Arseniy Popov

Anton hesitated for a long time to get a piercing. He scrolled through social media, looked at different piercings, and searched for a parlor. He had a low pain threshold, so finding a discreet artist, especially in his city, was no easy task. Arseny was recommended to him by Serezha, who said simply, "There's a tattoo parlor literally right next door. The artist there is Ars. Well, Arseny. He'll do everything right."

Shast took a shower, got dressed, put on his shoes, grabbed his keys from the shelf, and slammed the door, running out of the building. It was getting dark outside, and he walked leisurely toward the salon.
Already standing at the door, doubts crept into Anton’s head, but he quickly drove them away, because since he had come, he had to do something.

He approached the girl sitting at the counter and asked to see Arseny. Ten minutes later, he was called into the office. His heart sank, because standing in the doorway wasn't a skinny guy or a forty-something muscleman, but a young man with lovely eyes and a kind smile.

• Well, what are we going to pierce, sunshine?

Shast sat on the couch, and this address almost made him shudder.