I've never been painted before. I never even considered the possibility. But sitting for hours doing nothing is a specialty of mine. Only thing is, I'm not that great looking, really. I just look like a kid who grew up in a drug den. Gemme doesn't seem to think so, though.
"Voila!" snaps me out of my thoughts. I look up and get up to take a look. Gemme stands back from the painting, the sunlight that filters into the room lights up the painting, its smooth colours and slight shine accenting each stroke that combine to make an image of me that is so realistic it could be a photograph. Yet a photograph of someone else. Like a beautiful version of me. A beautiful Luca Cancer. Nothing good about me, but I can be made to look good.
Is this how she really sees me?
"It's amazing," I tell her, glancing from the canvas to her and back again. I wonder if this is the point at which I'm supposed to hug her or something. "You got a real talent there. Artistic licence at its best use," I chuckle and take in the slight smile on the face that looks at us from the canvas. The piercing in my eyebrow on the painting looks so real that I almost reach out to touch it, but I don't. I end up twisting the bar in my eyebrow thoughtfully, before dropping my hand back down to my side.
"Thank you." She blushes again. "I believe it's my best work yet too."
"Just a shame about the subject," I jest, laughing slightly.
"Mmm, far too beautiful to acknowledge in a painting..." she trails off and I give her a weird look, shaking my head.
"I still think you're crazy," I mutter under my breath. I have an idea at that point. "Would you design me a new tattoo?" I ask with a grin.
"Of course! But... what do you want?" I consider for a moment. I don't really know. I just know it's been too long since I had something done.
"Well... Something tribal style. It would look weird if I had something realistic with all the other tribal things I've got." I've never been good at instructions for this kinda thing. The last tattoo I got, the huge one that goes down each arm and across my back was designed on the words "big" and "tribal". And also possibly "now".
"Well... I'll give it a go; you may have to be a bit more specific." She has a look around her room for something, before pausing. "Oh right. Aaron soaked it." I guess she's on about her note book thing. I smile.
"I don't think what I'm after would have fitted in there anyways," I tell her. "I'll go get you a new sketch pad. A big one," I laugh. There's just something about tattoos and piercings that makes me happy. I don't know why. I don't question it, either; I just get them when I'm in the mood for them.
"Then I'd be delighted to design one for you. Where's it going, may I ask?" I hadn't thought about that either. So I think about it.
"Down my left side, so it goes on my front and back a bit. From... just under my arm to my hip, I think," I smile. Something that big would take a long time, but every minute I spend in a tattoo parlour is a genuinely good one. She nods.
"I hope I can make it as beautiful as your others." She murmurs, glancing at the other painting where I'm topless and my tattoos are on show.
"I find freedom for an artist does wonders. The last one was designed from two words. ‘Big' and ‘tribal'. He did a good job. But I'm sure you'll do better. You're better at art than him." I shrug and smile reassuringly. "To the art shop, then?"
"Indeed," she mutters, allowing me to lead the way out of the house into the street. My hands go to my pockets, checking that I have my wallet and then when I find it there where it belongs, I pull out a cigarette and light it. I walk along with this grin on my face, all psyched up about getting a new tattoo. I love knowing tattoo artists. They do them for free when you're friends.