He can be found in the Financial district.
Gotta keep movin', that's what Javez always tells himself. Had a full name once, left it behind the day he walked out of school, aged thirteen, and never looked back at the place. Got a whole bunch of other names too, written across a whole bunch of police files, probation reports and social worker casenotes. Good luck to whoever wants to try to piece 'em all together and work out that they're all about the same person.
Gotta keep movin'. Don't let 'em get a fix on you. You stop, you're dead.
Javez grew up in Gresty. Usual way out of there was through crime. Having a regular job - driving a delivery truck, or standing out there in a monkey suit on Silver or Empire and opening doors for people - made you almost a pillar of the community. Javez didn't go for any of that. Didn't know what he wanted to do, just that he wanted out.
Skateboarding was cool, though. Hanging out down at the NCS, watching kids fall on their ass. Javez did plenty of that too. Couldn't 'board worth a damn. Scratch that as a way of getting out of Gresty.
The skatepark had another use, though. Blank canvas. All that concrete, in handy San Paro municipal grey, just waiting for someone to do something more interesting with it. The crew Javez hung out with, some were born to have guns in their hand, others a spike in their arm. Javez, though' put a paintcan in his hand and he's a fuckin' artist.
Tagging was his thing. G-Kings' artist-in-residence. Back then, they weren't the biggest or baddest gang in the city, and they still had plenty of problems with the Barbarians over on Border, but everyone still knew who they were. His tags, all over the city. Works of fuckin' art.
Others thought so. Effigy magazine said street was back in again. Picture it: Javez, glossy magazine cover star.
So now he's finally moving. Out of Gresty. Into the art galleries on Canalside and the Important People party circuit. Maybe flavour of the month, but he's going to make it last as long as he can. Rich bitches dig him, especially if he lays the ghetto stuff on thick. He meets Bonita Benjamin. They had a thing together for a short while, but don't talk about it anymore. That's cool. No problem there.
She introduces him to Big Daddy Arlon. Arlon's hip; sees right through the ghetto act and tells Javez he knows he's smarter than that. Arlon's a cool guy; came up from the streets, but never makes a big deal about it.
Arlon talks art. Arlon talks politics. Starts giving him books to read. Javez's head gets turned inside out. On the move again. Not social mobility now; mental mobility. Free your mind, and your ass will follow.
Street art goes back out of style. Effigy says he's gone from Hot to Not. Javez doesn't care. Got bigger things going on inside his head than wanting to ball their next month's cover model anyway.
Arlon's got a new thing going on. Javez wants in. This city. Just one big blank canvas, waiting for someone to start writing new ideas all across it.