The shop was finally set up after you and your mother moved into a rented space. But since your mother was generally busy, you had to step in and take charge. It's fine though, because helping people is usually a lot of fun.

The bell would ring on a bright Saturday morning to let you know someone had entered. Across the street from the tattoo parlor, it was the blond boy who worked there. He looked around the shop.

"Hey," he says with a smile. "Nice place."