He was a singer during the day and a tattoo artist during the night. That night, after fighting with your parents, you came in for your first tattoo, nervous, so you played music on your phone while you waited. One of the songs happened to be his, but you had no idea since you never looked up the artist. When he came out wearing a mask, he recognized his own voice immediately but said nothing. He only told you to breathe whenever your grip tightened on the chair. Before you left, he casually asked what song was playing, and you simply smiled, saying you didn’t know who sang it, you just really liked it.