A/N: Hey folks, after reading through this I found a few things I wasn't happy with. The drawbacks of not having a beta. Anyway, I've decided to take this down, tweak it and split it up into smaller chapters and repost it again. The rest of the chapters are ready and waiting so updates should be regular enough. As I said first time round, I've never written anything like this before, it just sort of came to me and wouldn't leave until I had spent five insomnia fuelled hours writing it. I'm more of a WIP writer, but this story was a long one shot and kinda has a special place in my heart. So I hope you like it.
Also... I've changed my Pen Name from Roxxi Dynamite to IrishPeaMia.

.

Disclaimer: Everything/everyone you recognise belongs to themselves. This is all a work of fiction, I do not claim that any of this is real or to depict the actual personality of anyone mentioned. I only own the OC's, the idea and a bag of spuds.

.

Tattoos of Memories

Chapter One: January.

.

Phil opened the closet and upon seeing the countless boxes, he sighed. He was moving into his new apartment in two days and due to work commitments, he had left all his packing til now. After spending the majority of the day packing up the kitchen, his important documents, and arranging a moving van, now was time to tackle the closet. Or as he liked to call it; The Crap Collector.

.

Over the years this closet had become the receptacle for everything and anything. Ranging from old Halloween costumes that Phil just couldn't part with, to childhood memories, his past all boxed up and stacked into one small closet in his Chicago apartment.

.

Rolling up his sleeves, Phil pulled one of the boxes down to the ground and sat cross legged before opening it up. As soon as he pulled open the top a smile appeared on his face. He briefly flicked through the contents before closing the box again, pulling out his marker pen he wrote the word 'MOVIES' in big black letters before moving onto another box.

.

Two hours later and Phil had managed to get through at least three quarters of the boxes, he was feeling quite proud of himself. He finished marking the 'Halloween' box before standing up to reach the smaller boxes on the shelf. He spotted one that was already marked 'COMICS' and with a childish excitement he reached for it, as he pulled it a shoe box slid out from on top of it and hit him in the face before tumbling to the ground. Phil rubbed his nose before turning his gaze to the floor of the closet. The shoebox had opened as it fell, scattering it's contents all over the place. Phil groaned as he sat back down on the floor to gather the pieces.

.

The first thing he lifted was a single piece of paper, unfolding it he began to read;

.

Dear Batman,

How are things back in the windy city? Any new things I should be aware of? Good things of course, keep the negative shit to yourself.

Things here are pretty boring. The first two weeks were cool, super busy which will explain the lack of communication, but now I've fallen into my routine and it gets old pretty fast. Yes, I'm going to complain already. School work sucks. It sucks ass. Big hairy ass. I've had three essays and a project already, in high school that's like six months worth at least. Why didn't anyone tell me I was actually going to have to work in college? I thought it was all gossip, parties and raging hormones. I'll never get my information from a movie again. Pretty in Pink has a lot to answer for.

On the plus side, I found a great gym nearby the campus. So I can get my workout on between essays, deadlines and coffee breaks. And... They have a ring! So all those moves you taught me and the hours you spent training this young pup will go to good use. I shall keep up with your strict regime, minus the diet, the overexerting and the drill sergeant breathing down my neck.

You never know, perhaps I'll make it to the top one day. But don't worry, I'll remember the little people who helped me along the way. I'll pass you in the street and say to my best buddy Paul Heyman, "Hey, I used to know that dude when I was a cake lovin' teenager."

But you know what? … I miss home. I miss the fun, the laughs, the adventures, I miss your face. I know it's only been three weeks but come on, I've gone from seeing you every single day to this prolonged absence. I'm beginning to forget what you look like. You're short and fat, right?

Anyway, I guess I'd better wrap this shit up now before I start getting all wussy. To sum things up. School sucks, I don't drink enough coffee and I miss your stench.

I await your response.

Peace Out Punkin Pie!

Robin xx

.

A small smile graced Phil's face as he finished reading the letter. It was a blast from a long forgotten past. He folded it back up and put it into the box it originally came from. Looking around the cluttered floor he reached for another piece of paper.

.

I bought you a cupcake. But I ate it on the way over. So, here is a drawing of a cupcake. Don't eat it all at once.

R x

.

Beside the words was what can only be described as a child's rushed doodle of a cupcake and a smiley face.

.

Phil laughed as his mind was suddenly flooded with good memories. He began picking up random pieces from the floor. Different notes from this one time in his life. All random, all weird and to anyone else, all rubbish. But to him, they were anything but. They were memories. Little mementos of a time when things were so different. When he was younger, freer and carefree. When all he had to worry about was if he had enough gas to get to the next Punk show.

.

He went through the remaining items, there were a lot of photos. He and his friends dressed up at Halloween, at concerts, photos of them just hanging out. He held one photo up in front of him. It was a photo of he and Robin. He had his arm around her neck holding her close to him, a broad grin on his face. She had one arm around his and the other around his arm, her face was beaming with a huge Cheshire smile, her tongue poking out the side. They looked so happy. Phil tried to remember when this picture was taken, he couldn't recall the exact time but was pretty sure it was at least ten years before, at a concert from the looks of the photo.

.

His fingers guided over the edge of a photograph, careful not to smudge it with his fingerprints. This one stood out from all the others. It was another photo of Robin. But unlike the others, she wasn't smiling. She wasn't pulling faces. She was sitting alone at a table. From the looks of things, it didn't seem like she knew the photo was being taken. She looked so different. Phil studied the image for a few moments. Her big blue eyes stood out immediately, drawing all attention to them. Without any make up on, and without striking a pose for the camera, Robin was stunning. Her natural beauty would take anyone's breath away.

.

Phil smiled as he remembered the way she would blush and disagree every time someone would tell her that. The woman could never take a compliment, but then again that was one of the things that made her so attractive. She truly didn't realise how beautiful she was. He began to wonder what she looked like now. Did she still have radioactive hair? Was she still proclaiming Converse sneakers to be 'the only shoe a woman needs'? Or had she conformed and gone for a more toned down natural look? Phil released a sigh as he realised he didn't know the answers to these questions, and that he probably never would.

.

Standing from the floor Phil placed all the items back in the shoe box and placed the lid on top before placing it back on the shelf. He'd relived enough of the past for now.

.

.

Two weeks passed and Phil finally returned home. Home, that still seemed like an alien word. He'd lived in this apartment for two weeks now but had only spent all of three days in it. It would take a bit of getting used to before he could think of it as his home. He'd just gotten back after a week on the road and tonight was time to relax. His best friend Colt had come over for pizza and a DVD, their usual Friday night routine. They were sitting on the sofa eating when Phil remembered the shoebox.

.

"Hey, you'll never guess what I came across in the closet when I was moving."

"Dude, if it's your porn collection... TMI." Colt replied laughing.

"Very funny. A shoebox of stuff from back in our road trip days."

"Oh man, those were the days. Just jumping in the car and heading to wherever there was a punk show."

"How times have changed." Phil replied.

"Yeah, not much time to do that now. I feel so old."

"You look it too compared to that mullet you were sporting back then. What were you thinking?"

"Hey, that was the style man. And you're one to talk, at least I got rid of mine. You've only just lost the teenage girl haircut."

"Whatever, at least I didn't look like Billy Ray Cyrus." Phil retorted.

"Dude!" Colt exclaimed. "I did not look like Billy Ray... did I?"

.

Phil let out a thunderous laugh.

.

"Go get that shoebox, I want to see it."

.

Phil retrieved the box from it's new place, another closet in his new apartment. He sat beside Colt as they began to rummage through the box of their memories.

.

"I admit it was a mullet, but I still say it was the style at the time."

"Enjoy yourself over there in denial." Phil replied.

"Now there's a face I haven't seen in a long time." Colt spoke as he held a photograph in his hand.

.

Phil tilted his head to see what his friend was referring to. Again, he was instantly drawn to the big blue eyes.

.

"Yeah, talk about a blast from the past." He said.

"She was one good looking broad. I don't know why I didn't see it back then."

"Probably because you were too busy chasing every blonde with D-Cups."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Colt laughed. "Young Colt was very shallow."

"What do you mean 'was'?"

"Hey, I resent that. I'm a mature, well rounded guy. I look for women with more than just good looks. This," he said holding up the photograph, "This is the type of woman I go for now. I wonder if she's still single."

"I doubt it man. And even if she was, what are you going to do? Call her up and say 'Hey, remember me? I know it's been like ten years but I just realised you were hot and I'm hoping you still are. Dinner?'?" Phil asked with amusement.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Colt, there are a million reasons why not. She could be living anywhere, she could be married with kids by now. We haven't seen her in ten years, she could be a completely different person now."

"Wow, ten years. That's crazy. We practically lived in each others pockets for so long, and now look at us." Colt reflected.

"Yeah, but things change, people change. That's life. You just gotta roll with it and move along."

"Phil the philosopher."

"Shut up."

.

That night after Colt left, Phil thought about the conversation the two had had. He thought about her.

.

Colt was right, it was crazy.

They had been a tight knit group, practically a family. They'd spent so long together, travelling to different punk shows, wrestling shows, anything that was in driving distance that they could afford to do. It was like their gap years.

They called it 'The Road Trip Years'. There had been five of them in total. Phil, Colt, Grace, Pete and Robin. They were inseparable, where you'd find one, you'd find them all. Two cars, the highway and a whole load of music.

They were the best years of Phil's life, he thought. And yet, where were they all now? Grace and Pete got married and had a few kids, they still lived in Chicago and Phil still saw them from time to time, and of course he was still hanging with Colt.

.

And then there was Robin.

One minute she was his sidekick, the next she was gone. Never to be heard from again. Obviously it wasn't as cut and dry as that, but that's how it felt to Phil, like she'd just upped and left them all, left him without an explanation. It had hurt. He'd never let on to the others but her leaving had hit him hard. He didn't understand why she'd just disappear without saying a word, or even telling anyone she was thinking about it. Phil felt himself get annoyed thinking about it all. He put the thoughts from his mind and closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep and forget about the whole thing.

.

Thanks for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Mia :)