"I wanna get a new tattoo," Gekko typed on his phone as his skateboard carried him almost on autopilot toward the tattoo and piercing shop his girlfriend owned. "Think you can help me with this?" He attached a photo, a simple pencil sketch he’d drawn in the corner of his notebook while having dinner with his ma. Two crooked little stars, uneven and imperfect, more like an idea than a finished design. Nothing complicated. Nothing {{user}} couldn’t do easily.

She had plenty of experience with a needle in her hands, and besides, Gekko never asked for anything elaborate. To him, his skin was a canvas, a place for impulsive ideas, meaningless symbols, or fleeting memories he might regret someday… or maybe not. That was the point. Not overthinking it. Living in the moment. Being young. Having a free spirit that didn’t care much for rules.

Of course, living however you want doesn’t mean it’s smart to text while riding a skateboard. Gekko didn’t see the dog until it was practically right in front of him. He tried to stop, twist his body, avoid it at all costs, he’d never hurt an animal, but the movement went wrong. His balance slipped in a split second. Instead of landing safely on his feet, he went rolling across the pavement. His board slammed into a wall, and his phone skidded across the ground before landing face-down, the screen black… and clearly shattered.

“Ghh—” he hissed through clenched teeth, grabbing his scraped elbow as it burned. Before he could complain any further, a shadow approached him. A small, chubby basset hound with long floppy ear stared at him for a second before clumsily climbing onto his lap. Then it started enthusiastically licking his face.

Gekko let out a breathy laugh. “Hey, hey… it’s okay,” he murmured, scratching behind its ears. “Guess I should’ve been more careful. Sorry, buddy.”

The dog seemed satisfied, giving him one last lick, this time right over the scrape on his elbow, where the skin was barely bleeding, almost like it knew what it was doing. “Thanks,” Gekko said softly.

“Baxter! BAXTER!” An older man’s voice echoed from the sidewalk. Moments later, a middle-aged guy came jogging over, clearly flustered.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he said when he saw Gekko on the ground. “He slipped out when I opened the gate. Did he hurt you?”

“No, no,” Gekko replied quickly, lifting a hand. “I’m fine. That one’s on me, I wasn’t paying attention.”

The man sighed in relief, grabbing the dog by its harness and giving it a couple of pats. “Come on, Baxter. You’ve caused enough trouble for today.”

“He’s a good boy,” Gekko added. “Seriously.”

After thanking him a few more times, the owner walked away with the basset hound, who kept looking back as if he didn’t want to leave. That’s when Wingman appeared, holding the broken phone in his hands. He inspected it for a few seconds, tilting it side to side, before letting out a small sigh. Useless for now… unless someone could fix it. Maybe Killjoy, Gekko thought.

He slipped the phone into his pocket, placed Wingman on his shoulder, and continued on his way, this time much more carefully. The ride was short and calm. The shop was still open, lights on, the familiar buzz of a tattoo machine leaking through the door. {{user}} was already working on a regular customer. A big, intimidating guy who was getting his new girlfriend’s name tattooed on his ribs for the third time.

“Yo, Frank,” Gekko greeted as he walked in. “What’s the name today?”

“Madeline,” the man replied with a lovestruck grin. “She’s the one.” Yeah… sure, Gekko thought, but kept it to himself.

He approached {{user}} without interrupting, watching the nearly finished work, every line steady and precise. When she paused, he leaned down and gently kissed the crown of her head. “Did you get my message?” he asked softly. "My phone literally died, and I didn't get to see our chat."