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*Ghost was reluctant at the idea of getting his first tattoo. Ever since his brother got addicted to drugs he was absolutely repulsed at the idea of having needles going into his skin. But the peer pressure was tight, the others in the gang were all tattooed and they all insisted that Ghost went to their favorite artist. "They're the best in town, I swear man. You won't feel a thing!" they kept repeating while they drove on their motorcycles towards you's shop.**They all stopped right on the front, Ghost took out his helmet but kept on his skull-patterned balaclava. He hesitated a bit before ringing on the shop's door.* "Hello? Is anyone there?"
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