean he's not angry! You must be blind."

Alex recalled that one particular vacation in Bali that birthed this conversation. Just the two of them laying on the beach, free of woes and war. Three years felt like a lifetime ago.

"Throw me out of a helicopter, shoot me out a canon. I want my corpse to rain from the sky."

"Go out with a bang?" Alexis sipped on her frozen margarita, laying on a beach chair unbothered by the world. "That is very you."

Surely that sounded like an exaggeration. But if Alex had it his way, he would. Unfortunately, there was already a plot in Arlington reserved for him.

"Something like a sky burial," Alexis answered for him. Flashes of her chocolate hair loose on her shoulders and sunburnt cheeks left his mind. Alex felt her eyes burn into his back. "He's... weird."

"I heard that."

Several wobbly ledges later, they reached the vantage point that overlooked the highway, Hadir passed them two custom made sniper rifles. A larger than usual smile appeared on Alexis as she geeked at the custom rifle. It was almost comical—her jumping around while donning a ridiculous head gauze. While Hadir's impressive rifle put her in a good mood, Alex suspected it was Hadir, Farah and Alia responsible for this lighter shell of Alex.

He missed this version of her—not haunted by demons of her past. Trust it to be Urzikstan to draw out this side of her again. He'd do anything to make this Alexis stay.

"I'd watch that recoil, Lexi."

Alexis flashed a smile, pushing past him, "And I'd worry about your shots, babe. Trajectory is a bastard in this wind."

He set into a prone position right beside her, getting into tune with the new rifle. Then, Alexis cleared her throat loudly, winking into her sniper scope.

"Say, this cold shoulder treatment is getting a little old..."

A second later, she fired a clean shot into a watermelon 600 yards away. Hadir rejoiced in his native language, "Your fruit killing skills are remarkable, Alexis!"

"Don't I know it," Alexis winked. He sensed her scheming face before she even wore it, "Alex, since we're out here swatting flies, what do you say to a friendly competition?"

That interested him, "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she shrugged. "One minute. Whoever shoots the most is the winner. And the loser..." There was a glint in her eyes, "Has to do anything the winner says."

His eyes landed briefly on her grinning lips before he agreed.

The playing field was set: plastic bottles, some rotten fruits and crates. His index finger rested snuggly on the trigger, head lowered to dial into the scope.

"Okay! One minute starts..." Farah paused, "Now!"

Pulling the trigger was an unconscious effort by now, a steady exhale later and in between heartbeats, he fired. Right off the bat, he shot through one plastic bottle nested across the highway. Beside him, Alexis missed her shot, mumbling about how the recoil was too strong.

"Is the prize not enticing enough?" he mused, aiming for his second trophy.

"Only if you lose," her airy laughter made it hard to suppress another smile.

Within fifty seconds, it was a tie. It came down to the final plastic bottle. It was difficult to line a shot with the sun glaring right at him. Still, Alex kept his shoulders levelled and spoke with confidence, "Any last words?"

"You first."

Exhale.

Shoot.

Heart hammering in his chest, they watched collectively as the single bullet tore through the plastic bottle, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

"And that's how it's done!"

Alex tilted back to reach Hadir's high-fives. "My brother, your biggest fan," Farah smiled.

For someone who lost a bet, she didn't play the role. With a charming smile, Alexis' fingers snaked the curve of his wrist. Alex pretended she didn't just jolt him awake with a simple touch, "So. What am I supposed to do?"

"I know just the thing," a brash grin slipped back onto Alex's face, thinking how he had more luck than skills. Or maybe it was an added motivator.

━━━━━━

Everything went wrong quick and fast.

When Price radioed with news, they expected the Wolf to scramble their way. What they didn't expect was Barkov's company.

Alexis split from the group, taking main overwatch at the next building beside them. Her injuries worried him. But their promise to inexplicably trust each other in the field triumphed his concerns. An enemy sniper across the highway was picking Farah's army off one by one. And Alexis... "Dropped his ass!"

That's my girl.

Winking into his own scope, he burst the tires off a suicide truck with a single shot. The one upside about this shit show was that Barkov's army helped clean up the Wolf's men for them.

He dodged back into cover just in time when a bullet whizzed past him. Shit, they found him. Farah panicked, "We need help! Where is Captain Price?"

"Won't make it in time! We need a Hail Mary for these fuckers!" Alexis shouted over the crossfire.

He spared a quick glance to check on her. In the blinding sunlight, her hair turned into a colour that reminded him of bitter tea. Several stray pieces of hair stuck against her sweaty neck. Alexis was still holding her weight, but it was obvious she was growing weary.

But no amount of energy could change the fact that they'd be boxed in by the enemies soon. And Farah and Hadir had too much honour in their cause to retreat. Alexis was right, they needed an ultimatum.

"I've got more firepower in the truck! Alexis, cover us! And Alex, follow me!" Hadir nudged him. Alex left the rifle at his nest and dropped down the ladder to follow Hadir.

"Hadir! Please tell me you have a big enough stone!" Alexis yelled past the gunfires.

"The biggest, sister! They won't know what hit them!" He followed Hadir in and out of different houses.

Without warning, a spray of bullets burst through the battlefield. Alex didn't think much of it until Farah yelled Alexis' name in a state of manic. His first instinct was to charge back in their direction, but Hadir kept a death grip on his forearm, reminding him they only had a small window to make this work.

This better fucking work, Alex thought. Dying on the Highway of Death would be too prophetic.

"My truck is full of explosives, very powerful explosives, it's time to use them! Open the tailgate, quickly! I'll cover us! Open it, Alex!"

The truck held canisters of– "Russian gas?" The entire time Alexis and he spent looking for leads of the stolen gas...

Hadir stole them?

"Yes! And now we send it back to them!"

It was too late. The tremors of an explosion, the screamings. They were lucky not to be swept in the explosion radius, but from the green gas that now terrorised the air, that was the least of Alex's worries. Soldiers irregardless friend or foe, doubled over to cough their lungs out. Blood sprayed ruthlessly in the air before they collapsed.

"You said we needed a big enough stone. This is it, Alexis!"

"No... No no no! Not like this–" Her sentence cut off.

Alex was on autopilot at this point, blindly following Hadir back into a house. Only Farah yelled through the comms, but it was radio silence from Alexis.

Please be okay. Although the raw coughs outside the bunker made him feel foolish for harbouring hope.

The gas worked quick, already blurring his vision. His head spun wildly and his throat scratched. The deadweight of his combat vest alone was enough to make him flop like a raggedy doll. His weakness fed his panic. Alex held onto the bunker's walls with every bit of strength still inside him.

Alexis, he recited over and over again. Alexandra Ward.

Bring her home.

Find her. Find her. Find her.

If Alex hoped the incantation could hold power for him, he was greatly mistaken. One step forward, he crumpled down the floor like an abandoned puppet.

"Hadir–" Alex's vision floated in and out, unable to see Hadir. He briefly registered a new weight over his face. A gas mask. Alex slurred through his words, "Alexis... Find..."

He fought against losing consciousness, not knowing when Farah ended up in the bunker, but only knew she was alone. "Alexis!" he weakly tried their comms again.

Fuck, stay the fuck awake. Not like this.

He channelled all the remaining energy he had, however little. He didn't stop, not even when his breathing slowed, his vision now appearing in phases, or his urge to vomit his guts out. Frantic, he reached for anything he could get his hands on–

His fingers flexed, not even able to feel the texture of leather of his gloves. All he could do was that, and blink to keep himself awake. Hadir was mumbling incoherently about something, not wearing even an ounce of regret from the mere silvers of sight Alex peeked through.

Hadir ran out the door like a coward. Some part of him prayed for the shred of Hadir's humanity to find Alexis.

Alex swore he saw the sun outside melt away, turning his world blue in twilight. His last thoughts were about a certain Bali sky.

━━━━━━

The buzzing of a helicopter shocked him awake. Alex shot up immediately, realising they were still in the bunker. It was deadly quiet, too quiet. Then he realised it was just his blocked hearing.

His world still swirled on its own axis when Price and Kyle came running in. Staring blankly when Price shouted something he didn't understand.

Alexis. The fog in his brain cleared. He kneeled his way over to the unconscious women who laid beside him. Using all his might, he propped her into his lap, fear-stricken when blood stained his hands.

Where did that come from? He hurriedly wiped the molten blood off her head, finding the opened stitches to be the root source.

"Holy shit, captain," Kyle deadpanned, a face full of dread, "This is bad."

Price wasted no time before scooping Alexis up and away to the helicopter.

Alex was thankful for Price who supported the weight he most definitely couldn't: the weight of Alexis dying in his arms.

━━━━━━

It must have been only a few hours of solitude Alex had since they returned to base. Laswell sent all of them to medical immediately—and Alex answered with a clean bill of health. He might be out of the woods, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

An unmistakable voice roared outside his ward, followed by someone yelling. He cursed loudly when his eyes snapped open. Did everything have to be white and smell of ammonia?

When his door swung open, he immediately shoved his trembling hands into the sanctuary of the hospital gown's pockets. In his doorway, his glazy vision told him someone was propped up by two other figures. Once his vision finally registered who she was, he bolted over. Much like him, she had an IV drip in toll.

Alex caught her by the waist when she faltered. "Farah," he gave her a once-over, "They cleared you?"

The commander nodded, stepping into his room with feeble steps. Although Alex suspected Farah's ashen face wasn't the result of the toxic gas. He passed her the tray of hot porridge that sat idly on his table.

His hands dropped when Farah eyed it in concern. He cleared his throat, jerking his head to the tray. As expected, Farah rejected it too.

"I'm sorry, Farah," he started, tracing the IV needle embedded in his forearm. For strange reasons, it calmed him. "Hadir..."

"Is my brother," Farah said sharply, "I should have known..." Alex rushed to her defence, but Farah raised her voice in both sadness and anger, "No Alex, I should have known. It is my job as his sister. Hadir was losing faith in the militia, but I pretended not to see it."

Alex averted his sight away. Unsure what to say to comfort Farah. He couldn't begin to understand, nor did he want to pretend he could. Farah rubbed an exasperated hand over her face, "Hadir killed most of my men. And..." Her voice wavered, eyes shining brighter under the blinding fluorescent lights.

"Alia," he said on her behalf.

How did everything go sideways so fast? Five hours ago, all of them were squeezed in the back of a truck, wind in their hair and laughter in their words. Alexis had promised Alia to a hamburger after this shitty war passed, because the war-torn girl had never seen one, let alone tasted one.

"Hadir will pay." Again, Alex remained silent. What could be worse than hunting your own brother? "And if Alexis... doesn't make it..."

Alex sighed, still rubbing circles around his IV. Farah's words all but gutted him.

Alexis tried going back for Alia, which prolonged her exposure. Her open wounds sent her condition from dangerous to life-threatening. The ringing in Alex's ears was so loud but he managed to hear something about chlorine poisoning.

Alex tiredly pressed his palm against his eyes, trying to force the memory of Alexis' rigid body out of his mind but only received another vision of her intubated with an oxygen ventilator. "The Cipro and antitoxin are a wild shot. They're more worried about the fluid in her lungs."

To Alex's surprise, Farah picked up the bowl of porridge to eat. The smallest of smiles tugged across her lips and somehow it made Alex feel much better. "I have no doubt she'll wake in a few hours. She's a tough one."

Alex remained silent.

"Maybe we should try dangling that forsaken ration pack she loves," Farah tried to joke, but her tone felt otherwise. A few seconds later, she continued, "Alexis survived worse. She will pull through."

Was Farah talking about St.Petersburg? It almost slipped his mind that she was the reason for Alexis' safe return. Well, her and... Hadir.

Hadir's betrayal would break Alexis... If Alia's death wouldn't.

Maybe guilt encouraged Farah to supplement the gaps in Alex's understanding, but she explained everything. From the burning house, Alexis' threatening to leave, to how she delivered Alexis safely to St.Petersburg. Whatever Alex knew was from the mission report, the gruesome details blacked out for clearance. The way she described Alexis' injuries induced nausea in him again.

But something else Farah said intrigued him. "A few weeks after Alexis left, the mercenaries returned to Urzikstan. Demanding blood for the American, they said."

Alex leaned out of his chair upon hearing this. It was a piece of the puzzle the rescue task force was couldn't collect. Even the joint task force of JSOC, CIA and SAS ran up cold leads as to who was behind the kidnapping.

"One of the men mentioned a name, Gaia."

‧͙⁺˚*·༓

a/n: alexandra... ward!!!!!!! her name is strictly need-to-know so we gotta thank alex for his pov lmao. & i'm pretty sure her injury counter is through the roof rn. but cheers to me for beating up my characters lol.

alia though... i'm absolutely gutted over this.

taglist: @shigarakiluvbot​ @wanderlustgiant​ @captain-pikas-world​ (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

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Yesterday was a busy day of meetings and airplane travel for peter and connor but last night peter took some time to share his thoughts on the passing of the great christopher lee christopher lee was the tallest actor I ever knew he was also by far the most literate when we first met in a los angeles studio where he was recording his lines as king haggard in the last unicorn he had just recorded haggard’s speech about his first sight of unicorns and I mentioned that it was probably my favorite speech in the book he immediately wanted to know well did I do it properly we can always redo it right here of course he’d handled the lines perfectly but writers and writers’ opinions about their work mattered intensely to christopher that same afternoon we discovered that between the two of us we we could call to mind just about all the lines of g k chesterton’s poem the rolling english road we also discovered a mutual need to hit the men’s room and my son dan in his mid teens at the time still has a very clear memory of christopher simultaneously peeing while declaiming in that voice which no one could ever keep from imitating after fifteen minutes with him before the roman came to rye or out to severn strode the rolling english drunkard made the rolling english road a reeling road a rolling road that rambled round the shire and after him the parson ran the sexton and the squire I leave it to the reader to imagine that voice in the tiled acoustics of a hollywood bathroom we met a second time in munich where the last unicorn was being dubbed into german most of my memories of that time and of chris lee have to do with books and authors he had known both j r r tolkien and a writer who mattered more to me t h white we had a long ongoing argument in munich about a chapter of the sword in the stone that appears in the english edition of the book but not in the american one he turned out to be right he usually was he never failed to mention the last unicorn as one of his very favorite books and as one of the movies he was most proud of having made indeed he left my whopperjawed as mark twain would have put it when we were being interviewed together on austrian television and he announced oh yes I simply couldn’t resist a chance to play king haggard one more time even in another language after all and he looked straight into the camera it’s the closest they’ll ever let me get to playing king lear the camera swung toward me to catch my stunned reaction and chris looked across the studio at me and winked but my most vivid memory chilling as it remains to this day has to do with the day that I and michael chase walker associate producer of the last unicorn and the one who really got the film made in the first place somehow found our way out to dachau I can’t now recall how we managed it considering that neither one of us spoke german and that you had to take both a subway and a bus to get there from the hotel where the crew were staying but we got there somehow and spent a good half of the day roaming with other tourists around a legendary concentration camp peering blindly into the huge crematoriums but staring with equal horror and fascination at the endless rows of filing cabinets containing every record of every human being who was ever imprisoned starved gassed or simply worked to death in this place michael and I grew quieter and quieter that afternoon until by the time we started back to munich we weren’t speaking at all I think we both felt that we might say anything in words again the first person we met in the hotel lobby was christopher he took one look at us and announced you’ve been to dachau we nodded without answering chris strode toward us looked all the way down from his six foot five inch altitude lowered his voice and inquired still smells doesn’t it with the end of world war ii christopher as a member of the special forces and whose five or six languages included fluent german had been assigned to hunt down and interrogate nazi war crminals and had been present at the liberation of dachau and yes the smell of death had undoubtedly faded somewhat since 1945 but it was still as real as michael and me wandering dazedly between the ovens and the filing system we just didn’t know what it was but christopher did and i’d know it again I never saw him again after munich though we spoke on the telephone a few times on the last occasion when I had called to wish him a happy 90th birthday I remember him assuring me that if by the time you come to make your live action version of your movie I have passed on do not let it concern you I have risen from the dead several times I know how it’s done he worked almost to the last as the real artists of every kind do they work to be working because that’s what they do and they die when they stop I always regarded him as the last of the great 19th century actors that bravura larger than life style went with him no modern rada trained performer would ever attempt it today nor 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Chapter 2: Adios to tomorrow

You worked here long enough, so you should be used to it by now – people being total asses.

Especially the rich, spoiled asses.

You were already worn by explaining the old lady how the hotel restaurant works (it could be easier if she would just listen to you instead of interrupting all the time) and it was only 8PM. By the looks of it, the night would be long.

- Family from the 215 is in! – Yoonho announced to you with surprising cheerfulness; somehow he didn’t even sweat moving all the suitcases to the second floor. As always, spotless face and full smile.

- Great – you answered, your voice in opposing manner to his:- The granny from the couch needs help to 220.

He giggled like schoolboy; he was like one for you, most of the time.

- Shh, Y/N, what if she will hear you?

- She didn’t hear me first three times when I told her that kitchen closes at 11PM, so I assume she won’t – you grumbled, giving him the room card.

- Don’t be a meanie, it doesn’t suit you – he smiled in your direction:- I’ll be back in a minute! We will make it, Y/N!

Sometimes you were really thankful for Yoonho – he was a sweet boy. His optimism was infecting for sure, which was helping your everyday routine. Cracking jokes all the time, being reliable, giving you compliments on random occasions.. sunshine in a cloudy life.

But you can’t deny, on days like this – with hall full of people giving you shit just because they can – you wanted to punch this smile off his face. Which you won’t, cause you know it’s taking your silly frustrations on him. You’re grateful he’s gone, though.

Loud laughter from the group next to the door caught your attention; wonderful. Not even a second for yourself, you’re doomed to listening about Bali’s marvelous apartments. That’s real shit, not the ones here, you know? Who the hell even rent those? Pathetic.

You tried to swallow your irritation, remembering how the lads desperately  tried to book the apartments not even an hour ago. Dicks, you almost wrote in registration documents.

Still, when the door opened once again, you smiled sweetly.

- Good evening!

The man who entered was wearing all black; shiny coat, some t-shirt and leather pants. Black hair was a little disheveled, thanks to the weather outside. His strode was confident and his presence intimidating. He slung valise over his shoulder and leaned against reception’s counter, looking around.

- Good evening – you repeated with less politeness. You scolded yourself, but couldn’t make your tone any better:- How can I help you, sir?

He finally looked at you, silver earrings dangling around his neck stopping its movement.

- Good evening, lovely madam – you were strong enough to stop your eyes from rolling, but he recognized the annoyed shift of your feet and smirked a little.

Great. Another overconfident jerk.

- Do you want to book some room for tonight? – you clutched to your stoic, work expression.

He dropped his valise, keeping his eyes on you and you couldn’t deny; it gave you shivers, not quite sure why. Guest usually treated you poorly or ignored you. Such attention is something you’re not really used to.

Right. It must be it.

- Actually, I already have a reservation here.. just a moment – he searched in his coat, but didn’t find what he was looking for. Quiet groan fell from his lips and before you could ask, he shrugged the coat off and started digging in his back pockets.

On his arms were multiple, dark colored tattoos. Some traditional asian work and few random pieces. It suited him well, looking as a natural part of his body. He surely wasn’t a typical client of your hotel; but his confidence didn’t make anyone question him.

He handed you his ID and dark card; oh. You know this.

- Hyungwon supposed to book the whole floor for us.. – he started to explain, but upon seeing the look on your face, he chuckled:- Looks like you know all the jazz, Miss.

You took the documents hesitantly. Well, the management booked the reservation from mysterious Mr Chae because he paid already (and paid good price), but you were unsure about whole ordeal. Why nobody question these people seriously?

This time you had the document, at least.

- So, Mr Lee..

- Just Jooheon – he leaned in, again looking straight into your eyes:- Please, I hate receiving such cold attitude from pretty girls.

Your body was faster than your brain and you didn’t stop yourself from giving him an upset look quick enough. Surprisingly, he laughed – a very natural, full laugh, showing off his deep dimples.

You casted your eyes downward in sudden embarrassment, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks.

- Just a second sir and I will open your reservation. Please wait.

- Take all the time you need, Miss. I am in no hurry.

*

Night shifts are definitely calmer than the day ones, but everything has its disadvantages. During day, the hotel is full of staff. At night? You’re almost alone. Yoonho stays late when there’s such a need only – big reservations or problematic guests. Sometimes he does it to provide you company because he’s such a cutie, but when management found out he’s not really working, his long hours were cut immediately.

Gotta think positive; you’re not stuck to the chair all night. When parents from 305 need new bedding, thanks to their wonderful kids, you’re the one who comes at their door with fresh bedclothes.  A little walk will stretch your legs at least.

Looks like it won’t be the last route tonight. You’re surprised to find a a tray with lid left on your desk when you arrive back on the reception.

- Ah, the kitchen left it here – the security man answered your silent question. He was sitting at the lobby with today’s newspapers, taking care of possible guests coming while you were away.

You looked at the clock; right, it was slightly after 11PM.

You sighed and informed your coworker you will be back in a few minutes. With heavy tray in the hands and steps in the direction of the elevator, you couldn’t help the irritation that started to bubble inside you slowly. Seriously, the kitchen could fulfill the last request for tonight, it wasn’t that late – and now you’re stuck with it. The old lady from 220, no doubts.

You briefly took a glance at the small yellow note glued to the lid – Dinner to 401, thanks Y/N! XXX, your cooking mates

You had to read it one more time, neck stiffing suddenly; the first apartment’s guest, then. You clicked the 4th floor button and brushed fingers through your hair, making it look somehow more presentable. You were starting to get nervous, a little more with every floor, so when you get to fourth your heart was already beating loudly in your ears.

Calm down, it’s nothing new. Like the bedsheets with 305. You’ve done such stuff multiple times.

It didn’t help sadly, you noticed how sweaty your hands became while knocking at the door. The silence was almost overwhelming, starting to make you think if you should knock again or use it as an excuse and bolt the heck away; yes. Bolting away it is. You started to take a step back, when the door opened.

You were greeted with the surprised face of the man from earlier tonight.

- Huh? – with eyebrows high, making his eyes bigger than normal:- You’re working as the waitress too, Miss?

Well, almost. I am doing everything here.

- Good evening – you bowed your head and offered the tray:- Your order, Mr Lee. The kitchen closed already and asked me for help.

- And you helped, of course. Still calling me by surname, too – he shook his head. You weren’t sure if it was because of the first or second part of his answer.

You smiled politely; stay professional. That’s your way. You are in control of the situation.

- Please, come in –he opened the door wider, inviting you with his hand.

Or not, you thought.

You stepped inside the glamorous apartment. The lights were dim. Everything here were made of money and whispered thousands in all senses. Golden canopy, snow white sheets, lush carpet.. weak flowery scent,  mixed with strong chemical aroma. That’s something new, what is this?

- You can put it there, the desk is stuffed as you can see..

That was true; although the apartament’s desk was big, provided for hard working clients, whole surface was full. You stole a glance at various items; random machines, some small colorful bottles, medical packages.

- I’m trying to organise a little – Jooheon explained, noticing your look and grabbed one of the bottles:- Working on the road means you carry shit with you, but I definitely have too much.

You murmured shy „sorry”, thinking you’re way too nosy,  but he shrugged.

- No worries, Miss – his eyebrows wiggled teasingly:- I can see your curiosity. It started when I got here, right?

- What? – you deadpanned. Is that some weird start of his flirtation again?

- I saw how you looked at me – his answer came immediately, as if it was obvious. He took few steps in your direction, which made you freeze in your spot, but he just took the fork and digged one of the dumplings on the plate you brought:- Like a kid seeing the lion in the zoo for the first time, wasn’t it?

This is going in the wrong direction, you decided, so you shook your head.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr Lee. I will excuse myself, hope you will..

- I also saw how you looked at boys in the lobby. Spoiled brats, I agree.

You shut your mouth quickly, feeling your thoughts spinning. What? Do I make my thoughts that clear with my face or something? Maybe I murmured some insults unwittingly?

He smiled a little at your expression, dropping the fork at the table.

- You don’t have to be so polite with me, Miss Y/N – came his sincere words:- Some people don’t deserve your respect. Especially rich bastards from the hall, who think they have it all just because they have enough cash to sleep here.

- Like you?

The question flew out of your mouth before you could think; you quickly covered your mouth, scolding yourself again. You lost control around this man and it will get you in trouble, no doubt. If he speak to your manager, you’re fired in the matter of seconds.

Surprisingly, Mr Lee laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

- Ahaha, you’re absolutely right! – he admitted:- Although, it wasn’t always like this. Makes a little difference.

He motioned to random stuff on the table.

- Thankfully, my art pays me well – his hands rummaged slightly through small machines, when it made sense to you.

- You are tattoo artist ..?

Brunet turned in your direction, just nodding. All chemicals hanging in the air were from disinfection tools, small machines actually tattoo guns. His confidence and visuals contrasting to hotel explained it perfectly. You got a feeling he was a kid raised in poor environment, but made to achieve greatness; you would like to think about yourself like that, too. Which is absolute nonsense, of course. You’re just a ordinary receptionist, who will be stuck here forever.

When you looked at him again, he smiled devilishly.

- Sit down, I will paint a little gift for you.

- I-I don’t..

- Come on, you brought the food even if  you didn’t have to – it was a lie, but you didn’t have time to protest; he moved one of the chairs for you to sit on.

- You were nice, let me show you I can be too.

Jooheon started to dig in his belongings, clearly not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Hesitantly you sat on offered seat, not really understanding the situation, but not being brave enough to stop it. Even if you ran away, he still had the uppercard about your mean outburst earlier. Damn it, you seriously need to watch your mouth.

He sat opposite to you, startling you from your thoughts.

- Easy there – he chuckled, shaking some aerosol spray:- Give me your hand. Right one. And roll your sleeve a little.

You did as he asked, feeling his eyes on you all the time. You felt like a prey observed by a hawk. He took your hand in unexpected subtle manner though, switched your wrist veins upwards and sprayed the area. Strong alcoholic scent hit your nostrils immediately.

In silence, he prepared small can with black ink on a side, wore gloves and grabbed a tattoo machine; turning it on, the buzz sound echoing in luxurious apartment. It was way too harsh in such aureate space.

Wait, it meant –

- Hold on! – you took your hand back, careful to not touch the sanitized skin anyhow:- You’re gonna tattoo me? Like, for real?

You sounded stupid, that much was obvious by his face, but that were your first thoughts. Shit. Again. Talking before thinking.

- And what were you thinking?

Okay, now was a good time for honesty.

- I don’t know – came your answer, then you started to get up:- I am afraid I have to go, Mr Lee. Thank you for the offer.

- What is this? – he looked at you with furrowed brows:- You’re seriously gonna ditch me now?

- Well, it’s not like I asked you for it! – you snapped. Taking a deep breath, you tried to control your emotions; what is happening, for God’s sake? You’re usally composed, shitty guests not taking that much of a toll on you and you’re definitely more polite.

Karma comes back, you always told yourself. Treat other like you would like to be treated; hotel guests could be horrible, but they could be also pleasant. Their good nature were sometimes smashed by reality of business you will never understand. Actually, nobody knows what is in the head of other person. You know that, you lived by these values – it helped you come through everyday.

Why is this man turning you into such a mess?

- Huh, so that’s how it gonna be – he leaned back on his chair, with his equipment still in hand:- You’re gonna go back down and be a little, good girl, only dreaming to come out of her shell.

You shook your head, trying to calm the waves of coming anger. It’s ridiculous. You just came here to deliver the dinner, he’s the one with this bizzare idea of tattooing you in the middle of your shift. You don’t even know him. Is that machine safe?

- Okay – he shrugged, not getting any answer from you:- Don’t cry later about wasted chances, Miss. Looks like you don’t have balls after all.

Words still didn’t come out of your throat, disbelief almost choking you.

- Shame, really – tattooer sighed, then looked straight at you with a little smirk:- You could have it all, Miss.

Such simple words striked you straight to the pit of the stomach; he’s not talking only about this stupid tattoo. He’s talking about your whole life, Y/N.

I really could have it all.

You tasted the bitterness of regret on your tongue: the regret of breakup with your boyfriend, wasting your youth with working all the time, not having real friends, being stuck with your parents.. all these things danced in front of your eyes. Is this man pitying you? Or offering an exit of boring existence?

You wondered for a moment if there was some drugs in the air for making you feel like this. Looking at Jooheon, you decided it was his persona that must have stupefied you. His confidence, succesful lifestyle, evident good looks – maybe if things were differently, you also could achieve something.

You wanted it, the greed for a change excited you enough to send electricity through your whole body.

You sat again, offering hand to dangerous man ahead of you.

He didn’t say anything, but smiled in satisfaction. Taking a grip of your fingers, stronger than before, he started the machine again.

- So, what will you paint?

He hunched slightly, giving you a dark look. You curled your toes unconsciously, but somehow it looked like he knew. His dimples gave him a sweet vibe, in harsh opposition to his hungry eyes. For what? Scarring your skin as a first to ever do so?

Or just for your obvious innocence?

Heat started to make its way to your face by just thinking about it. Atmosphere changed to more intimate, which clearly made you flustered. Jooheon though took a comfort in it and winked at you:

- You will see, Miss.

thank you for reading

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