My arm stung like mad, but I wasn’t going to show that in front of the others, not one of them had so much as winced. I walked back out to the front of the tattoo parlour. Sophie handed me a pamphlet entitled ‘Proper care for your tattoo’.

“Did it hurt?” She asked.

“Not at all, you’ll be fine.”

“Liar, I can always tell when you’re lying.”

“Ok so it hurts, what difference does it make. You’re still going to get it done.”

“Who’s the last one then?” the Tattooist asked, he didn’t look too happy having to do the same tattoo 12 times, but he was being paid enough that he’d still do good work. Sophie marched confidently to the back of the parlour, answering his question.

I wanted to run forward and stop her getting the tattoo but I didn’t, I don’t think I’ve ever regretted something so much in my life. At that point it wasn’t too late to stop the agreement but Sophie was the 12th the get the tattoo. So when she stood up and smiled at me and I hadn’t moved, it was too late.