The Tattoo Shop | Michael Clifford Fanfic



I woke up to the Wednesday trash truck. My long black hair covered my face. I got up and untangled my hair. I curled it and sprayed sea salt spray on it. I put on a tight white crop top and black tights. I then put on my series of bracelets and picked out shoes to wear. I decided to wear Vans and then added a black 5SOS beanie. The band was ok, I dig their music. I went to the living room area and grabbed my phone. I had to go to work at the popular tattoo parlor a couple blocks away from my apartment building. I grabbed my bag and hoodie and went into my car. I added eyeliner and a bit of eyeshadow. I used a little lip gloss that tasted like rotten strawberries. I didnt mind a fucking bit, though. I loved my shifts at the tattoo shop and being the head artist, it was amazing. I looked down at my left arm. My tattoo sleeve went perfectly with my outfit. I drove down to the parlor to find atleast 80 girls standing out the door, wearing 5sos merch. I walked out. "Oh shit." I said. I put on my badge and pushed my way to the front of the crowd, which was infront of the shop. I showed the bodyguard my badge. He laughed in my face and pointed at my beanie. My boss, a big, muscular tattoo covered man, came over and let me in. "Thanks." I said. He was like a father to me. I went into my tattoo room, which was visible to the fans outside, and put down my purse. I put on my 2nd favorite playlist, which was full of Greenday and what not. My 1st favorite was too personal and embarassing to play. All of a sudden, all the girls, which i could see through the window, turned around. I heard a loud roar that went on for atleast 15 minutes. Then, four boys came running into the shop. I got blasted my music and went into the idea room, where the boys were. The idea room had tattoo ideas all over the walls. It was possibly the most creative place ever. Luke towered over me, due to the fact I broke my growth plate when I was 12 and I was only 5'1. He turned around and looked down at my beanie. "How old are you?" he asked, giggling. "19, you?" I said. His smile faded and he sadly said, "18". I laughed and went on to Ashton. He was so adorable in real life. He kept giggling and pointing at tattoos and such. "What are you looking for?" I asked. "I want a big skull on my left arm," he said, "but I want it to have a bow." I laughed and went to Michael. He turned around and looked at me. We both made serious eye contact for 30 seconds, at least, and then he smiled and pointed at a tattoo. It was a dying rose. It was one of my designs. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Yeah." he said. "Okay, follow me." I said. We walked past Calum getting his tattoo and he waved at me. I got into my room and Michael sat on the chair. All of the girls were taking pictures, crying, waving, etc. I did the tattoo through laughter. This guy was funny as shit. We had common interests and the same sense of humor. And to be honest, Michael is hot. Like really hot. At then of the tattoo, which was flawless, he gave me a hug and his number. I was confused so I made a confused sounding laugh and said goodbye to the boys.

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