Maybe this was a bad idea.

Maybe not.

Whatever it was, Harry was already two steps away from going through with it, letting out a quiet laugh as he walked beside Kid after leaving the studio where he had been re-recording vocals for his next album, set to release the following year.

They were tipsy.

Not enough to lose all sense of reality—but enough for everything to feel like a good idea.

Including getting a tattoo with absolutely no meaning behind it.

After making some stupid bet that Harry couldn’t even remember properly—but definitely didn’t justify this—he lost.

And his punishment? Getting the dumbest tattoo Kid could think of.

“Slinky.”

“The sausage dog from Toy Story?” Harry had asked.

“It’s a funny word,” Kid replied with a shrug and a grin.

And now they were here. 8:30 PM, inside a tattoo shop in the middle of Via Del Corso.

At least it didn’t look questionable. It was clean, bright, professional.

Still, he’d rather not be here.

“You can’t back out,” Kid said with a laugh, nudging him toward the counter.

Harry adjusted his cap, flipped him off without hesitation, and turned his head toward the front desk to be attended.

And the last thing he expected…

Was to be met with an angel covered in tattoos.