Chapter 3
On that night five years ago, after class, I was heading home when I saw Leo get tossed out of a car, his tools scattered everywhere.
He dropped to his knees, picking up his tools one by one.
I ran over and hugged him tight. Together, we gathered up the damaged tools. I wiped the tears from his face.
Leo told me he'd gone to a client's place for a tattoo, but the client got pissed and threw him out on the spot.
I could relate to his rock-bottom despair, his helplessness and confusion, and the way he stubbornly chased his dreams. I understood it all.
That night, we held each other tight and cried together.
He told me I was the most important person in his life, the only one who truly understood him.
As for me, I carried the scars of a broken childhood. My mom was gone, and my dad had married again.
My stepmom played favorites. She kept me out of school, blew all our money on her son's pleasures, and every few days, she'd take her anger out on me with her fists.
My body was always covered in bruises and scars.
My closet was stuffed with long sleeves and pants. Not a single short-sleeved shirt in sight.
Later, my stepmom kicked me out, calling me a burden.
I survived against all odds, always caught between a rock and a hard place.
I worked my ass off to pay for my own education and managed to get into grad school for art.
It was a long, hard road.
When I looked at Leo, I saw my own struggles reflected in him. That was why I spoiled him rotten, never denied him anything, even when it hurt me.
I spent my life longing to be protected by someone who loved me, the way I had protected Leo.
Kara would never understand why I was so hopelessly loyal to Leo.
But with Lucy's arrival, our love lost its purity.
On the bottom right corner of Leo's design drafts always bore the same mark in the corner.
It was not a signature, but a line of poetry: [A slumber did my spirit seal.] It was handwritten in tiny, careful script.
I asked him what it meant.
He brushed it off. "It's nothing. Just a line of poetry. A metaphor for my dreams—distant and out of reach, yet somehow right there in front of me. Something to keep me pushing forward."
I believed him without a doubt.
Chatting with Kara, I grabbed the sketch of angel wings from my desk.
My gaze fell on that line of poetry in the corner.
And in that instant, everything made sense.
That line was from Wordsworth, The Lucy Poems.
Lucy. So that was how it was. What a joke.
A bitter laugh escaped me. I'd stared at that line of poetry for five years, and only now did the truth hit me.
I was such an idiot, clutching their love notes, admiring them like they meant everything, and even helping Leo finish his work without a second thought.
I couldn't have been more stupid.
"Kara, does the Avelin art exchange program start next week?" I asked, calmly putting the sketch back where it belonged.
"Technically, it kicks off in three days. But didn't you, hopeless romantic, already bail on the chance? I was planning to snag my idol Ash's autograph all by myself and make you jealous," Kara teased.
"Sign me up. I'm going, too. Buy my ticket now."
"Wait, aren't you supposed to be hanging out with that crazy guy for the international competition that day?"
The competition Kara was talking about was the international tattoo competition Leo had been dreaming about for ages.
It was his first time competing as a tattoo artist, and the winner would receive the Grand Master Award.
It was the pinnacle of the tattoo world.
Tattoo artists could pick their own models.
They needed to collaborate with their models and flawlessly ink the design onto the skin, exactly as shown in the draft.
The judges assessed the artists' aesthetic vision, technical execution, and how well the design adapted to the model's skin quality.
Leo could have had any model he wanted, but for some reason, he was dead set on me, insisting I was the best choice.
He used every trick in the book, sometimes sweet, sometimes pushy, all to get me to partner with him for the competition. He said with me by his side, he'd feel grounded, like nothing could shake him.
I couldn't say no.
And the piece Leo picked for the competition? It was those white angel wings, done with that deadly white ink that's a death sentence for me.
The doctors had warned me that if I got another tattoo, my immune system would crash, and that would be it. Not even God could save me.
"I'm going to the competition, and right after, I'm heading to Avelin," I said.
"Mia, you're beyond saving," Kara snapped, then hung up in a huff.
Right after that, another call came in.
It was Leo.
"Are you done being mad?" His voice was still cold, like he was grudgingly cutting me some slack.
I stayed silent.
"Say something, Mia!" he pressed, his tone harsher now.
I still didn't say a word.
His impatience was starting to show, mixed with a hint of worry. "Mia, I know I was a bit harsh today, but I was excited to share my new idea with you. Can you stop being mad?
"You know I lose my temper when I get anxious. I didn't mean to snap at you. I messed up. Will you forgive me, baby?
"I'm sorry. It's all on me. I shouldn't have made you get out of the car or left you behind, Mia.
"I was freaking out. You know how much this competition matters to me, right? I...
"Mia, will you just say something already?"
I hung up on him.
My emotions were a tangled mess, and I couldn't stop the tears from slipping down my cheeks.