_Wander
The 17th
Paul could scarcely imagine a more lackluster experience than to be made to wait in the lobby of his father's 'office'. It was a far cry from what it would seem. It was an entire mansion, but no one lived in it on a daily basis. An office on the second floor saw the most use, where Paul's father led his criminal enterprise from. The rest was just filled with protection, men in dull monochrome suits, either playing cards, watching TV, or taking patrols around the grounds.
The young man grew up around these men but was never allowed to 'hang out'. His father had plans for his only son which didn't involve being just another gangoon. Law school, best tutors, being dragged along to business meetings and parties. A dream for some, a dull/unwanted reality for others. Paul was curious if his father would bring up that fact when berating him for leaving college. The boy's ruminations were interrupted by a deep voice calling to him.
"Your father will see you now."
The voice came from the opened door that led to Paul's father's study room. The dark-haired college dropout finished his cappuccino in a single swing and stood up, putting his suit jacket back on and buttoning it up. If bad news had to be delivered, he preferred to deliver them with some dignity.
---
Car.
An opened window.
Smoke flowing out of it.
Paul focused on what he saw, leaving other thoughts out of his head. He scarcely wanted to dwell on the memory of his father's rage, of how he was all but disowned. Oh, how that old man could yell...
A half-spent cigarette.
His hand.
His bare hand.
Skin.
After he had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, Paul couldn't help but focus on the smooth, untouched skin of his forearm. Veins, like rivers, branched out from his hand. But no other abnormality. No scars. No birthmarks. Nothing. He couldn't settle on the why, but it pissed him off. That feeling of vulnerability. A feeling of being just another civilian, another cog in the machine.
Paul flicked the cigarette out the window and closed it. He had made up his mind. A thought that had been just a fun dream before now seemed like a reality he had to achieve. Taking out his phone from his pocket, he dialed the number he was given by a classmate months ago. Without waiting to be greeted, he confidently spoke first:
"Sato Tattoo Parlor? Do you have an opening right now? Yeah, whatever, I'll take her. Then call her off her break, not my concern. I'll pay extra."
Dropping the call, Paul leaned back into his seat in the back of the car and met the driver's gaze in the rearview mirror. Normally a glance would be enough, but Paul didn't want there to be a misunderstanding.
"You don't tell anyone. Clear?"
The driver who was assigned to him by his father years ago nodded in agreement but said nothing. Paul wasn't entirely sure if he could be trusted, but neither was this a serious situation. A single tattoo wasn't the end of the world. What's the worst that could happen? Nothing bad ever happened with a simple visit to a tattoo shop...
---
---
...until it did.
Hello! I hope you liked my random RP idea, and yes, I know it's quite open-ended. I don't like coming up with characters for my potential partners. I'd like to brainstorm with *you*, reader. The originally intended idea is for your character to be the tattoo artist Paul visits, but if you have a better idea, I'm all ears.
I do see this story including genres such as crime drama, romance, perhaps some action, and sprinkle on top some darker-psychological-pain stuff. Happy endings are so rare, they may as well be impossible. Unless you convince me with your honeyed words, reader.
So if this idea caught your eye, do message me with a general first-draft idea of your character, and some info about how you see this story continuing. Some twist or something, so I know you will put in some effort. I don't write with lazies.
bye-bye
The young man grew up around these men but was never allowed to 'hang out'. His father had plans for his only son which didn't involve being just another gangoon. Law school, best tutors, being dragged along to business meetings and parties. A dream for some, a dull/unwanted reality for others. Paul was curious if his father would bring up that fact when berating him for leaving college. The boy's ruminations were interrupted by a deep voice calling to him.
"Your father will see you now."
The voice came from the opened door that led to Paul's father's study room. The dark-haired college dropout finished his cappuccino in a single swing and stood up, putting his suit jacket back on and buttoning it up. If bad news had to be delivered, he preferred to deliver them with some dignity.
---
Car.
An opened window.
Smoke flowing out of it.
Paul focused on what he saw, leaving other thoughts out of his head. He scarcely wanted to dwell on the memory of his father's rage, of how he was all but disowned. Oh, how that old man could yell...
A half-spent cigarette.
His hand.
His bare hand.
Skin.
After he had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, Paul couldn't help but focus on the smooth, untouched skin of his forearm. Veins, like rivers, branched out from his hand. But no other abnormality. No scars. No birthmarks. Nothing. He couldn't settle on the why, but it pissed him off. That feeling of vulnerability. A feeling of being just another civilian, another cog in the machine.
Paul flicked the cigarette out the window and closed it. He had made up his mind. A thought that had been just a fun dream before now seemed like a reality he had to achieve. Taking out his phone from his pocket, he dialed the number he was given by a classmate months ago. Without waiting to be greeted, he confidently spoke first:
"Sato Tattoo Parlor? Do you have an opening right now? Yeah, whatever, I'll take her. Then call her off her break, not my concern. I'll pay extra."
Dropping the call, Paul leaned back into his seat in the back of the car and met the driver's gaze in the rearview mirror. Normally a glance would be enough, but Paul didn't want there to be a misunderstanding.
"You don't tell anyone. Clear?"
The driver who was assigned to him by his father years ago nodded in agreement but said nothing. Paul wasn't entirely sure if he could be trusted, but neither was this a serious situation. A single tattoo wasn't the end of the world. What's the worst that could happen? Nothing bad ever happened with a simple visit to a tattoo shop...
---
---
...until it did.
Hello! I hope you liked my random RP idea, and yes, I know it's quite open-ended. I don't like coming up with characters for my potential partners. I'd like to brainstorm with *you*, reader. The originally intended idea is for your character to be the tattoo artist Paul visits, but if you have a better idea, I'm all ears.
I do see this story including genres such as crime drama, romance, perhaps some action, and sprinkle on top some darker-psychological-pain stuff. Happy endings are so rare, they may as well be impossible. Unless you convince me with your honeyed words, reader.
So if this idea caught your eye, do message me with a general first-draft idea of your character, and some info about how you see this story continuing. Some twist or something, so I know you will put in some effort. I don't write with lazies.
bye-bye
