ink stained finger tips. paint splattered on concrete. black coffee. ball point pens. writing letters. bad choices mixed with liquor. red eye flights. duffle bags with stencils and a change of clothes. watercolor paints.Ā
š¤š„šš„š¤
Full Name: Evren Kƶzen
Nickname(s): Ev
Age: Thirty Five
Birthday: May 13th
Hometown: Iron River, GA
Length of Time in town: Born, left, and back since February
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/Him
Orientation: Heterosexual
Occupation: Tattoo Artist
Accent: slight southern accent
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Shit happens. That was the phrase that Evren loved to use ever since he was ten. Things always had a way ofā¦ veering directly off the projected path. It was the whole mood of his life - veering off path.
His parents wanted the best for him, but it was often like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. What started out as doodles in the margins of notes became something else into his teens.
He supposed the wrong crowd something of started there. Suddenly drawings were stencils and artwork on building, buying and stealing cans from shops and where ever he could find it. He was nothing short of luck that he wasnāt picked up as a teen.
When he turned eighteen, his portfolio earned him a place at the Savannah School of Art and Design. He went there for two years before he ultimately dropped out.Ā
His art consumed him, a mask for all the things he was running from. The streets became his home - his small studio apartment and shitty job were just placeholders. He filtered through jobs, nothing fueling his high like creating.
He launched an instagram account that documented his art - running with the likes of banksy - he wanted to disrupt people, he wanted to breathe beauty and attention to the run down spots of the cities, call into microscope the habits of the mundane.Ā
It took off with a lot of success, people enthralled with teasers and photos that were abstract clues to what was next. He continued to let the art consume him, taking him to new and dangerous places. The art thrived, but the risk was catching up with him.
But, life veers. Right when Evren was coming to a pinnacle, right when he had the worldās attention, he disappeared.Ā
The disappearance was a well warranted jail sentence. Assault, breaking and entering.Ā
Shit happens. The only thing that Evren says about prison is that he learned to tattoo in there. What started as poke and stick, became a full fledged artistry. Once he was out, he enrolled in an apprenticeship where he is quickly surpassing most teachers.
š„ššššššš
2005: Graduated High School, attended Savannah School of Art & Design
2007: dropped out of art school
2008-2016: Lived in a multi-tude of places, created art, built his instagram
āDoesnāt matter if youāre a therapist or not ā you always hear some shit. Like right now,ā Knox pointed out with a wry smile. His momma used to say that any time people sat in a chair, be it for their hair or nails or even tattoos, they went into talk therapy mode.Ā āItās because youāre doing something for them; you canāt go anywhere, so they have a pair of ears right there listening to them whether they like it or not,ā his mother explained way back. He wondered if she liked being able to listen to other people complain, if it distracted her or if everyone elseās problems seemed like a cakewalk to her. If he could remember heād ask her about it later.Ā
He was pulled out of those thoughts as Evren handed over the picture. Knox looked over with a light laugh.Ā āWhat? I donāt look like a guy whoād like huskies?ā Knox asked. He rubbed a hand over his face, collecting himself. āYeah, no. Itās for my ex wife. Her nicknameās HuskĀ ācause of her eyes. Might not even give it to her, but saw it awhile ago and it was still here soā¦ā
He trailed off for a moment. The normal part of him, the not plastered part, knew better than to give Pax a gift. The not sober part of him felt like that picture already belonged to her and itād just be returning it to the place it belonged.Ā āLook, itās not my brightest choice but Iāve always been a little dimwitted.ā
ā
āMmm, tend to tune it out.ā He operated under the not my businessĀ clause, because it served him well. Shrugging, he leaned against the counter. It was weird, he thought, to be the one who was being responsible. His PO would be proud, he guessed. All things considered the man wasnāt half bad, check ins, so on. There was something if a grudging respect for one another, at least as humans, which is what Evren really cared about. Looking back to him, Evren shook his head.Ā āDidnāt mean that, I mean you donāt look like someone whoād buy art a handle of whiskey in and smelling like it,ā he said, right off the cuff. He didnāt really mince his words, at least not to point.Ā
āOh,ā Evren said. Ex-wife... that he bought art for. It didnāt take a rocket scientist to sort out the man was having feelings there for a woman who may have been gone or out of reach. Probably factored into the drinking thing too. No baby, ex-wife probably because of no baby. Add an affair in and the guy couldāve been related to him. He kept that to himself though.Ā āEh, not the dumbest Iāve met. I think if you havenāt done at least one drunken bonehead thing for a someone, you probably havenāt been in love. Iāve been there.ā He supposed he could call what he had with his own ex, love. It wasnāt, not any more. Moved on, he thought.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āApparently not.ā The male had always been an illusion in some aspects but that realization came after she heard news of him being caught and put away. Beyond that, she hadnāt seen many of the things that heād been accused of and it was why sheād been left stunned. It truly made her realize that people were capable of all kinds of things and some secrets could be well kept. But she figured the intent was to keep most people in the dark so she couldnāt be angry at him, especially with a set of secrets of her own. In the end, all that mattered was that he was out and in one piece. He could start fresh and she could only hope that heād learnt enough from his stay that he would pick a more straight and narrow path to follow. Not one that toed the line with criminality. But sheād also seen and heard enough to know how difficult it was for people starting over and how sometimes those old ties were all that was left.Ā
āYeah, just about that.ā She wasnāt procrastinating in general. Her time was filled with working and doing other things but it was also a cover to ensure she didnāt have time to figure out the shit she had been dragging on for years. The banks had stopped calling for a while and it felt nice to just forget. But there were always people like Evren who would ruin that for her.Ā āI wouldnāt say that Iām running from it. Just choosing not to deal with it.ā So technically it was the same thing.Ā āItās kind of funny coming from someone who knew he was doing bad things and decided not to face the fact that he might need to stop until he was forced to deal with it in the form of cuffs and hard time.ā Maybe he didnāt feel the same but she was trying to deflect.Ā āIf this is your way of trying to guilt me into doing it, it isnāt going to work. Iāll do it one of these days. Iām working up the nerve and since I started therapy, iām also starting to slowly think about it more in a way that doesnāt make me want to throw up. I just need more time.ā With a shrug, she peered around and then back at him.Ā āSounds like one hell of a home to have.ā
ā
āThatās exactly why I am saying these things, who knows better than me how absolutely fucked you get when you try running from shit forever?ā In the world of smackdowns, his prison sentence was like being curb stomped by the UFC Anderson Silva, and he was missing whole ass pieces from himself because of it.Ā āGranted, mine was to the extreme, but Iāve really been someone who plays it safe or does things half-assed,ā he said with a shake of his head. See it through to the end, he did, on everything. That made him blink for a moment, he wasnāt really someone who thought much about certain things, because they threatened to split him open like a coconut on a rock, but now, it ghosted his mind.
āIām not trying to guilt you, maybe push you. Confrontation in the right way is healthy, not bad.ā He shrugged. He sat and he listened at group, he was in a few different group therapies, all court ordered, but he didnāt hate them as much as people would think. He just didnāt like that they were forced on him by a court a law. Heād done his work in prison, thinking and coming to grips with what he did and what he needed. There wasnāt much else to do there aside from sit ups, think, and if he was lucky, heād get to read or go outside.Ā āProud that youāre in therapy. It rattles things around in there. Iām in like three different substance groups, theyāre not so bad. Coffee is weak, but the cookies arenāt bad.ā
āI think mom hates me, too.ā They hadnāt dived into the nuances of their relationship when he went to prison, how she isolated herself further and offered nothing in the wake of losing Fallon and her marriage. While he could raise a glass, Alara only managed a frown. It was the tip of that iceberg, a small forlorn gesture that could crack into an endless cavern below; she didnāt want to go there, not tonight. Visiting those wounds was a cruel form of torture, āShe hates me less since Willa came along.ā
Was it jealousy, or envy? Alara still hadnāt been able untangle the emotions she had surrounding their mom, but for the time being she was content with pushing it aside to make room for Willa. āThings would be different if dad was here.ā That had always been her conclusion, but neither of them could bring him back. āHey, therapy is a good thing. Itās hard, but itās saved a lot for me.ā Her life being one of them. She breathed out and smiled, āIām just glad youāre here.ā
Missing him had become a part of who she was and slowly, as each week went by, the memory of that pain got easier. āI knowā¦ I donāt want to pass on my anxieties to her, but sheās ours. I want us to do a good job. I want her mom to be happy that we got her.ā There was an added pressure she put on herself that Aly couldnāt quite shake, but she hoped it would ease once things got back to normal. āYouāre the best, you know that?ā Groom. God, she got butterflies from that even after all this time. Her husband, soon-to-be once more, their niece. A family. āHmm,ā This reminded her. āWould you maybe want to give me away, again?ā Alara asked quietly.
ā
āGood, at least she likes one of us. The one who deserves it the most, the kid,ā Evren said with a smile. If his mother only had a certain amount of love to give, heād give his share for Willa over and over again. Kid had been through a lot, he admired the resiliency of the toddler, but then, toddlers were like that. Big emotions that they got over pretty quick. At the mention of their father, he nodded. That was a subject he didnāt joke about, there was pain there when it came to it. Heād done a lot of grieving in prison, very privately.Ā āIt would be.ā He could say that if his father hadnāt have died, he wouldnāt have ended up in the clink. Maybe he wouldnāt have jetted everywhere if he wasnāt sick. Evren couldnāt stand to watch him get weaker and weaker, so art had been the escape for that too.
āThatās excellent for you, and Colt, and anyone else it who decides they want it. Itās different when the court tells you to go to it, because they deem it necessary.ā Evren never wanted things forced on him, he rebelled violently from that, as was indicated by his jail sentence. Heād always been someone who needed complete and total freedom, and any sort of complication to that made him feel like he was on fire and heād flee.Ā
āYou are doing a good job,ā Evren said. He knew that his sister would be a far superior mother than pretty much anyone else out there. Sheād been born ready to be a mother, had always been very nurturing. He never doubted sheād be a good mother, even if he thought she was prone to smothering the shit out of a kid.Ā āI think her mom knew what she was doing, Colt, for all his misgivings and mistakes, is a good man. People confuse perfection with goodness, and I donāt know why because every story of a good man most often comes from very flawed background,ā he said with a shake of his head.Ā
āAgain?āĀ Evren whined and rolled his eyes, jokes coming back to his face.Ā āYes, absolutely. Though this time I know that giving you away doesnāt mean you immediately go away,ā he laughed out loud and flicked a napkin at her.
āAck, thatās even worse,ā Knox laughed as the tattoo artist humored his joke. At least, he hoped this was just a continuation of the joke because Potpourri? Might as well have chosen the name Pothead. Knox didnāt have to wonder for too long as the guy revealed his real name. Evren was much better than Potpourri or Excalibur.Ā
āNow I donāt feel like a complete dick. Iām Knox,ā he said, eyes still squinting at the stupid venmo username on the plaque. He looked away, distracted, when Evren held out a bottle of water instead of the picture. Knox frowned at it and the explanation that came with it. He probably had a little too much over the past couple of days, but he could drive. Before Knox even thought about protesting he thought about the rest of Evrenās reasoning and slowly lowered himself onto the waiting areaās couch. He really couldnāt afford his insurance getting hit for an accident right now, or the legal fees. āThanks,ā Knox muttered and cracked open the cap,Ā āYou probably hear shit like this all the time, but I wasnāt always a day-drinker, or really any kind of drinker. Just kind of happened after my kid died ā can I have that picture now? āWanna see it up close.ā
ā
If anyone had reached out a hand to help him, he wouldnāt have reached back to grasp it. That was the truth of Evrenās situation. He was intimate with the suffering that he felt, most of it was his own design. Convinced that his best work came from places dark and deep within him, he was an artist, if he wasnāt going to rip out the pieces he felt strongly about himself and examine them, then who would? Instead, Evren was pushed back into the pit, and he stayed there, handcuffs, solitary, and everything else. Those were the memories he didnāt get to shake.Ā āThis isnāt AA, dude, Iām not a therapist. I donāt hear that shit at all,ā Evren said with a cracked smile.Ā āWell, for some this probably is some sort of therapy, Iāve seen some pretty dead in the eyes girls come in here.āĀ
Evren shrugged. They were all just trying to make it through life the best they could.Ā āWe all choose to cope with the shitty aspects of our life in different ways.ā He had no right to judge, so he didnāt. He just didnāt want the guy to walk out the parlorās door and then something happen that he couldnāt take back, he knew that feeling. He handed over the picture to him.Ā āWhoās it for? You donāt strike me for the... type of guy whoād make this choice... in this sorta condition.ā And probably not smelling like a gym sock thatās been doused in whiskey.Ā
"I figured customs on skin was a given." Camryn laughed, nodding as she admired the wall of what she assumed was a wall of tattoo designs behind the counter. "Or maybe it's just because I'm a firm believer that if you're going to get a tattoo, might as well make it something original." Camryn wasn't against tattoos, but she definitely hadn't found something that she liked enough yet to want to get it done. She knew getting something to honor her family was something that was important to her, but so far she'd yet to think of anything creative enough to actually get one. "I actually have a few tattoo related questions whenever you're free. No rush; I know you're probably booked all day." she spoke, offering him a small smile.
Her attention returned to the art on the wall, and as she heard him mention something about an email, she turned her eyes to look at him. "I take it that means none of these aren't yours then?" She asked, letting herself listen as he mentioned that if she wanted something that struck his fancy than maybe he could make it happen. A small humorous smile formed on her face and she nodded, understanding what it was like to only agree to something when it was something you liked. As an artist into photography herself, she could understand that completely. "What is your specialties?" she asked. "Maybe that will help me spark an idea of something that will interest you."
"Skin is the most unique canvas. No two of our bodies are the same. It seems like a weird insult to put the same feather into birds tattoo on it as every other drunk college girl from a Georgia sorority gets," Evren said, in agreement. He nodded, "Ask away. I'm just an apprentice here, so I am not booked up. But I probably know more about tattooing skin than anyone." He did it with primitive tools and primitive care in the pen, and when he could, he read about it. Magazines, journals, books, whatever he could get his hands on.
At her next question, he shook his head. "My art does not go on walls like this," he said with a solemn nod. It was the one rule he would keep. His art could on the gram, it could go in a book, but it would never go on a wall. "I work in fine line, black and white. I come from the world of stick and pokes, so I tend to keep a lot of stippling in my designs. I am an apprentice, but my art is better than... well, most others. I've been doing art since I was a boy, I started with ink." Then moved to spray paint, and sculptures, and then became a phenom, but he kept that to himself. That world was gone.
Ā Ā "You joke, but they do a version of Frozen at Steeldriver and weāre pretty good at keeping up.ā That was before Willa came along, these days she assumed they would ace every step. She laughed, "Thereās only so many times we can dance to the same song before both of us go insane.ā It made her wonder what song it would be next ā They had missed the Baby Shark phase, which was a blessing, but undoubtedly there would be something new around the corner. Alara rolled her eyes, āI just want her to have a good diet thatās all. Mom and dad would have killed the babysitter if she made us poor manās macaroni.ā
They almost did kill the neighbour that tried to give them pork sausages one evening, āButāā Aly got up from the island and held her hands up, shrugging. āI wonāt kill you this one time. Youāre doing us a favour.ā Like their parents, Aly wanted her children to grow up eating a varied diet. Colt too had been raised the same way. āI got this de-tangling spray for her hair and a special comb, Colt almost died when he saw the price of it.ā Grimacing, she walked over to the window and looked out to the house. Biting down on her lower lip, she wondered if him and Colt had been talking. It wasnāt a bad thing, but Aly would tell him what Colt already knew, āIām never gonnaā get over leaving my kids. We already lost too many, so thatās not going to happenāā She didnāt expect him to understand, āBut I know I have to leave her. Iām just not gonnaā do that with someone we donāt know, or trust.ā Alara shrugged again, āWe trust you.ā
ā
āWell, Dadās not here and Mom hates me, so,ā Evren raised a fake glass to his sister. The dynamic of their family wasnāt lost on him. His fatherās death was hard on him, he was always the parent that actually liked and stood up for Evren, his death was the death of his biggest supporter and biggest ally in his life. It was an excuse, but Evren started to loose grip on reality of his life and then it went all went to hell. Or maybe it just all caught up with him.Ā āWhatās the line from Lion King? When they turn your back on you, you turn you back on them? Iām doing that,ā Evren snickered, he thought his joke was funny.
As he watched his sisterās face change, he knew the thoughts going on her head. Some times, she really believed that everyone was conspiring against her, that everyone talked behind her back about her. The truth was that his sister was easy to read, which wasnāt a bad thing, she just wore everything on her sleeve and her particular brand of helicopter parenting came from a place of loss, so while he understood it ā better than she knew ā he had a different way of looking at it.Ā āI get to do the, uh, court ordered therapy because the assault means I have anger issues,ā Evren smiled at that. He loved to be told who he was by his superiors in court.Ā āThe thing that I can personally attest to, is the moment you start to let yourĀ issues affect your kid, you start to mess with them.ā He paused, clearing his throat, because their mother was a sore subject for him. āMess with them in other ways, like telling them up is down and down is up.ā He waved a hand.Ā āAlso, I can read you like a book, bacı,ā Evren chuckled, he used the rural form for older sister as a joke between them, when she got all maternal.
His mind drifted back to his family. There was no point on attempting to repair the relationship with his mother. What she knew was the tip of the iceberg. As soon as the rest of it came out, sheād surely continue to fully disown him. Then tell their relatives in Turkey to do the same. So far, they didnāt know out there. Heād seen them before he was arrested, a weird serendipity.Ā āSo, go have fun dancing with your groom and leave me and the small human to do what we do. Model what having a healthy relationship and marriage looks like for her. Model being a good parent.āĀ Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āI bet you could and many other people.ā She had a few piercers of her own and only went to places where people were adequately trained and had to hold up standard hygienic guidelines.Ā āYou would actually look good with a nose ring.ā Now that he was out and no one could use it against him in a fight, it probably could do it without having to worry and she was curious if he would. Her eyes rolled and she placed a hand on her heart as his words barely made contact because she knew that he was joking and this banter was what theyād had for many years.Ā āYour words hurt me. How will I possibly go on with you thinking that Iām lame and not as cool as you. Iāll let you think that. Iāve got to build up your fragile ego, I know prison kept you humbled and is meant to tear you down.ā Looking at his sandwich, she flipped it over to look at the condiments before taking a bite.Ā āNot sure if youāre cool but it probably puts you higher on the eligible bachelors in this town. People love a bad boy thatās covered in ink though bad boy isnāt something Iād ever describe you as.ā
Instantly she regretted having said anything about the home that belonged to her parents which she hadnāt set foot into apart to toss a few things after the funeral and then sheād all but thrown away the key.Ā āItās been a while.ā A few years and she was doing everything possible to forget how long it had been and just what she needed to do with that house.Ā āAt this point Iād probably be happy if it did because it meant that I didnāt have to do it.ā It was a combination of fear and laziness when it came to dragging her feet. Fear of her emotions but also being overwhelmed by the sheer project of it.Ā āI agree that thereās zero chance of us getting naked but you didnāt have to be so quick about it. Youāre really hitting a girl where it hurts. First my personality and then my body.ā She laughed and rolled her eyes.Ā āI wasnāt going to ask you for the house cause youād make me do it. Iād ask someone who isnāt reliable.ā
ā
āYou didnāt need to know or be part of the things I was doing, which is why you donāt know that aspect of me.ā Heād gotten a little more serious about being bad. Most of what he did was done isolated from his family, and even more so from his little sisterās friends. His level of so-called badness was lesser than most people would call bad, but definitely more degenerate than the average bear. His mind drifted back to it. A flight into a European country, spend a week there, plan and execute a big piece of street art, then he was in Ibiza for a celebration for a week, fly back the States, set up an interactive art gallery. The whole time it was racking in donations and high level rich people wanted to buy some bootleg fucking art. The high level of chaos and degeneracy that came with breaking the rules ā and ultimately his demise.Ā
He looked at her for a long moment.Ā āSo youāre going to procrastinate it?ā He nodded, glancing to her, he smiled, ever the asshole,Ā āDidnāt know you were such a pansy ass.ā He shrugged.Ā āI really am badder than you.ā Picking up a piece of ice from his empty glass of water, he flicked it at her, it bouncing off her collarbone. The smile went away and he then shrugged. He tended to bounce like a ping pong ball between jokes and seriousness, because he could stand being either for too long.Ā āTurns out, running from the shit you donāt want to confront is more dangerous than facing it. Thereās no valor in avoidance. Thereās no ignorance, or sympathy, in it either.ā He paused, smiling,Ā āSo, I am going to have to collect your bad bitch badge until you work your shit out.ā Then, a change of the subject.Ā āMy little shop apartment has a terrace. It overlooks the horses. Itās quite nice. No art on the wall, but I canāt stand art hanging on a wall so.ā
Ā Ā Ā āI know and I am, future husband included.ā She paused, letting the feeling sink back in again.Ā āDoes it feel weird to know that youāll be the only Kƶzen to carry Dadās name?ā Alara asked, once again thinking about that.Ā āI canāt decide if I should double barrel mine or not.ā When they got married the first time Aly had never thought about it, but now it was something constantly in the back of her mind. She sighed,Ā āI know. Thank you. Everything we need is done so the rest can wait, I need a break.ā The woman laughed and sat back, picking up her glass of water, head shaking.Ā āYou know she runs outside in the morning to try and wave to you? Could barely get her snow boots on fast enough the other day, she gets so excited when youāre around.ā Itās another reason she liked having him there, not just for herself, but for Willa too.Ā āShe adores you, especially when the markers come out.ā Her mouth lifted back into a smile and Alara hopped off the stool, moving to run her finger along one of the window edges.Ā āI donāt know what night yet, I need to talk to Colt. He wanted to go dancing, like, two months ago but with everything going on we just never got around to it.ā Sighing, she wondered who she could speak to about this. Liv, maybe. Her cousin, too.Ā āJust want to do something for him, you know? I hate leaving her, but we need some quality time together.āĀ
ā
āOh, is the dancing to Frozen 2 getting old for you two?ā Evren said with a joke.Ā āOlaf is not good enough for a toddler and family dance party? I see how it is,ā he snorted a laugh at the picture. Heād seen Colt dance before. The man was a force to be reckoned with on a hardwood floor but when it came to anything other than country dancing? He was goofy, big and goofy.Ā āBut good, get out. Quit worrying so much about the kid, me and her will hang out, I will teach her the fine art of making poor manās macaroni and cheese, as well as all sorts of other meals that would give you an anxiety attack, and otherwise weāll just be buddies until bath time when she wants to yell at me for washing her hair.ā That was the pain point these days, he heard it from Colt and Willa bitched all the time about it, but Evren wasnāt the parent so he tended to not give a damn.Ā
āI mean this as tenderly as I can, but you gotta get over it. Leaving her, I mean. Sheās three, yes, but sheās not going to be three forever. She needs to treated like sheās a normal kid, a normal daughter. Sheāll be fine,ā Evren nodded. Kids rebounded quickly. Quicker than a lot of adults did. He wondered when they got so messed up that the rebound wasnāt as quick.Ā āPlus, you guys want to send her to a Montessori, so sheāll have to get used to other people without you both. She needs to know she can be independent and have a safety net... not a helicopter.ā He gently poked her, trying to not be mean but sometimes his sister needed a little nudge, as sometimes he needed a little empathy.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āYouād look cute with a little earring that is asking to get infected.ā She was as sarcastic as he was given that she was a nurse and had seen a little too many infected piercings due to crappy piercing guns. There were some instances where it happened with a needle but little bit less than those other instruments that tore rather than pierced. Needless to say they were both on the same page with not going forward with a Claireās piercing.Ā āI refuse to believe you were ever cooler than I was and I donāt think that Iām lameā¦ Just busy.ā But she was lame and she knew it.Ā āHow do you even not get lame at this point? Seems like you have to be partying or getting in trouble which are both things we canāt afford to be doing.ā Her for her own mental health and him for his freedom. Happily taking the cookies, she sat down and placed them on her thighs before she tore one apart and took a bite.Ā āYouāre kidding but itās a little bit of an issue at this point.ā Her parentās home had stayed the same, full of crap that she hadnāt dared gone through, and her own home was a little chaotic from not having done a deep clean in years or getting rid of things.Ā āDid prison make you tidy and organized cause you can bring that energy at my place.ā Nodding her head as she chewed her cookie.Ā āI can come this week. Are you gonna cook for me? Teach me one of those weird prison recipes people do with commissary food.āĀ Ā Ā Ā
ā
āYou want me in an earring, I can do that right here and it wonāt cause the whole ear to fall off,ā Evren said. He got to hear Kip talk shit about piercings all day long. The truth of the matter was that good tattoo parlors and good artists and good piercers, paired with the right aftercare, means that things like infections and shitty tattoos donāt happen. The bad tattoos happened from inexperienced artists with subpar machinery. It was two distinct skills: tattooing and art, and most people didnāt see it.Ā āIāve always been cooler than you, since the beginning of time. The fact you are even thinking you were even half as a cool as me shows how lame, and frankly. delusional you are,ā Evren said with a joke, and then pushed half his sandwich toward her. He was over the whole bread and chewing thing.Ā āWell, I am forever cool because I have an arrest record and I work in a tattoo shop.ā His Tinder would uphold that... well, at the least the tattoo part. He didnāt really advertise the arrest record. He just pretended to be really hipster and it worked out fine.Ā
He glanced up, the jokes had something of settled. Evren wasnāt his sister, he never really got the whole tact thing.Ā āHave you still not emptied it out? Hasnāt it been... like a while?ā Time was a funny thing. It had to have been years at this point, he was sure of it.Ā āYou keep it like it is, and the hoarder house will go up in flames or be overtaken by a family of cats, and honestly, the cats is worse.ā At the mention of him cooking, he snorted.Ā āI only cook for women I am trying to impress, and since there is a zero chance of either of getting naked, youāre bringing takeout, because if youāre smart, you will bribe me to help you with your hoarder house before it combusts or is condemned by the city.ā
Inserting his credit card, Camryn took a step towards the wall with the art work and glanced around. She had to admit - not that she'd doubted it at all - there was some true talent that went into this art work. "Are the paintings here painted by you guys that do tattoos also?" she was intrigued by the art that was in front of her, all the colors blending well together, all the techniques, brushstrokes and work put into it making the piece more beautiful the longer she looked at it. "And do you guys - or I guess anyone - do custom pieces too?" There was a wall in the house she shared with her wife Sutton that was begging for some artwork like this, and Camryn was eager to learn more about it. "I want to buy this one." she spoke, pointing to one that was a little more abstract, but happened to contain all of the colors that the Michaels' family used in their house, in some form. "And maybe I can talk to you about a commissioned piece too?"
Evren nodded, "Yes, all this work is done by someone who tattoos here." Except him. There was something that grated deeply within him about it, not that he'd ever really say it to anyone. The idea that someone could purchase and place the art they did, coveted, for limited house guests to see and admire and then further use as some sort of status symbol or decoration... he wasn't sure. He didn't like it. It was boring and the fundamentals of art are what he hated most about art. "Any of us do customs on skin... as for something print or on the canvas, I suppose the others might. If you like a style of one of them, I can get you their email and you can email them about it."
When she selected the piece, he moved it pluck it off the wall, and then when to ring it in for her as well. "I am... not actually sure if I will be offering commissions. That's never been how I've worked before. It depends on maybe what you're looking for? If your vision is interesting to me, I might, but otherwise I can direct you to other artists I know could get the piece done more closely to what you want."
āIf I wasnāt comfortable, I would do something about it. Youāve got enough to worry about without adding me to your list. You, little sister, need to focus on making sure you are good, and not catering to everyone else around here. Husband included,ā Evren said with a wave of his hand. The way he saw it, they were all adults here. There was a difference between caring about someone and bending over backward to care for them and thus strip them any independence or responsibility.Ā āThis inside and the colors are what makes it nice, Alara, do not cut yourself short,ā he said, full naming her, ending with a joking tskĀ and a light roll of his eyes to play with her a slight amount.Ā āI have evenings off and all I do is color, so really, me and her are more suited for company than youād think. Weāre homies, anyway, me and her.ā Evren said. Most of his tattoos were black and white, so armed with a set of washable markers, Willa tended to color in his tattoo while he laid there.Ā āThatās my way of saying yes. What night? Dare I ask what youāre doing?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āLike a coffee shop or the mall?ā She asked with a furrowed brow because she isnāt sure whatās so wrong with their work place but maybe it was getting old at this point. Nodding her head, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to come up with other ideas.Ā āIt isnāt cleaned right now if you must know but it would give me the determination to do a power clean. Just let me know whenever youāre coming over so I do have time to tidy up. If you donāt, youāre going to be waiting on the front porch until its livable.ā She smiled at him.Ā āMaybe I can come see your new place. Aly mentioned that they made a little spot for you.ā
ā
āOh, yeah, letās go to the mall. We can stop in Claireās and get our ears pierced together,ā Evren said with a snicker. He had a low opinion of mall piercers. He was the proud giver and receiver of many a homemade piercing and they all looked like shit and they all were better than a mall piercing gun.Ā āYou know, we used to be cool, then I went to prison, got immensely cooler than you, and somehow weāre both lame? We cannot accept this.ā He pushed a napkin with two cookies in it over to her. He had Subway for lunch, the cookies he got for her.Ā āListen, if youāve got a hoarder hovel in there, and you donāt let me in to see it, I am revoking the friends card. I wanna see your hoarder hovel and mock you mercilessly.ā At the mention of his own little place, Evren nodded.Ā āWhen you have a midday off midweek, you should pop over. Itās nice, itās better than like 96-percent of the places I have lived before.ā
Camryn hadn't expected to hear that the art on the wall was for sale. Maybe it was because she didn't come in here often enough to know that the artwork was for sale. In fact the only reason she was here now was because her brother had come into town and had insisted he needed to get a tattoo before he left. Maybe it was all the talk of the parlor or maybe it was simply the fact that her brother was known to act on a whim, however, here she was standing in the middle of the parlor, unable to take her eyes off the artwork in the studio. "While my brother here thinks he can just talk his way out of a bill, I'm actually really intrigued by the thought of knowing you can buy this stuff? Were you being serious or were you just talking to get him to stop trying to finagle his way into not paying?" Camryn was sure she'd been in here more times than she could count and she felt like she had learned something new every time she was in here.
Some was, and some wasn't. The tacky flash art wasn't for sale, but the nice prints ā which weren't prints, they were the originals that several artists here did with ink and/or watercolor. People liked to think that tattoo artists were more about the tattoo than the art, but it started with art first. Custom designs were the most fun. "Well, he's gonna pay, or I am repossess the art," Evren said with a shrug, leaving it up to them to think if it was a joke or not. "We're starving artists around here," he said and tapped the Square, waiting for his credit card to be inserted. "Not the flash art, but the work in frames, on that wall," Evren pointed to where the single pieces of ink and watercolors were posted up in tiny squares, with tags on them, were hanging. "Those are for sale." Glancing back to her brother, Evren said with a smile. "So, credit card or should I get the flay knife and take back what we did?"
The nameĀ āSilverā distracted Knox for a moment. He looked over with a little snort. His eyes drifted over the other stations for a Kat Von D lookalike and came up short.Ā āThatās realā¦unique,ā he muttered, eyes rolling at his phone screen.Ā
Fifty wasnāt too bad for a print that was big enough to get framed if he ever felt fancy.Ā Clumsily he managed type in the passcode. Drunk Knox was, farsighted he was not, but nearsighted seemed to be a possibility. The username was a little blurry and the random symbols, at least they looked like symbols, were bleeding together. āYou mind reading that out loud?ā he asked, then got a better look at the tattoo artist.Ā āYou look familiar, but I donāt want to ask your name and have you tell me itās Excalibur or some shit.ā
ā
āItāsĀ Potpourri, actually,ā Evren deadpanned as he wrapped up the art. As the guy asked him to read it aloud, it became apparent to Evren that heād been on a bender for a minute. Usually only white college chics asked him that. He knew the type of bender, too, heād been known for them as well. So, now he at a crossroad with his morals. Usually Evren was a live and let live guy. However, this guy couldnāt even read the very easy venmo plaque, so driving was like a thing that probably shouldnāt happen.Ā āReal talk, itās Evren.ā He kept the picture under his arm and bent down to fish out a bottle of water.Ā āTell you what, why donāt you have some of this, and take a seat for a minute. I get youāre probably a professional driver in this condition, but half of the soccer momās on the streets at this hour are glued to their fucking cell phones, so youāre playing a losing game. Might as well wait like thirty minutes, have some water, and avoid all the Karens.ā
