Ink & Exhausts

Fame isn't always what it's cracked up to be, especially in a world where people have lost all sense of boundaries.

Calla Ford found her fame after a lifetime of abuse and neglect, pouring her pain into her art. Shortly after she turned 18, she entered in local and national tattooing competitions, rising to the title of "Ink Master" just shy of her 25th birthday. Notorious for shutting paparazzi down and declining tattoos to people who felt the need to invade her personal life, she's now (mostly) treated like a normal person once again. Owner of Black Rose Tattoo & Piercings, she makes a steady living, but something else is missing from her life.

Emerson "Loki" Pierce didn't have such luck. A Sargent at Arms for Hand of Odin's Motorcycle Club, on-call Security agent, and an instant hit on TikTok, he has tried to look away from what fame brought him. A slew of thirsty women who can't take no for an answer, invade his privacy, and think they deserve to be with him. Loki only wants one thing in life, but that one thing seems hard to find.

Can both of them put aside their trust issues, fight against pushy fans, and survive together? Or will fame, constant push for content, and global outrage push them apart for good?

Introduction

"So, Calla." The interviewer looked over at the chair opposite of him, eyeing Calla Ford, a renowned Ink Master, with skepticism. Of course, they weren't in the era of "goth is just a phase," but people still looked at her funny because she loved her black or eccentric clothes, that she had piercings and ink, or enjoyed metal and hard rock. It was her signature style and she loved who she was. "We have to know... You're one of the few celebrities that doesn't allow insight into your life. You've chased away paparazzi, you've thrown potential clients out... Why?" Calla cocked her head, a sly smile on her face.

"Well, Marcus," She began, putting a Demonia-clad foot over her knee. "It's because like everyone else, I am human. Just because I've made it big on TV means I don't deserve privacy? That I am any better than anyone else in this room?" She gestured out towards the live audience, who was listening closely. "I turn away clients all the time, for multitudes of reasons. My focus isn't in certain styles of tattooing, I don't do gang or club tattoos, I certainly don't do racist support tattoos, and I don't give personal information that can be sold to the media because that's harmful to myself, and someone is selfish enough to make a quick buck on information that was not theirs to give." Calla shrugged. her feathery, long black bob splaying momentarily and returning to it's original position, orienting her bangs to keep them out of her almond eyes. "Everyone is so focused on celebrity news; breakups, meltdowns, freak-outs, incidents, what's coming out, what's going on; but nobody is entitled to that information except who they want to share it with." Her gray eyes sharp on the interviewer, expecting his next question.

"Well, the spotlight is demanding. It's only natural for people who are interested in your work to be curious." He suggested, but Calla shook her head.

"Is it 'just' curiosity when they're taking pictures of me in my pajamas from the bushes at my house?" Calla asked, knitting her fingers together and setting them in her lap. "Is it 'just' curiosity for them to follow me? To hound me when I want to enjoy a meal at a restaurant?" Marcus' eyes widened a little bit. "That's not curiosity, that's disrespect and disregard to my life, and to my privacy. It's called setting boundaries. Just because someone is a Hollywood megastar or a viral sensation doesn't mean people can just walk all over you, or that you have to speak to them." Calla explained. "What would happen if you were just trying to enjoy a meal with your family, and a crowd of people came up to you, demanding to know sensitive information? Or that quite a few of them would try to be a homewrecker?" She watched his jaw tick out of nervousness. "Exactly. You'd feel uncomfortable, vulnerable, and most importantly of all, unsafe." She switched leg-over-knee. "That's what is lost in this day and age. People automatically assume they'll get what they want if they push hard enough, but that doesn't fly in Texas." The audience chuckled. "When I say no, it means it is never going to happen in your lifetime. You could ask me 100 times, the answer is still going to be no." He cleared his throat before changing the subject.

"Well, then I hope this isn't intrusive enough to warrant a 'no,' then, but we have heard that you have declined coming back to television as a guest judge for Ink Master. May we ask why?" She shrugged once more.

"I have too many clients that would require rescheduling." She said, honest and simple. "Besides, I had my time in the spotlight. I think one season of Ink Masters is enough for my life. I still do podcasts or interviews when I have the availability to, I'm more than happy to pop-up onto someone's TikTok or Instagram feed as a guest in their video, as long as they ask me, and I'm more than happy to interact with people at events-" The TV at Mead Maiden Tavern was changed.

"Could learn a thing or two from her, ya know?" Fenrir, the 6'8" President of Hand of Odin MC looked over at Loki, his Sergeant at Arms. "You instantly blew up on TikTok last year. What happens when someone finds you out?" Loki, just two inches shorter than Fenrir, blew out a breath and sighed.

"I don't know, honestly." He admitted, bringing his bottle of Ziegenbock to his lips, taking a sip. "My face is always covered, they haven't seen my leg tattoos, I use a blank cut when I'm shooting content, and I have six bikes that get rotated out, but they're non-descript. Everyone and their mother's have a stock bikes, and that's why I haven't done any customization to them." Fenrir let out an amused chuckle. "Besides, she has actual talent. I'm just eye-candy for most of them."

"Oh, would you quit with the self-degrading bullshit?" Fenrir looked at him, annoyed that he was still doing this. "Yes- and in a non-gay way, you are a fucking devil when it comes to looks. You also have exceptional investigative skills that any security, accounting, and IT company would kill for. You find discrepancies almost instantly, you fix problems quickly, and you're one of the most reliable people in this damn club." Loki let out a huff. "When was the last time you had some ink therapy, man?" Fenrir asked him, sipping his own glass of mead; a house blend that was made right here.

"A few years... But I don't know what I would want." Loki drank down the last of the bottle.

"Tell you what, why don't we go pay her a visit?" Fenrir suggested, downing the rest of his drink. Loki raised a brow, taken slightly aback.

"Her? Calla fucking Ford?" He barked out a laugh. "She has a client list as long as ours!"

"She makes time for us." Fenrir winked, getting up. "Her shop is literally two blocks down from here, and that interview was pre-recorded. Let's go talk to her."