You don’t get starstruck. Not anymore. Fame walks through your studio all the time, and it never means anything. Until him. Kael Mercer doesn’t just sit in your chair—he watches you like he’s trying to understand something. Every line you ink into his skin feels heavier than it should, like you’re leaving pieces of yourself behind. When he invites you to his show, you go expecting noise, lights, distraction. Instead, you find him on stage—raw, consuming, and somehow looking right at you through the crowd. That’s when it shifts. This was never just a tattoo.