INKED 8: A Tattoo Shop Reverse Harem

"What is it? What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm okay. I just really need you."

"I'm on my way," she says, clicking off the phone.

By the time my bestie arrives, I'm dressed in my comfiest pajamas, my feet warm in fluffy slippers, and my face scrubbed clean. As soon as I see her, I burst into tears, and Dawn throws her arms around me, patting my back and making the kind of soothing noises that mamas reserve for babies.

"It's okay," she says. "Oh my God, Kyla. Just tell me you're okay because if that guy did anything to hurt you, I swear they're going to find pieces of him all over town. I’ve watched CSI. I know how to dispose of a body."

"He didn't hurt me," I say. "Well, not physically. I just feel like an idiot."

Dawn draws back and places her hands on my cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe away my tears. "Take a deep breath and tell me everything."

So I do. We flop onto my squishy beige cord couch, and I share the whole mortifying story, and all the way through Dawn keeps her hand on my knee and tells me to keep going. There's no judgment in her expression, just empathy. And when I'm done, she hands me a tissue and pulls me into a huge hug.

"You're not an idiot," she says. "Not at all. You're just a hopeful and good person who judges others by your own standards. You would never treat another person like that, so you don't expect someone to do it to you. It was naïve but not stupid."

"I should never have played the game," I tell her. "It was all a terrible mistake. I was trying to be someone that I'm not and now everything is ruined. I really enjoyed the job, and I was doing well. I like everyone I work with…I mean, how often does that happen?"

Dawn shakes her head. "Like never, sweetie. My boss is a toad and most of my coworkers wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire."

"Exactly. And now I have to quit." Another tear falls from my eye, and Dawn passes me yet another tissue.

"I don't think you have to quit, honey. Those men came to find you when they thought you were in danger. They wanted to make sure you were okay. They went out of their way to keep you safe. That doesn't sound like men who want you to leave. It sounds a lot like men who care."

"Or men who feel guilty. If I wasn't an idiot for going to the club, I was for agreeing to the game in the first place."

"You weren't an idiot for that either," Dawn snaps. "You were just a girl who wanted some fun and interesting experiences. I bet none of those men are kicking themselves for enjoying sex with you. There's such a hideous double standard about sex that keeps women feeling guilty while men get to have all the fun. What's the difference between a woman's body count and a man's? Are we seriously still looking at life through an ancient patriarchal lens that holds us in a subservient position forever? A woman's vagina doesn't get any more affected by sex than a man's stupid penis, but we have to listen to all these ridiculous bros on social media spouting off about women losing their value. I'm sick of it.

“You had fun, and that's it, sweetie. Give yourself a break. You lived in the moment, and you enjoyed it. Life goes on. Your job is still there. All you need to do is hold your head up high and get on with it."

"It's not that easy," I reply, frustrated that she’s not getting it.

"Why not? Explain to me."

"Because I have feelings for them. Because they're the best men I've ever met, and I can't just go back to seeing them as fun work friends when I want more."

"You have feelings for them? Like more than one of them?"

I hang my head, rubbing my hands over my face, feeling so weary right through to my bones.

"All of them," I admit.

"You have feelings for eight men? Like, seriously?"

I nod, and Dawn's shocked face begins to expand into a grin. "They must have all really been something special. I think they've fucked the sense out of your head."

"Are you serious?" I say, raising my eyebrows and shaking my head. "You've just spouted all this stuff about women being emancipated enough to have sex without feeling guilty, and here you are suggesting it wouldn't be possible for me to have genuine feelings for more than one man at a time. I mean, Luna's done it. The other women who came to the Daily Grind were doing it. Why not me?"

Dawn rests her hand on my knee and squeezes. "I'm sorry, honey. You're right. Why the hell not you! If you have feelings for them, then maybe instead of running away, you should tell them."