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Paul reached out toward the ie “Don’t touch it,” Ian said

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, but only for a few days” He taped the gauze back in place “Do you like it?”

“I really do,” Paul said He really did

Paul stood outside his own skin,at his life If anyone had told him a year before that he would be in his bedroootten a tattoo in his honor, he would have told them they were insane It seemed incomprehensible on so many levels First of all, Paul hated tattoos…

He could never have iesture What a leap of faith, to put so on your skin that will last forever, certain you’ll still want it there in twenty years No one had ever ht not live up to it

When his arm had fully healed, Ian asked Paul to take hiet a shirt without sleeves to show off the neork on his shoulder Ian was immediately drawn to a shop Paul would norn was painted in a graffiti style, and the rock music blared a bit too loudly—a tool that was universally eed men like him away Out of all the tank tops in the store, Ian honed in on one with a print of a skull with a knife jammed into the top Paul shook his head

“You don’t like it?” Ian asked “I think it’s cool”

“Get one with a plain color,” Paul was saying as the store clerk walked up The clerk had bleached white hair, a nose ring, and his right ear lobe was stretched by a wide rubber spacer He had poured hie T-shirt, both of which seeay “Swishy” was the word that popped into Paul’s mind

I aht came from

“Hey, Ian,” he said “I haven’t seen you in ages Where have you been?”

Ian knew this guy?

“Oh, yeah,” Ian said “I haven’t been to the clubs in a while I’ anymore”

“No shit?! Ian Fucking Finnerty? Wow That’s great Since when?”

“Sober six ht?” Ian asked Paul