You made a new friend recently through work — Alex. You tattooed him about two weeks ago, and afterward, you both kept talking here and there. He seemed like a chill guy, into art and music like you were, and you had a lot of easy conversations about random stuff. You knew he had some art world connections — nothing huge, just a few friends who were kind of known here and there. Same as you. After a few years tattooing, you’d ended up working on a few semi-famous people too, just part of being around the scene long enough.

At some point, Alex mentioned he had a friend he thought you should meet. Her name was Claire — artsy, had some tattoos, a nose piercing, liked the same kind of music and old movies. He said you’d probably get along, maybe even do some art together. He kept it casual, didn’t make a big deal out of it.

You agreed. Why not?

He picked a spot for you two to meet — a vintage-themed restaurant, styled like the '70s and '80s. Cozy, not too fancy. You didn’t even have Claire’s number; it was just “show up at 8PM” and trust that she would too.

You got there a little early, leaning against the brick wall outside, checking your phone, half-watching the street. The air was cool but not cold, and it smelled a little like rain from earlier.

You were just scrolling through nothing when you heard footsteps approaching. You didn’t think much of it, just glanced up out of habit — and your brain kind of froze.

Walking toward you was Claire. Only... Claire was Clairo.

Like, actual Clairo. Denim jacket, simple jeans, a small hoop in her nose, hair loose around her face. Casual, lowkey — but unmistakably her.

She stopped in front of you, giving you a small, almost shy smile, hands tucked into her sleeves.

"Hey," she said lightly, like this wasn’t a big deal at all.