I wake up on a knock of my door. I get out of bed, struggling through my blankets. I grab my woolen robe. I walk outside the room to the door. I open the door. His smiling light full face. His hair is brushed to the back perfectly. He is wearing a white shirt with a blue sweater on top of it. Along with a pair of black jeans and his typical black coat. "Good morning." He says. I check myself. I am wearing pink shorts along with a black sweater. I pull my robe to cover my bare legs. "Good morning." I say with my hands crossed in front of my chest. "You're not dressed yet?" He asks. "Oh, right. Get in." I say as I show him into the apartment. He grabs a chair from the kitchen's table. He sits down. I walk to the coffee machine. I grab two mugs. I pour down the coffee into the mugs. I offer him his mug. He's taking off his coat. "I will take that." I say as he takes the mug from me and I take back the coat. I hang his coat beside mine on the hanger by the door. I walk back to the kitchen. He's drinking his coffee. I grab a chair and sit with him. "So, Are we still going to the tattoo shop?" He asks as he takes a sip from his mug. "Oh yeah. Just give me a minute to get ready." I say as I take a sip from my coffee. He nods to me with a smile as I get up and walk back to the room. I sight as I close the door behind me. Well, it's okay, Coraline. You spent like 7 hours with this guy. You can do this. I take off my robe. I pull my jeans on. I put on a purple sweater. I put the pair of my boots on. I let my hair lose. I think it looks good today. A good hair day. Thank goodness. I grab my bag. I place my phone along with my purse and stuff them inside the bag. I open the door and walk back to the kitchen. He's standing there. He closes the water as I enter the kitchen. His sleeves are rolled up his arms. He grabs the towel that is laying on the chair. He wets his hands. "Hey." He says with a smile as he places the towel back on the chair. "You did the dishes?" I ask in surprise. "Yeah, it's okay. I usually do this at grandma's house." He says. We are standing in front of each other. He's tall. "You didn't have to do this." I say smiling. It is so sweet of him to wash my dishes. I mean I don't usually do them unless I need something from them. "Okay, Let's go." He says as he walks out to the door. I walk back after him. He's pulling on his coat. I grab my coat as well. I pull it on as he opens the door and steps out to summon the elevator up. I won't feel bad if I got trapped again with him. I think if I got trapped again with Charlie Johns, I would love it.

A bell jingles as I push my way into the tattoo shop. A girl with light skin almost covered with a lot of tattoos and piercings appears. Betty Brandon. She works here. I don't really like her. She's wearing a too short skirt. Isn't she cold for god's sake. A black tank is resting upon her tattooed body. She has blond hair. That platinum blond. It is short. She has the side of her head shaved as well. Black lipstick is covering her lips along with her smoky eyes makeup. Black shinning heels are resting in her  feet. They cling against the floor as she walks up to us. "Hello. Coats, please?" She asks as she places her hands on Charlie's shoulders. You could say from the way he looks that he's kinda feeling weird around her. Men always loved women with too much showing skin, but, they also want there women all dressed up perfectly. Crazy, isn't it? He takes off his coat and hand it to her while his eyes are staring at her and his mouth almost drooling. I roll my eyes as I take off my coat and hand it to her. She actually eating gum. She walks back to us with empty hands. "Where is  Gilbert?" I ask. Gilbert Carols. He's the one who drew me the crow. He owns the place. He built it after his father threw him out of the house. He didn't enter college. He's older than me by three years. He never went back to his house back in los anglos. He never sees his mother or his father or even his baby brother. His mother writes to him every holiday, hoping he would visit. He knows about my father. He is kinda of my friend. I think having to talk to someone who also left there house behind is needed. "He's inside. He says as she guides us inside. We enter the room. Which he calls his home. His own world. He's sitting by the empty chair and the tattoo needle. His black hair is pulled back into a ponytail. His bread is perfectly brushed and clean. His black piercing looking eyes are closed showing how heavy his black eyelashes are. He is wearing a shine earring in both ears. He's wearing a black tank, that shows his strong muscular tattooed arms. A 90s music is playing. It is his favorite. The jazz 90s music. "Work, Gilbert!" She says which make him hold out a finger to shut her up. Gilbert has always been one of the most complicated people I ever met. He's sad and happy both in the same time. Well, when you mix these two feeling together, you get nothing. So he's probably feeling nothing. He always tells me , that life is short and I should live it. No matter what it would cost me. I think he's wise to tell me that. I think my father lived his life. He got married to the only woman he ever loved and got a daughter. Watched her grow. Or almost. But, now I got to live my life. I can't stay still because he left. I have to live.