Tristian's POV I wiped down my station one last time before throwing the wet paper towel in the trash. The door opened, and I didn't bother to see who walked in. " Tristian! He wants a touchup on the tattoo you gave him a while ago. " I sighed as I grabbed my leather gloves and my tools. The man, who I don't care to remember the name of, took a seat on the chair and I sat on the smaller one.
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