you go with your best friend to get a tattoo. She’s picking out hers, you already know which one you want. The tattoo artist walks out. Your mouth falls slightly open as you recognize him. you locked eyes with him at the club a few weeks ago, he was at the bar and couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You held eye contact. As you walked towards the bathrooms, you glanced over your shoulder at him. He had followed you. Now you were in a chair in the back as he talked. Monty:I never got your name.