Chapter 31 #2
My brain struggles to keep up with his words, each one landing slowly, like a drop of water in stillness. I think you’d make a great apprentice.
How long have I longed to hear something like that? How many times have I imagined a moment like this—where someone sees potential in me, where I’m offered a future that’s mine to shape? A future not dictated by Spare Time, or by family expectations, or the silent pressures I’ve carried for years.
The weight of it all—the obligations, the doubts, the relentless sense I have to earn my place, lifts suddenly from my chest. I didn’t realize how heavy it had become until it was gone.
And in its place: wonder. A quiet, spreading warmth. I let the words settle into me fully, savoring them. This is what possibility feels like.
“Now, usually apprenticeships aren’t paid positions, but I think that’s fucked,” Zeke says.
“I can pay you a small sum, and all the tips will go in your pocket. After the year is up, we can negotiate a more livable wage. We can also talk about your future at this shop. I gotta admit, Ezra, I don’t want to work here for too many more years.
Like I said, I’m ready to retire and spend my golden years traveling.
But I need to leave the shop in capable hands.
I know you have experience with running a business—”
“Wait.” I put my hands up, not certain I’m following him. “Are you saying you want me to run the shop?”
“Not now.” He chuckles good-naturedly. “You have some learning to do, and I hope, over the year, we can cover that. But, yeah, Ezra. I’m saying this position would lead to becoming a full-time artist and possibly a shop manager.
I will still be the owner and involved as much or little as you need me, but you would be the face of the shop.
You don’t have to answer me right now, but I want you to think about it. ”
Think about it? Fuck, that’s all I have thinking about since I discovered my passion for tattooing. And now Zeke is just giving me the opportunity? Part of me wonders if this is a dream, but no. It’s the universe giving me exactly what I want for once.
“You still need to prove yourself,” he says, seeing the far-too-giddy expression on my face. “But I believe you will. So, what do you say, Ezra? Want to be my apprentice?”
There has never been an easier answer. “Yes!”
Zeke grins and opens a drawer, digging through it before producing a folder.
“There’s all the information you’ll need.
Go ahead and look this over. There are a few things you’ll need to fill out.
Why don’t you fill it out over the weekend and bring it back Monday?
Then we can get you in the system. It’ll be your first official day.
Or do you need more time to get someone to take over Spare Time? ”
“My boyfriend runs Spare Time now. Monday will work.”
Zeke reaches out his hand, and I take it. “I’m excited to start working with you, kid.”
“Me too, Zeke. Thank you again for the opportunity,” I say, getting up.
“Of course. I know you’ll make me proud.” He winks at me before I head out.
I leave the shop, cheeks burning from my mile-wide smile. I’m pulled toward the car, back to the person who pushed me out of my comfort zone. The person who believed in me when I couldn’t. The person I love more than anybody in this fucking world.
“How’d it go?” Truett asks nervously the moment I get into the car.
I don’t speak. I just kiss him.
And kiss him.
Until everything around us fades, and it’s only him and I. Like it always should be.
I pull back, breathless, my forehead still resting against his. “I got it,” I whisper, the words breaking into a laugh before I can stop them. Truett’s hands tighten on my waist as I ramble through everything that happened inside, including who actually ended up interviewing me.
The second I mention Zeke, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wait, Zeke owns the shop?” He sounds genuinely caught off guard.
I nod so hard it almost makes me dizzy. “I’m officially Zeke’s apprentice. Starting Monday. Fucking Monday!”
Truett freezes, then his entire face lights up.
His eyes shine like I’ve just handed him the stars.
His unwavering support and pride in me never cease to amaze me.
“Ezra—” His voice cracks, and he laughs to disguise the emotion lingering underneath.
He pulls me into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around me.
“I knew you could do it. God, I’m so damn proud of you.
You should be proud of yourself. You made this happen. ”
It’s not just Truett who believes in me anymore.
Somewhere along the way, I started believing in myself too.
His pride in me isn’t new, but for the first time, I don’t feel like I’m just borrowing it—I can actually feel it in my own chest, solid and real.
It isn’t just pride anymore; it’s belief.
The kind that’s carried me through every late-night sketch, every moment I’ve stood on the edge of giving up and didn’t.
The kind that feels like home. Because Truett is home.
I close my eyes, letting the moment soak into my skin like ink. This is it. The start of everything I’ve been chasing. A year ago, I couldn’t even imagine a future outside of Spare Time. Now there’s a path ahead of me, and it’s mine. Ours.
I picture the life Truett and I will have. A shared apartment full of sketches and bowling shoes, coffee mugs left on counters, nights spent working late and mornings tangled together in bed. A life not just of surviving, but of making something beautiful. Something lasting.
I lean back just enough to see his face. “We’re really doing this, True,” I say softly. “You, me… our own place. Our own lives. Everything we dreamed about.”
He grins, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “Yeah, babe. This is just the beginning.”
For the first time in years, the future doesn’t feel like a cliff. It feels like an open sky. One I’m no longer afraid to explore, especially with Truett by my side.
I take his hand, squeezing it, and let out a breath that feels like release.
“Let’s go home.” When I say it, it doesn’t just mean the house where my mom waits.
It means wherever he is. Truett starts the car, still grinning at me, and as we pull out of the parking lot, I watch The Skin Quill shrink in the rearview mirror.
I think, for the very first time in a long time, my father would be proud.