Imagine Johnny having a body of his own and he drags you along to commemorate his second chance at life.
“A tattoo? Really?”
“Genius idea, I know.”
The revived rockstar walked ahead of you in stride, head held high and with a flashy grin that matched the shine of his new sunglasses. “I’m a changed man now, V. How many second chances in life do you get?”
The man had a point and you could not help but shrug in agreement. “Evidently with our track record, we’re two for two.”
You two weren’t sure how it was possible. But apparently your friends couldn’t accept either of you dying as your only fate. They stole a body from one of the city morgues that eerily shared Johnny’s likeness. Thanks to Viktor’s exceptional expertise in both the medical and cybergenetic engineering fields, it was cakewalk for him to calibrate the vessel for the formerly deceased rockstar’s engram. Matching his old body to the T (minus the tattoos), it was practically art (as Viktor stated proudly). To add the icing to the cake, the transfer allowed your own body to recover- giving you back your life.
Like you, Johnny couldn’t believe it in the beginning. He actually had to slap you a couple of times to see if the pain would reflect back to him like so in the past. Much to his satisfaction and your annoyance, the slaps were enough to convince him that everything was indeed real. That you two lived and were able to take your lives back into your own hands without fear of one or the other dying for each other. Now alive again and a free man, the first thing that Johnny wanted to do was ink up his new skin.
“I need a reminder to make sure I don’t waste it.”
“Okay, I get that. But why did you bring me with you? You’re a big guy who had plenty of tats before, coulda done this on your own.”
“Because every masterpiece needs inspiration.”
He opens the door for you, motioning you to enter first. Curious to see what he means by “inspiration”, you followed his cue and walked inside the parlor. There was something about it that was oddly familiar...
“Hey. Welcome back,” a tatted man greeted you. “Here for another?”
Johnny raises his arm, stepping forward. “Nah. This one is for me, man.”
“Sounds good,” nodded the artist. “What do you want?”
Suddenly, you felt a strong hand gently grasp your forearm. It was Johnny, eyeing you with a grin for a brief moment before turning your arm towards the artist. He displayed the ink he had done on your skin back during one of his hijackings on your body. The ink heart shaped around the letterings-
Johnny + V.
“A tat that matches this one here.”
The artist laughs with a ha! “You must be the boyfriend: Johnny. Cute. Come take a seat and I’ll get ya stenciled up.”
Although unable to ignore the fact that the artist called Johnny your romantic partner AND the fact that Johnny didn’t correct them, your mind reeled around one question.
Why that tattoo?
From what you remembered when he lived inside your head, the man had impressive ink that fit his rebellious persona. This tattoo, the one that he gave you when he took over, was a prank. A jab meant to spite and embarrass you.
Johnny was seated, his arm laid out for the artist. As the latter was busy prepping him, the former rockstar tilted his head your way as if gauging your next reaction.
“Got something to say then say it. I know you want to.”
“Well, yeah. Why?”
“Why that tattoo? Told you already. Every masterpiece needs inspiration. You’re mine.”
Your heart skipped for a moment. “It’s hardly what you call a work of art. No offense.”
“None taken,” the rockstar shrugs, a lazy smile on his face. “It’s a symbol of my change, my growth, my rebirth. All of these would never have happened if you didn’t steal my biochip. You and I never would have ever met and I would have never been alive again.
You needed me just as much as I needed you. This tattoo means that even though we’re apart now, we’re still together. Cause I still fuckin’ need you, V. In this new life, I need you in it.”
The entire time he said this, Johnny was calm, not unlike his usual passion-filled outbursts of self-righteousness. Nothing like his tangents about the corrupted system that runs the shitty society of the world. Every word that fell from his lips are fluid like the calming rhythm of the guitar riff you both heard together several weeks back- all heart and all him.
“But hey,” he calls out to you softly, pulling you out of your reverie. His dark eyes turn serious and are without a hint of his usual smug arrogance. “If you don’t want me to get this, say the word. We’ll leave and forget this ever happened. I won’t give shit about it.”
You were stunned. Johnny was practically asking you if you were okay with this. If you were okay with him engraving your names on his skin like he did with yours. Only this tattoo wouldn’t be a prank or as a means to get back at you for all of the tension and grief between you two. This tattoo would be made out of respect, as a memento to your partnership and bond, a reminder of how far you two have gone together to get where you are now- a symbol of what you meant to him.
It became clear then what you needed to do. As soon as the tattoo artist came back, you took your place next to Johnny in the other recliner and pointed at the stencil.
“Can you add some color to the heart? Make the names stand out?” The artists nods at each request, then you added, bringing your own arm forward atop the rest, “Would it be possible to do the same to mine too?”
At your words, although you didn’t need to see it to know, Johnny was smiling and relaxed his arm, opening his hand for you to take. You do, ready to have this new life. Together.
Johnny + V
