Honestly, it was such a rarity for Brenden to lose his temper and yet - today was a bad day. Mostly because of his sister and definitely because of the words she screamed at him. Worthless. Terrible. He was a bad brother, he couldn't help her no matter what he tried. It was the million dollar question: how do you help someone that doesn't want to help themselves? A frustrating and disheartening dilemma the artist had found himself in. The one-sided screaming match ends quickly, before Brenden is launching his cell phone across the door, slamming into the wall with a satisfying crunch. The clipped curse words are lost on his ears as blood pumps through him wild and fast, his rage hadn't surfaced like that in quite sometime and it felt good to let it out. Except... there was a customer in his shop, one he hadn't heard walk through that front door.

Clearing his throat and offering a lame explanation, he cleans the broken bits and tosses them into the trash swiftly, the man straightening and offering his assistance. It was not his usually mask of indifference that rests on his face, his dark eyes still brimming with anger but it was slowly dissipating, the wrecking of his electronic having relieved some of that pent up rage. Yet, when she questions him, Brenden pauses for the briefest of moments before dragging a hand down his face, "Yeah, family affairs," he answers gruffly his words holding the faintest exhaustion. It was a miracle he had answered her, the warlock never entertaining the idea before that he needed to explain himself to someone. It wasn't as if he thought she deserved an explanation, his normal would have been to ignore her question altogether and move on, but today seemed different. It almost felt as if he was holding onto his sanity by a mere thread.

Sighing, he drops his hand, his dark eyes traveling to the slender blonde, noting the way her hands perched on her hips. Her sassy stance and annoyance would have irritated Brenden on a normal day but today, all of his emotions were on his sister for the time being. When she finally explains her reasoning for being here, Brenden gives a tight nod before gesturing towards the back, "Come on, we can have a consultation in my office," he says before leading the way through the impeccably clean shop. Dropping into his chair, he reaches for one of his two binders, one for customer use and one for personal use, before he slides it across the desk to the woman. Honestly, if he hadn't been so damn distracted, the artist would have refused her right then and there. He never did work on someone who didn't know what they wanted.

Call it pride.

Yet, nothing pissed the man off more than getting his work covered up by another tattoo because they didn't think it through the first time. Still, he had missed her questioning statement earlier, the man hardly prepared for the outcome of their conversation. "Have a seat," he gestures to the chair on the other side of the desk, "What's your name?" He asks gruffly, the man hardly... pleasant in any sense but it was as close to polite as he could get. "Let's talk about your piece you want done, I'll let you know now I don't do pre-designed pieces. It's not my style," he states pointedly, at least she would know immediately than having her time wasted if she was about to pull out artwork she had drawn for the tattoo. Brenden is about to ask another question before the shop phone begins ringing, his dark eyes glancing over at the landline the caller ID popping up with his sister's number. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," he breathes under his breath before pushing his chair back aggressively, the chair nearly tipping over as he stalks around the desk.

Walking behind the woman, he crouches down on the side of her, reaching under the desk and yanking the line from the wall. It was very possible, he had just damaged the hookup but... it was silent except for the quiet music playing in the speakers overhead. Grunting, he stands and prowls back around the desk and plops back into his chair. His eyes blaze with annoyance and yet, Brenden was thankful his sister couldn't call him for the moment, at least until he got a new phone. "Ah, where were we?" He growls, his tenors laced with irritation in general, honestly, the man always sounded irritated.