1. Atticus #2
My plan has always been to eventually open my own tattoo studio, but instead, I’ve agreed to work out of Betty Barnett’s new shop.
I’ve known Betty and her mentor, Suede, for years, so although it might not be my name above the door, if I have to work for anyone, it might as well be someone I like and respect.
Felix can work anywhere he finds inspiration, and once he settles on a theme for his next collection, he’ll be consumed by it until he’s done.
Although nothing is ever guaranteed when it comes to my twin, I’ve done everything in my power to make downstairs his dream studio, and I’m hopeful that when he finally comes up to see the loft, he’ll agree that this entire building is perfect for us both.
I’m our family’s fixer, and I love my role.
My sister needed us, and now we’re here.
She seems happy with Nero, and he’s already told us all that he wants to marry her.
None of us have given him our blessing yet, but being in town will give us a chance to figure out if he’s worthy of Tori.
If he proves that he is, then we’ll welcome him into the family.
If not, then we’ll make sure he leaves her alone.
“Att,” Felix shouts.
“Yeah, bro?” I call back, lowering myself onto the cloud couch and spreading out comfortably as I wait for Felix to appear.
“It’s perfect. The light, it’s…” His eyes close as he tips his head back and exhales happily. “It’s perfect, Att. It’s perfect.”
“I told you it would be, didn’t I?”
“Thank you, Att.”
“You don’t need to thank me. Did you see my room?” I chuckle. “Your studio is nowhere near as bougie as my closet,” I tell him, smiling at the other half of me.
“Marcus is making calls. Did we find him anywhere to live yet? There are only two bedrooms here,” Felix asks, suddenly remembering that his PA, Marcus, has made the move to Montana with us.
“Yes. Betty’s husband’s family has a couple of apartments that they rent out over their garage in town. He moved into one of those. He came out and viewed it a month ago, and he moved all of his stuff here last week. He’s settled.”
“Am I paying for that? I should be paying for that,” Felix says, gnawing at his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Yes. I arranged it for him and have his rent and all of his utilities coming out of our account. It’s all covered.”
“Good. That’s good. I can’t believe I forgot about him.”
“You didn’t forget about him. You were finishing the last piece in the collection. You were busy, so I sorted it,” I assure him.
“That’s good, because I need him. None of my other PAs have lasted as long as him.”
“I know. He’s the best, and he wanted to move here with us. Apparently, he was having some shit with his ex back in New York, so he was excited to have an excuse to move across the country with us. He texted me the day he moved in, telling me how much he loves his new place. He’s good.”
“Okay,” Felix says, nodding absentmindedly, his thoughts already on something else.
My twin isn’t a flake. He’s just a creative genius who struggles to focus on anything other than his muse.
Art is his everything, and his pieces have started to garner interest from some huge galleries and buyers.
His last collection of underwater creatures—mermen and mermaids, abstract whales and sharks—was picked up by a prestigious gallery, and the biggest piece ended up selling for a lot of money.
“Any thoughts on what your new collection is going to be?” I ask.
He shakes his head, clearly distracted. “I don’t know, but there’s something about the light here. It’s going to be beautiful,” he muses.
“Are you hungry? Shall I go and get us all some food?”
“Yeah, burger—”
“I know what you want,” I cut him off with a smile.
“Of course you do. What does Marcus usually get?”
“I’ll ask him,” I assure Felix. My brother likes routine. His entire diet consists of seven days’ worth of meals that he repeats. No variation, no change, nothing to distract his mind from the art.
As kids, our parents tried to get us to try new foods, to experiment, but Felix wasn’t interested. He likes things a certain way, and I like him to be happy, so I make sure he gets the food he likes in the way he likes it.
Pushing to my feet, I smile as I glance behind me at the cloud couch. “I fucking love this couch,” I tell my brother, who looks at it with so much disinterest that I can’t help but laugh.
“Go check out your room,” I tell Felix as I pass him, opening the heavy metal door and heading downstairs. “Marcus,” I call.
A harassed and frantic-looking Marcus steps from behind one of the massive slabs of marble that’s waiting to be positioned in the corner of the studio. “Hi, Atticus. Do you need help with something?” he asks.
“No, I’m good,” I tell him, scoffing when he literally sags in relief.