Tattooed is the first chapter from my novel-in-progress Needle Pictures, book six in my Skye Wright Rise and Fall series.

In this scene Skye deals with punk prima donnas at a tattoo convention, in a testament to her increasing influence, while she tries to deal with rock and roll life demons.

Tattooed

     The frenetic buzzing was consistent.
     It was coming from all around, from every corner.
     She remembered the old days, when it used to clank like a swarm of metal bees.
     Now, it was electric…
     And she could not stop looking at all of the ink.
     Skye was at the Juno Juliet Tattoo Convention at the Cow Palace, wandering through scores of inked up participants swirling around all of the vendor tables. The background was filled with various kinds of music coming from all corners and the buzz of multiple tattoo machines.
     All of the artists and shops had their booths set up, showing off examples of their work along with tattoo chairs and tables where they could etch their art onto willing and paying tattoo collectors who happened by their stands.
     Nearly everyone there was already sporting tattoos – on their arms, on their hands, on their calves and shins, on their necks, and some with tattoos on their faces. Skye saw all manner of tattoos: old-school flash tattoos, modern graphic designs, band logos, portraits of famous musicians and celebrities, bright and colorful cartoon characters, skulls, bones, portraits of kids or passed on loved ones, roses, tribal designs, pet portraits, and all kinds of animal tattoos.
     Skye noted some interesting pieces of work as she made her way around the crowd. She saw a young man with a large chess piece tattooed on his forearm. She was also impressed by a colorfully dressed woman with an elaborate tattoo of a sewing machine on her shoulder. Skye also noted a very well-done portrait of Nikolai Tesla.
     She also saw a colorful and elaborate tattoo on a baldy’s forearm. It was a dancing skeleton wearing ragged clothes, swinging its arms and legs in front of a tattered and torn Union Jack. She also talked to a shaggy haired second-hand-clothes-store musiciab who had a very small yet highly detailed tattoo of a cross-eyed cartoon rabbit riding a skateboard, which had some of the most exquisite detail she had ever seen on a tattoo.
     Skye tried to rein in her eyeballing as she approached a booth and flipped through one of the portfolios.
     Roach’s mass of light-brown hair was easy to spot as Roach made her way through the crowd to get to Skye.
     “I’m gettin’ a cat,” said Roach.
     “An actual cat or a tat of a cat?”
     Roach pointed towards a booth at the end of the aisle. “This way cool gal Candace is gonna do it for me. She’s makin’ the stencil right now.”
     “Nice. Why a cat though?”
     Roach humbly folded her hands. “Just a little memorial for my ma.”
     Skye scanned the crowd. She began to wonder where Preston and Miranda were. She had expected them to get there before her and Roach showed up.
     That’s when she spotted Preston’s bright blue hair in the crowd.
     “What the fuck dude!” greeted Skye as she barged up to him.
     “Traffic was a bitch and a half.”
     “You drove here?”
     “Yeah.”
     Skye rolled her eyes at Preston. “You be crazy. An’ you have to give me an’ Roach a ride back.” Skye’s eyes bounced around, looking behind Preston. “Where’s Miranda?”
     “She… decided not to come.”
     “Really? She’s the tattoo queen!”
     “Yeah. But she’s already covered, like everywhere. She hardly has any places for new tats.”
     Skye nodded. “Makes sense.”
     Skye encouraged Preston to come with her to drop in on Roach as she got her cat tattoo. As they made their way down a long aisle, they could not help stopping by a few booths. They checked out older tattooists who did more traditional work before moving to the younger artists who did fine line work. They got held up at a table of artists who combined traditional styles with intricate shading and line work. Preston talked to a young woman about getting some of his old needle-and-thread tattoos covered up.
     Someone tapped Skye on the shoulder. It was Roach.
     “I thought you were getting tatted up,” said Skye.
     “I did!”
     Roach kicked her leg up. She had a small, fluffy black cat tattooed on her ankle.
     “Seriously?” asked Skye. “She did it that quickly?”
     “Yep. She just belted it out.”
     The air shifted as people turned to look towards the entrance. Skye could hear convention attendees chattering in hushed and excited tones.
     “What the fuck is going on?” asked Skye.
     Roach stood on her tip-toes and craned her neck. She brought herself back down with a sour look on her face. “Xan is here.”
     “Oh joy,” said Skye with an eye roll.
     Skye had not seen the singer for the infamous pop punk band Hop Skivvy since his mansion party back in Chicago, when he hosted a large rock and roll bash at the Reppers mansion, a party that Tandasil had compelled her to go to for the sake of music business networking.
     “Y’gonna have to talk to him, aren’tcha’?” asked Roach quietly.
     Skye let out a long sigh. “Of course.”
     Skye tapped Preston on the shoulder, as he was still talking to an artist. “Roach already got her cat.”
     “Seriously?”
     Roach kicked up her leg so Preston could see her new ankle cat.
     Then they heard the shout.
     “Fuck you guys!”
     Skye craned her neck to see what was going on.
     “Fucking posers! Goddamn sellouts!”
     Skye recognized the brightly colored locks and dreads of her friend and label scout Trilly. She was right in the face of Xan and his two punked-out companions.
     “What the fuck is your problem?” growled Xan, trying his best to look tough in front of a woman who carried the veneer of a rough and dangerous gutter punk.
     “You fuckin’ heard me!” shouted Trilly as she brought up her hands as if she were getting ready to fight. “What the fuck are you even doing here? Why don’t you go play another corporate show for a buncha rich pricks?”
     Skye made sure not to move too fast. She walked up behind Trilly and put a hand on her shoulder.
     She could feel how tense Trilly was.
     Trilly maintained her scowl as she put her arms down. Skye started to step in front of Trilly just as the short and skinny Xan lunged forward and pushed Trilly.
     Skye managed to catch Trilly as she tried to retaliate, certain that she had just saved Xan from a broken nose.
     “Just back up,” said Skye as she walked right up to Xan.
     “Look who’s fuckin’ talkin’!” yawped Xan as he waved a hand at Skye. “Callin’ us sellouts when we got a label owner here.”
     “Yeah, right. I’m a real bigwig, just like you guys!”
     Skye kept her arms to her sides, but she was ready to strike. She knew Roach and Preston had stepped up behind her.
     Xan scowled at Skye as his two skinny and carefully coiffed green and red haired punk companions tried their best to look intimidating. Skye could tell they were nervous despite their tough guy stares.
     She could also tell Xan was not sure what to do.
     She had no illusions about which side the crowd would fall on if things started to get out of hand.
     Skye walked up to Xan, waving her hand behind her to let her friends know she wanted them to back off.
     “Come on Xan,” said Skye as Xan remained still. “Just ignore the crazy punk an’ let’s us go get a cup of coffee.”
     Xan looked stunned when Skye put an arm around him and started guiding him to the snack stand. She did so even though she was more than a little concerned about what her friends and Xan’s friends would do without their leaders.
     “What the fuck is her problem?” growled Xan as he glanced back at Trilly.
     Skye took her arm back as they kept walking to the snack stand. “She’s just fronting. Don’t worry about her.”
     “You know her?” growled Xan.
     They stopped at the end of the snack stand line. “She’s one of my scouts.”
     Xan looked right at Skye as he furrowed his brow. “She works for you? Did you tell her to mess with me?”
     “Of course not! She’s one of the fuck ups I keep around so I can stay in touch with the trenches.”
     “What the fuck does that mean?
     “You know, get the goods on Gilman, an’ Burnt Ramen, an’ places like that.”
     “Gimme a fuckin’ break. You can’t just go to those places yourself?”
     Skye rolled her eyes. “Every musician in the Bay Area knows who I am. They know I run a record label. They act different around me. If they’re hanging out with sketchy gutter punks who do stupid shit like Trilly then they act like themselves.”
     Xan’s expression softened.
     Skye glanced back at the intersection where the confrontation had taken place. She saw Preston talking to Forty, Xan’s bass player. They looked as if they were having a casual chat.
     Xan insisted on paying for their cups of coffee. They walked over to one of the indoor picnic tables on the far side of the auditorium.
     As they sat down. Skye noticed Xan’s appearance. Somehow his tan skin had become extra clear. His dyed-black hair was spiked, but it looked as if it had been styled by a professional. She also noted that his dark brown eyes looked different somehow, as if he were wearing makeup.
     “Fuckin’ wingnut,” groused Xan as he sat down. “I don’t know why assholes like her have to screech at me. Don’t they know what I’ve done for the scene?”
     Skye bobbed her head around. She wasn’t sure how far she wanted to get into their sellout reputation.
     She took a sip of coffee and slowly set it down as Xan glared across the auditorium.
     “Seriously though, what was up with that?” asked Xan.
     “Come on Xan, are you gonna make me say it?”
     Xan sat back and gave her a confused look. Skye could not tell if he was actually confused or if he was contriving a mood.
     “I mean, a lot of people think you’ve strayed from your roots,” said Skye, “and not for nothin’.”
     “Come on, not even you guys could play Gilman anymore.”
     Skye crossed her eyes. “Not even us guys!”
     “You know what I mean. Where we are…”
     “Sure, I get it. I recently tried to talk The Jolly Sturms outta playin’ Gilman. They’re getting too big for places like that. But, I mean… fucking Salesforce?”
     Xan’s face dropped. He looked at Skye with cold and surprised eyes. “Just so you know, we had them shell out big time for some of the animal rescues around here. That was the price of our playin’ there.”
     “I’m not sayin’ you haven’t done a lot for the scene…”’
     “You know what those small clubs would be like without our support? Or all the bands we helped stay together so they could make it past the broken down van and livin’ with fifty roommates stage? Does that count for nothin’?”
     “I know all that. Whattaya think I’m tellin’ people when they bag on you guys? But fuckin’ mansion parties?”
     “Please. You know how many people want to jam into our parties? We didn’t do it to act like rich pricks. We needed a place that could handle that mob.”
     “Okay, sure. But what you’ve done for the scene, right? Isn’t the word ‘done’, and not ‘doing?’”
     Xan let his eyes wander as he sipped his coffee.
     “I’m not tryin’ to bag on ya’,” continued Skye, “I’m jus’ tryin’ to let you know how some people feel, like Trilly, even though she gets too fucked up about it.”
     Xan pointed at Skye. “Just you wait. When things start blowing up for you, people are gonna start callin’ you posers. Wait until you have gutter punks shouting in your face, telling you you’re a sellout.”
     “That’s already happened. I tossed a singer off of his stage because he was given’ me shit about being a sold out ‘poser.’”
     Skye looked behind her when she sensed another buzz in the crowd. People were stopping and slowing down while staring and gawking towards the entrance, once again.
     “Sounds like somebody else showed up,” said Xan.
     “What? Another rock star?”
     Xan gave Skye a pointed glare before his face suddenly dropped. “Uh oh, I know who it is.”
     “Who?”
     “I can’t see her, but I can see her pretty boys.”
     That was all Skye needed to know.
     Damage had arrived.
     Skye quickly and carefully glanced behind her before turning back to Xan. Xan had scrunched his shoulders, taking a sip of his coffee as if he was trying to hide behind his cup.
     “This should be interesting,” said Skye.
     “No shit.”
     Skye leaned on the table. “So if a brawl breaks out, which side are you gonna be on?”
     “Y’mean when you drop her like a sack of potatoes with one punch? Again? Me an’ my crew are just gonna watch.”
     “Really? Just stand on the sidelines?”
     Xan leaned back. “That fight won’t last long.” He tossed his head in the direction of Damage. “You know you fucked up all her macho cred when you belted her at that wedding.”
     “Honest, I didn’t mean to punch her out. It was just a reflex when she pushed me.”
     “Yeah, you reflexed her into lame-o land.”
     Skye let out a scoff. “Like she wasn’t already there.”
     Skye turned and observed the commotion brought on by the arrival of the former singer for The Drill Bits who had taken off with her own solo career. The memory flash of her fist shooting out and connecting with her glass jaw at Gail and Molly’s wedding was running on repeat.
     Skye had mixed feelings about having knocked her out.
     She felt a hand on her shoulder. Xan had stood up.
     “Honestly, if shit goes down, my crew will be right there,” said Xan as he waved his coffee cup in the direction of his gang of friends. “I mean, Damage is the real sell out here.”
     Skye stood up and patted him on the back. “Thanks Xan, but I don’t think it’ll get that far.”
     “She might have a bigger posse with her than those two pretty boy dorks y’know.”
     “Could be.”
     Xan walked back to his gang as Skye walked up to Trilly and gave her a light punch in the arm.
     “You gonna rein it in?” asked Skye.
     “Yeah, yeah,” said Trilly as if she were an exasperated employee.
     Skye walked past Preston and Forty. She gave Preston a quick pat on the shoulder, grateful that he had stepped in to help diffuse the situation.
     Skye looked around the tables, all while she was careful to keep Damage in the corner of her eye.
     Damage had not changed much since she last saw her at Gail and Molly’s wedding. Her leather jacket was properly old enough, covered with a few carefully and strategically placed patches. Her band shirt was brand new, as was her slick black jeans, but her slightly older Doc Marten boots looked positively preconceived. Her shoulder-length dyed black hair was just out of place, with a few random strands that had been carefully ratted out, just enough to look like she was not trying when she really was. Her entire look was painstakingly designed to make her look like a run-of-the-mill yet slick and down-with-the-street rocker. Skye could tell she had spent quite some time getting a very particular look down, even for something as innocuous as a tattoo convention.
     Damage stopped to talk to one of the artists. Skye looked in her direction while she was also trying her best to blend in, to appear to be just another casual gawker.
     Skye walked through the crowd and set herself at a corner booth, one that was just a few tables away from Damage. She knew Roach, Preston, and Trilly were coming up behind her, but she waved them off, quickly flapping her hand at them until they reluctantly backed off.
     Only a few people recognized Skye, looking between her and Damage with wide eyes, acting as if they were getting ready to make a break for it if a brawl broke out.
     Damage kept talking for a few more minutes before Skye saw her snap her eyes around.
     She had spotted Skye.
     Damage turned around and slowly walked down the aisle, her tall and slim Goth boys obediently trailing behind her. The tattooist she had been talking to stood still with a look of bewilderment, wondering why Damage had suddenly turned away.
     Preston walked up. “You gonna say hi to her?”
     “Fuck no.”
     “No throwdowns?”
     Skye shook her head. “Ain’t no fight gonna happen here. I mean, as long as she doesn’t try anything.”
     Preston waved a hand in Damage’s direction. “She ain’t gonna do nothin’!”
     “You sure?”
     Preston looked around the crowd. “Not unless she’s got a lotta backup here, an’ I don’t think she does.”
     Skye wondered how a showdown would go if Miranda was around.
     And then she remembered, she was there to get a quickie tattoo, if only she could find an artist who wasn’t already busy.
     Skye asked Roach to take her to Candace, to see if she was available to give Skye a quick tattoo. Roach guided her down a row and they found Candace tattooing the shoulder of a tall and skinny Goth girl who blurted “Holy Crap! You’re Skye Wright!”
     Skye talked to Candace as she tattooed the starstruck skinny Goth girl. Candace let her know there were a few people ahead of her.
     Skye and Roach decided to roam the tables they had yet to visit. They stopped at a table of young tattooists who had come down from Sacramento.
     Looking around, Skye spotted Damage a few aisles over.
     She was talking to Xan.