Handwritten black script reading 'You kiss the noise and it tastes like rock n roll' sits beside two red lip prints on a shoulder and collarbone.

Lyric script and red lips on shoulder

Lettering · Shoulder · Mixed · Photo

A close photograph of a tattoo on the upper chest and shoulder area, showing a handwritten black script line and two red lip prints. The script uses thin, even black linework with a loose, personal hand, while the lips are filled in with flat red ink and small highlights in the centre. The image is framed tightly on the skin with a soft, warm light and a blurred background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody on the Crooked Pins tour had slept properly since Carlisle, and by the Sheffield gig the van smelled of wet amp cloth and cheap lager. Marnie sat on a flight case at the side of the stage with a roll of gaffer tape in one hand and a torch in her teeth, watching the drummer's kit creep an inch closer to the edge every time he hit the snare. She had been the sound girl for four years and had learned that the room mattered less than the noise you could make inside it.

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Halfway through the encore, a girl in a silver jacket climbed the barrier and kissed the lead singer full on the mouth, leaving a print of cherry red on his cheek that the lights turned almost black. He grinned, didn't wipe it off, and sang the next chorus straight at Marnie, who was supposed to be watching the levels. Afterwards, in the loading bay, he pressed two kisses onto the back of her hand, red on his lips and red on her knuckles. 'Proof,' he said. 'Proof of what?' she asked. 'That we were here.'

The van rattled back down the M1 with the heater rattling louder than the radio. Somewhere past Leicester, Marnie scribbled the chorus on the back of a setlist, the handwriting going loose as the road got bumpier. When she looked up, the cold window had fogged where her breath had been, and in the glass she could just make out the faint shape of her own mouth, fading slowly as the heater worked.

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