The buzzing of the tattoo needle filled the small studio as Jake sat in the corner chair, wide-eyed, watching his sister Gaby lie stretched out on the padded table. She had her hoodie off and her sports bra on, hair tied in a bun, one arm tucked behind her head while the artist carefully worked on the delicate outline along her ribcage. The design: a small, intricate koi fish surrounded by tiny blooming flowers — something she said represented growth, endurance, and a lot of personal meaning.

Jake blinked. “You good?”

“I’m DYING,” Gaby said through gritted teeth, her voice dramatic as ever. “Like actually, this is the worst pain of my life.”

The tattoo artist chuckled softly. “You’re doing fine, Gaby.”

She hissed. “Easy for you to say — you’re not getting stabbed on the side of your RIBS.”

Jake laughed. “Didn’t you once play a flag football game with a jammed finger and keep going?”

“That was different!” she snapped, then whimpered. “I didn’t expect it to feel like a freaking wasp just decided to scribble art into my bones.”

“Pretty sure you told me it wouldn’t even hurt that bad,” Jake teased.

“That was before I knew it felt like being scratched by the devil’s fingernail,” she said, gripping the edge of the table. “God, why didn’t I get it on my arm or something?!”

He couldn’t help but smirk. “You’re being SO dramatic.”

Gaby shot him a glare, then softened. “Okay, but it’s gonna look so cute, right? Totally worth it?”