Taran bit into the last slice of garlic bread and called over a waitress to come and collect another empty basket. The last thing he wanted was for Sutton was to mention how much carbs he inhaled in a single sitting. He hoped that she wouldnât find out that heâd come twenty minutes early just to gorge on the bread. After he finished, Taran wiped up all the crumbs and no one would be the wiser. He sent another text to Sutton before gulping down a glass of wine, swirling the alcohol in his cup.
â well ,  sir .  i donât think iâm being  unreasonable  when iâm saying that the book is on the shelf  right behind you  when iâm behind the counter ,  â  he snarks back .  today had been a good day ,  and someone  just had to spoil that for him â  right when the dayâs about to end too .  he wishes mercy were here .  he didnât know if sheâd be better at handling annoying customers  but heâs sure it would be better for everyone involved if it wasnât him handling these situations .   â so if youâd like a book ,  i would like to kindly  ask you to bring the book here ,  unless itâs a book that you couldnât find ,  which isnât the case .  â   heâs gonna need a nice cold shower after this .
Taran stared at him in shock. It was hard to hide the amusement on his face, but he enjoyed having a punching bag to talk down on. Having someone to let up his pent-up frustrations on was a simple comfort for him. God help the unsuspecting victim on the receiving end. âNolan, is it?â Taran asked, glaring at his nametag. A smile ever so slightly crept up on his face. âYou should really get that for me, donât you think?â His tone was smug as ever, but hey, isnât the customer always right?
âI think I can manage that I have Sugar Weâre Going Down on my phone.â She said playfully. Ava watched as he messed with his facial hair. She didnât plan on cutting it all off just a slight trim to make it look a little more neat, but she could tell he was hesitant. Having someone new with a sharp object near your face would make anyone hesitant.
âOkay, as long as youâre sure.â She said with a slight shrug. This was going to be a free cut so she didnât mind it either way but she wanted to make sure. âThat sounds like a good plan. I have the keys to lock up so we can head out if youâre ready.â
âIâve grown to like it," he mused to himself, paying a little too much attention to his reflection in the mirror. God knows how long it took him to get it to this length. âAnd, if weâre being honest, half the people in this town would forget who I was without this beard.â
Standing up from his seat, Taran made a show of holding the door open for her. âAny coffee places nearby?â He asked as he glanced around the street trying to spot somewhere to go. âPreferably, one where I wouldnât have to hear anyone talk about the screenplay theyâre working on.â
Taran approached the front and began tapping his fingers on the counter impatiently. Although he would never admit it, some twisted part of him relished talking down on employees when he would have a particularly harsh day. A weird form of projection, some would argue. âExcuse me, Iâve been waiting for a book I ordered for about ten minutes now,â he snapped at the employee behind the register. âI donât think Iâm being unreasonable when I say that this service is appalling.âÂ
Avaâs head turned once the door opened and smiled at Taran, she honestly didnât think he was going to come since he didnât respond to her text. It was admittedly a weird message to send but she was so bored she was willing to do a couple comp cuts.
âA dumpster diving possum seems pretty harsh doesnât it?â She asked as she walked over to the chair he was sitting in and looked at him in the mirror. She did better with figuring out what she wanted to do to someone when she got a chance to really look at them.
âFrosted tips would look so much better on you than raccoon stripes. No offense but youâre not giving off the full scene kid vibes to fully embrace the stripes.â She said with a laugh. âWhat I am going to do though is clean up this beard first off.â
âPut on some Fall Out Boy and youâll see my inner scene kid in action,â Taran said, shrugging his shoulders. He touched the side of his chin where his facial hair had begun to grow just as he like it. A flash of doubt showed in his expression as he looked back at her in the mirror.
âOn second thought, maybe i could do without the cut,â he blurted out with a nervous smile. Still, Taran dreaded the thought of actually going back to the office. âBut since Iâm not eager to head to work, I say we blow off our jobs and get some coffee.â
âAt this point in our friendship, if I wanted to hit any bases with you, I would have made a more romantic gesture that didnât involve our two sweating bodies laying idly in a tent in front of the whole in nothing but our boxers.â Beck pointed out as he unzipped the tents door. As he did so, he could already feel the heat pouring out of it an oven or a roaring furnace.  âIf I had any desire to be Coyote Peterson, I would have pursued it by now.â The brunette sighed before tossing his backpack and sleeping bag inside the tent blindly. âWhy do we do a town-wide camping trip aways? To bond over couples giving each other hot and heavy handys and get served to the bugs like a self soufflĂŠ?â
âRather descriptive for a guy who definitely doesnât want to fuck me,â Taran joked. He leaned in towards the tent and was immediately put out by the radiating heat. Was he really expected to stay in here when the luxury of air-conditioning was readily available in the comfort of his own home? Taran placed his own things inside and began going through his pack. âWell, Iâm here for work - Parks and Rec business and whatnot,â he answered offhandedly until he finally produced a joint from his bag, holding out to Beck. âIâm sure we could make it worth our while.â
â itâs not a serenade , "   nolan grumbled ,  turning away from the guy to fiddle with the knobs at the end of his guitar ,   "  im figuring something out .  "   he tries at it again with the strings ,  doing one round of the same sequence he had been repeating .   it sounded better ,  the notes were more consistent ,  but something was still missing .   "  hey do you sing ? "    he asked the guy - maybe he could help him out ,   considering that branch he stepped on broke his focus .
âDonât worry about it too much. I would argue that there are enough songs about bumping into people in the middle of the woods,â Taran replied as if to humour him. He listened intently to the melody, not minding the distraction from the camping chaos. Stifling a laugh, Taran shook his head when asked if he could sing. âSure, I could sing. You and anyone in a ten mile radius wonât like it, though.â
It was surprising that Beckham even had the capability of pitching a tent. Maybe the act didnât require much of a skill set but rather the common sense of following instructions. Beck had just finished putting the last peg in place when he turned to Taran, unrolling his sleeping bag in one quick snap of the wrist. âI hope you brought your own sleeping bag.â He cautioned as he tucked the puffy mat inside the tent to protect it from miscellaneous bugs and other dirt. âThis isnât sleep-away camp. Weâre not doubling up and snuggling because you mistake a crackling stick for a lingering bear. I donât like being big spoon, or little spoon. Or any form of cutlery.âÂ
@tarankorpal¡
Taran almost felt bad that he barely lifted a finger to help pitch the tent. Almost. Isnât that what friends were for anyways? He rolled his eyes at Beckhamâs comment and plopped his things down next to their supplies. âIf this is your way of telling me that youâre trying to get to first base then Iâd appreciate a nice dinner,â he bit back. Beckham was one of the few he could speak with candidly, but he still threaded lightly in case anyone were to drop in on them. After the last peg was put in place, Taran held his phone in the air and got back a weak signal in return. âGod, itâs like weâre fucking Amish.â
@peachesstart¡   â   nolan tended to zone out .  when he had his hands on a guitar in a quiet place ,  everything around him just gets tuned out as his focus veers into the direction of the instrument at hand  â  itâs like he surrounds himself in a small bubble ,  ignorant to his surroundings until something pops it ,  making him aware to the world around him once more .   he plucks at the strings one quiet night ,  his ears honed in on a new sequence of sounds he had figured out ,  repeating and repeating until he could play it through with his memory alone .  he stays like this for a while ,  until a different sound invades his ears ,  something different from the sounds he was playing .  brows furrowed ,  he turns around to the source ,  visibly irritated .   â what ?  â
Taran couldnât stand being outside. Not the bugs or the dirt or the way people suddenly thought it was appropriate to have Jason Mraz jam sessions in the middle of the woods. Though he tried to pass as quietly as possible to get to his campsite, the sound of crunching branches under his feet made Taranâs presence known. He pulled a tight smile at Nolanâs tone and turned to face him. âOh, carry on,â Taran replied with his hands up as if to say he meant no harm. âIâm sure these birds love hearing your cute little serenades.â
Ava didnât have much on her books for the day and she had finished all of her clients at this point she was ready to just leave. She sat in her chair spinning around in circles for almost five minutes before she pulled out her phone sending a text.
[TEXT] I have nothing to do at work for the whole day. Please come visit, let me experiment on you or come save me and take me to do something fun PLEASE
She started to scroll through her twitter and instagram as she waited on the other to respond. She hoped they were quick and gave her some plans before she rearranged the entire shop out of boredom.
@peachesstartâ
Taran read the text over for what seemed like the tenth time. Were hair stylists always this friendly or was it just another small town quirk? Deciding not to pay it any mind, he checked out of work early and made his way over to the salon over on Strawberry Lane.Â
âYou caught me at the perfect time,â Taran said as he entered, not bothering with proper introductions. âIf I have to hear another complaint about dumpster-diving possums, I might lose it.â
He took a seat in an empty salon chair and swiveled around to face her. âSo, what are we thinking? Myspace-era raccoon stripes or frosted tips?â
{ dev patel â twenty-eight â he/him } well, well, well if it isnât taran korpal running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from blueberry boulevard and have lived here for one year. if youâre wondering what theyâve been up to, i hear theyâre a director for the parks and recreation department for a living. they have been known to be insincere yet charismatic. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.Â
hi, there! iâm jan and iâm happy to introduce taran. feel free to send me a message if youâre looking to draw up some connections or do some plotting.Â
born in chicago to a large family of overachievers, taranâs parents expected nothing less from their golden boy. his mother and father were both part of the faculty at the university of chicago and were heavily involved with the school. though his grades were less than stellar, he managed to squirm his way into college with the help of his parents. he spent his days slacking off, knowing full well that his safety net would protect him
he began to hide the fact that he was placed on academic probation for his poor GPA and attendance. however, it all came to a stop when taran failed out of his courses. it became a source of contention between him and his family. after his stint at the university of chicago, taran attended a local community college to the disappointment of his parents. despite this, taran took to the course-load well and graduated with decent standing.Â
once again, the connection to the korpals landed him a job with a firm right out of graduation - who said nepotism was a bad thing? he weaseled his way up the corporate ladder to land a comfortable spot in the company.Â
having worked there for several years, taran was a shoe-in for the promotion in the firm. when he was passed up for the role in favour of the vice presidentâs son, taran had a meltdown at the office and stormed out of the building. he was promptly fired for his behaviour and cut off from his fellow associates. out of shame, he took it upon himself to move far from chicago and from anyone who would recognize his name.Â
seeing an opening at the peach hollow parks and rec department, taran jumped at the chance for a fresh start. though he excelled in his new job, the country lifestyle was nowhere near what he had grown accustomed to.
taran still carries a chip on his shoulder about the great korpal legacy. he wants more than ever to return to his ivory tower and will not stop until he gets it back. known as quite the suck-up, taranâs words should never been taken at face value. as much as he is a charming smooth-talker, he could just as well be a two-faced asshole. though he wonât admit it, he looks down at the country bumpkins of peach hollow and their small town sensibilities. forget the rich residents over at peach place who settle for living in the middle of nowhere. i mean, would it kill anyone to open a decent shawarma place around here?Â
The paper ball slumped just out of reach from the garbage can in the corner. Taran couldnât seem to get his aim right now matter how hard heâd tried. As he crumpled another sheet in his hands, a knock on the door so rudely interrupted his precious âworkâ.
âJust a minute!â
Immediately, Taran removed his feet from his desk and straightened his curly hair as best as he could. A little girl peeked through and it took him everything not to scowl.
âMarybeth, that is no way to act,â the girlâs mother said as she entered the room herself.
He put on a megawatt smile and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, âItâs not problem at all. Please take a seat.â
If you didnât know any better, you would say he looked downright ecstatic for the company. However, Taran specifically instructed the secretary that he wouldnât be taking any more appointments today. After sitting through a three-hour budget meeting, it was hard not to get sick of other peopleâs voices. He at least hoped that the look on his face didnât seem too forced.
âWhat can I do for you today?â
âWell, Mr. Korpal - Tarin. Do you mind if we call you Tarin.â
Yes, he thought to himself. Yes, he did mind very much.
âOf course not! After all, weâre one big family here in Peach Hollow,â he replied instead.
âYou are a darlinâ,â she said with that lazy drawl everyone had in Georgia. âWeâre here to see about the noise over at the park near Peach Place.â
Taran mustered up a look of concern as best as he could. Heâd gotten quite used to feigning worry when it came to housewives and rich old seniors. She wasnât the first to come charging into his office on a holy mission and she certainly wouldnât be the last. Didnât these people have anything better to do than bother the Parks and Rec department of a town that wasnât even a blip on the radar?
âYou see, there are rules in place about these sorts of things.â Taran put it tenderly. Maybe he could save them the mountain of paperwork they would have to do. More, importantly, it would save him the trouble of actually going through it all.
The woman opened her comically large purse and pulled out a stack of papers. She dropped it on his desk with a thump and quirked an eyebrow at him as if sheâd won an argument.
He lifted the papers and smoothed them out. âIâll be sure to look over these.The safety of our children is this townâs utmost priority.â
âIâm glad to hear that, Tarin,â she sighed. âThis place could do with more young men like you.â
Taran placed a hand over his heart and nodded his head with a smile that was almost too condescending. The woman called over her young daughter who began picking the leaves off of his ficus. The girl took out a drawing from her own purse (Seriously? A seven year old with a Prada bad?) and handed it over to him. It was a picture of the town with a wonky rainbow over the page. God help the Peach Hollow elementary art curriculum.Â
After a warm thank you, he gently escorted the mother and daughter out of his office. The pair departed looking as satisfied as ever while Taran sat in his chair, peace finally restored. He gave the picture a once-over and proceeded to crumple it in his hand.
Miss.
He tried again with the fresh stack of papers on his desk.
