Initiation

—Amid the inked veil of destiny, whispers of rebellion and artistry intertwine, carving an enigmatic journey.

Beast Ink Tattoo Parlour—where ink spills and needles dance on flesh like a rebellious ballet. From a distance, it looked like a secret lair, a den of artistic defiance tucked away from the world's prying eyes. The façade bore the mark of countless stories etched into skin, and the neon sign above the entrance flickered with a defiant energy.

As I stepped closer, the low hum of music swirled around me like a cloak of anticipation. The beat thrummed in sync with my heartbeat, setting the stage for the unknown that lay ahead. I pushed the door open, its creak a welcoming echo in my ears.

The scene that unfolded before me was like stepping into an alternate reality. An eclectic mix of tattooed artists huddled around, their fingers dancing on skin canvases. The air was thick with the scent of ink and possibility, an intoxicating blend that tugged at my senses.

The room pulsed with activity—each corner, a glimpse into an artist's world. Ink bottles stood sentinel on tables, needles glinted in the dim light, and sketches adorned the walls like a tapestry of dreams. The chatter of voices and the buzz of tattoo machines mingled with the music, creating a symphony of creative chaos.

I shuffled hesitantly into the room, a sudden self-consciousness settling over me like a second skin. The artists turned, their gazes flickering over my form. Dressed in a way that hid any trace of tattoos, I must have seemed an anomaly—a visitor in their domain.

"Hey, can I help you?" one of them called out, skepticism lacing his tone.

I cleared my throat, a slight tremor betraying my nerves. "I'm looking for Finn."

The room seemed to freeze, the artists exchanging glances that held more questions than answers. The tension was palpable, a stifling weight that seemed to thicken the air.

"He's in the back," one of them finally muttered, nodding towards a door at the far end.

I offered a tight-lipped smile in gratitude, my heart racing as I made my way towards that door. Each step felt like a tentative journey into uncharted territory, my mind a swirling storm of uncertainty.

And then, there he was. Finn emerged from the shadows, his familiar grin like a beacon of reassurance. Before I could register what was happening, his arms enveloped me in a warm hug, a gesture so unexpected that my breath caught in my throat.

For a moment, I was frozen, the sensation foreign yet oddly comforting. My father had never been one for hugs, his affectionate gestures limited to firm handshakes and nods of approval. This embrace felt different—almost fatherly, a reminder that not all forms of connection came with strings attached.

As Finn released me, his gaze held a silent understanding, as if he knew the significance of that simple act. I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude, a sense of camaraderie that mingled with the nervous excitement within me.

"You're here," Finn said, his voice breaking the tension that had settled over us like a cloud. "I'm assuming you've thought over what we discussed?"

I nodded, my resolve hardening. "Yeah. I came to talk about your offer."

His smile was infectious, a blend of encouragement and intrigue. "Great. But before we dive into that, let me introduce you to someone."

He gestured towards a young man nearby, his features a mix of curiosity and cautious reserve. "Emma, this is Liam. He'll be your mentor if you decide to join us."

Liam's gaze met mine, his eyes holding a flicker of curiosity that mirrored my own. Already I could tell that he wasn't my biggest fan, I swear I thought he was glaring at me, or maybe that was just the ink going to my head.

***

In the elegant confines of the upscale restaurant, Ellie Rose Evans made an entrance that demanded attention. Clad in shades of pink and mauve, her attire boasted floral accents that accentuated her aura of confidence. Her morning ritual had been a meticulously choreographed dance involving an array of skincare products and makeup essentials. From the sought-after moisturizer that promised an ethereal glow to the signature lipstick shade from an esteemed designer, every step had been a brushstroke in Ellie's masterpiece of glamour.

Seated across from her was Lila, a loyal friend whose amusement was evident in the sparkle of her eyes. The banter between the two was a familiar symphony, each note tuned to Ellie's extravagant lifestyle.

"Seriously, Ellie, how many products did you use this morning?" Lila quipped, her laughter dancing like a playful breeze.

Ellie waved off the question with a dismissive gesture, her manicured nails glinting in the light. "Just the essentials, my dear. A girl must maintain her image, after all."

Lila's laughter rippled through the air. "You're a class of your own, Ellie."

Their lunch affair unfolded against a backdrop of culinary sophistication. Ellie's carefully chosen dish adhered to her stringent dietary preferences—gluten-free, keto-free, vegan, and naturally, healthy. Lila, however, had chosen a sandwich with white bread and ham, a choice that earned her Ellie's trademark eye-roll.

"Are you seriously going to load up on carbs in front of me?" Ellie snapped, her tone laced with what Lila could only assume to be annoyance.

Lila's retort was lighthearted. "Yes, Ellie, I am. Some of us believe in enjoying our meals."

A sight caught Ellie's eye—a handsome young man with blonde hair and blue eyes, the epitome of aesthetic perfection. Lila's gentle nudge encouraged Ellie to pursue her interest, but fate had other plans.

"Wait, isn't that the guy who always had a thing for Emma?" Lila observed, her words a chink in Ellie's armor.

A surge of frustration bubbled within Ellie, prompting her to impulsively slap her sandwich away. The satisfaction that gleamed in Lila's eyes was a testament to her victory in their ongoing playful rivalry.

A forced smile concealed Ellie's annoyance. "Cut the carbs Lila, maybe then you'd think straight."

Resuming her pursuit of the elusive boy's attention, Ellie's efforts were useless. His focus remained unwavering as he ordered to go, leaving Ellie simmering in a mixture of anger and disappointment.

In the depths of Ellie's mind, a relentless hatred towards her twin sister, Emma, brewed. Memories of Emma's disruptive antics, like a relentless storm, flooded her thoughts—ruined family occasions, cringe-worthy school incidents, and the infamous incident when Emma dyed her hair blue just to provoke Ellie.

Yet, just as resentment threatened to consume her, a new distraction emerged. Another young man, dark and mysterious, entered the scene, diverting Ellie's attention. Lila's knowing glance acknowledged the shift, and Ellie wasted no time in redirecting her focus.

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Looks like I've found my next inspiration."

Lila's laughter was a soothing presence amidst Ellie's emotional whirlwind. "You've found something alright. But it sure as hell ain't 'inspiration.' " She whispered that last part intentionally.

"You do you Ellie," she said in between mouthfuls.

As lunch concluded, Ellie's thoughts buzzed with anticipation. The afternoon held a lineup of classes where she would dazzle with her signature panache. Moreover, a fresh prospect—a captivating new target—now occupied her thoughts.

***

Trial One: "Ink Immersion"

So, there I was, fresh-faced and eager, ready to dive headfirst into the wild world of tattooing. Liam seemed to have a knack for ink—I mean of course he did, he was a tattoo artist. Sure, he didn't seem to like me from the beginning, but he took me under his wing for my 'initiation'. He led me to a corner of the studio, where a canvas awaited—my skin.

"So, do I get to choose the design?" I asked, trying to sound all cool and nonchalant. He raised an eyebrow, chuckling.

"Nah, newbie. We're going old school," he smirked, handing me a design that looked like it belonged in a vintage circus poster. "It's gonna be a wild ride, just like this place."

With steady hands, he showed me the ropes, guiding the needle like a maestro conducting a symphony. As I felt the sting and saw the ink merge with my skin, I had a strange feeling. And no, it wasn't the 'butterflies in your stomach' kind. Dude was hot but not that hot. Like this was just a test, but I'd felt like I'd already passed. Was that weird? I hadn't accepted Finn's offer yet, I was just going through orientation. God, I sounded just like one of those Alcott brats. Let's just get this over and done with.

Trial Two: "Ink Mirage"

Next, I met Carlos, the one who gave off vibes like he'd been forged in the fires of a tattoo inferno. Or maybe that was because of his orange hair. He looked like he was just waiting to erupt—and I only realized how messed up that sounded after I said it. Good thing no one here could read my mind. My stomach churned as he unveiled the second trial—a complicated design of his that he had done during his initiation. With a glint in his eyes that could melt steel, Carlos challenged me to recreate it freehand.

"This one's not for the faint-hearted," he deadpanned, his dark gaze never leaving mine. I guess he'd been born without a sarcasm filter. "...Or for a prissy Alcott brat."

All the members of Beast Ink had to go through this one. Apparently, the original design had been lost somewhere down the line but Finn kept his. So first was Carlos, then Liam and then Nina. Each one had to do the same design but make it better. And the better it was, the more valuable you were to the crew. So I sat down to start, under Carlos' eagle-like gaze.

I sketched, erased, and sketched some more, feeling like my brain was going to have a meltdown. Carlos watched, offering cryptic advice that probably only made sense to him. But as my hand finally began to trace the curves and lines with confidence, his frosty exterior cracked, revealing a sliver of begrudging respect. He nodded to Finn and begrudgingly nodded towards another door. My next trial.

Trial Three: "Ink Fusion"

Nina, Nina was a mystery to me. Apparently she was a marine biologist and did tattoos when she was free. Whatever that meant. She was the fierce and fiery artist with a heart of gold, brought me face-to-face with a tattoo machine and an empty canvas. An actual canvas this time round. But there was a catch—I had to ink a design while blindfolded. Because why make things easy, right?

"Trust your gut," Nina encouraged, her voice as soothing as the ocean's waves. Blindfolded, I took a deep breath and moved the machine, relying on instinct and touch. It was like dancing in the dark, except with two left feet and a blindfold that reeked like my high school gym socks.

When the blindfold finally came off, I stared at the design, a mix of chaos and creativity. I mean it wasn't stellar, but it was better than I had expected. Nina grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. "That's the spirit kid."

Trial Four: "Ink Legacy"

Finally, the grand finale, led by the inked-up maestro himself, Finn. This trial was all about connecting with the heart of Beast Ink, about leaving a piece of myself within its hallowed walls. I felt like I was auditioning for a secret tattoo society.

Finn handed me a tiny vial, its contents shimmering like liquid dreams. "This ink has seen generations pass. Your task: create a design that reflects the soul of Beast Ink."

My mind whirled as I dipped the needle into the vial. I don't know what came over me, but whatever it was, it made me realize that I needed this. I wanted this. This wasn't an art school that my dad or my mom had talked to the dean to let me into. It wasn't a place where they could slip a couple hundred grand just so I wouldn't be a jobless bum who'd stain the reputation. This was a place I could be me. And this would be my first tattoo design. I had to make sure it was perfect. And as my creation took shape, Finn's eyes softened, like he was witnessing the birth of a new creation of his own.