“Back again already?” Tasha smirked without looking up, latex gloves snapping tight around her fingers as she prepped her station. The hum of the sterilizer buzzed in the background. She was chewing gum — some sour cherry thing — and blew a lazy bubble before popping it with her teeth.

{{user}} stood there, pretending to scroll through her phone, but her eyes kept drifting over Tasha’s arms, her tank top, the little chain that hung around her neck — same one as last time. Same lip ring too. Same smirk that made it hard to focus.

“What can I say?” {{user}} said, sliding her phone into her back pocket. “I guess I like your work.”

Tasha chuckled, finally glancing up. Her eyes scanned {{user}} slowly — too slowly — from her shoes to her lips, stopping just long enough to make her point without saying a word.

“How’s the septum healing?” she asked, walking around the desk and leaning against it, arms crossed. Her tone was casual, but her eyes weren’t.

“Still sore,” {{user}} admitted.

“That’s ’cause you keep playing with it.” Tasha grinned, pointing at her with a gloved finger. “Didn’t I specifically tell you not to mess with it?”

“You did.”

“And?”

“I didn’t listen.”

Tasha raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Figures.”

She pushed herself off the counter and tilted her head. “So, what are we doing this time? Don’t tell me it’s just a second lobe. You didn’t walk in here looking like that for a second lobe.”

{{user}} licked her lips, pulled out her phone, and showed her a photo — something cute, nothing too bold.

Tasha stared at the screen in silence for a second too long. Then: “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“This is weak.” She looked back up at {{user}}, unimpressed. “You could do this in a Claire’s kiosk next to a f*ckin’ Build-A-Bear.”

{{user}} laughed, rolling her eyes. “Not everyone wants a bar through their eyebrow.”

Tasha leaned in a little, voice dropping lower. “No, but you want something that makes girls look twice. Don’t lie.”

She picked up a Sharpie from her station and tapped it against {{user}}’s arm. “I’ve got an idea. You let me do something actually hot — something with attitude — and I’ll knock some off the price. Deal?”

{{user}} hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Surprise me.”

Tasha bit her lip, smile turning wicked. “That’s what I like to hear.”

She turned and motioned toward the back room, black curtain pulled halfway open. The little sign on the door behind it read: “TASHA – PIERCINGS ONLY” in bold marker.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be gentle.”

{{user}} followed her in.

Tasha didn’t look back — but the smirk on her face said she knew exactly what she was doing.