ugly duckling

"I came from work," Leticia always came from work. She feels the need to excuse herself, even though she dresses well in reds and blacks that shine under the bar lights. It's obviously not as, well, lovely as Hannah's.

Hannah was always lovely.

"Hold on, I'll buy the next round," She waves for another shot so that she can take one at the same time, though Hannah is a little faster in downing hers. Surprising, but maybe her tall stature makes her hold her liquor better.

"Unless you want to dance?"

It's a strangely familiar ritual to have Leticia down a shot at the same time as her. The alcohol doesn't seem to sting as bad now that there is something to drink with, instead of drinking boxed wine with fruit punch, pure gasoline with someone beside her doesn't hit so bad. Or maybe it's just the atmosphere of the club distracting all the rest of her senses that does it. Future experimentation was needed.

That thought is swiftly forgotten when Leticia presents two different avenues to walk down. Stay at the bar, or go out onto the floor.

She glances out at the small sea of people around them. People smiling with pupils blown way too wide, and body glitter that would never quite wash out completely, and shiny skin, and teeth that glow like little backlit pearls in the open wounds of their mouths. Not a unified sea ebbing and flowing at the same time, but a hive, where every insect had its place.

"I don't think this is the sort of crowd for ballet." She comments idly, and she thinks that's answer enough. Besides, she has a perfectly good conversation partner here. She and Leticia don't often get to speak, aside from that one chance encounter by her workplace. But, perhaps she can be convinced, if she's sufficiently loosened up.

She didn't usually go proclaiming stuff about her private life. She didn't usually have one to begin with.

"Hannah, don't you look all dressed up," Leticia waved the tall, graceful woman over, her eyes brightening in the dark space, "You didn't do all that just for me?"

She's joking, mostly, but also feels awkward for showing up in her crappy old leather jacket. Hannah always made her feel unprepared.

@theuglyducklinggc

She actually hadn't intended to be here in the first place. She wasn't going to go. She's not really dressed for it. Well, she's dressed well, because she always takes great pains to dress well, but she hadn't dressed with intention of coming here. She's out of place here, having only been sucked into Sappho's Speakeasy by chance and accident. Pearl jewelry, soft baby pink silk button up, cream colored slacks. She looks dressed up to work at an office, not dance at a club, and she knows it.

The tips of her ears burn with hot shame as Leticia gestures her over. She really hadn't meant to be here, but she already was. And of course, someone she knows is there, and knows that she wasn't supposed to be there. Everyone was either casual, or dressed down in a more exotic manner. She feels... distinctly overprepared. Whereas Leticia looks comfortable in her own second skin, that well-loved leather jacket.

She makes her way to Leticia's side, resting her elbows upon the counter and plucking one of the remaining bisexual flags up idly while she waits for a drink. Simple straight well liquor. It wasn't going to taste good regardless.

She twirls the tiny fabric in her hands, looking over to Leticia sideways with an imperious arch of her brow. She can't just take it. She can't just let Leticia jab at her like that and not give something back in response. She has to say something at least.

"No, Leticia, if I were dressing up for you, I'd use more eyeshadow." She huffs out a humorless chuckle, tucking her little flag behind her ear, then taking the shot the bartender places in front of her. It burns like gasoline, as per usual.

She shakes her head, staring at the floor, unable to meet Hannah's gaze. "Yes, I do want you to like me, Hannah," she says softly. "Because I admire you." Even now, as Hannah's anger burns her, she respects Hannah's ability to so strongly feel her emotions, her courage to speak her mind.

"You don't want to be me, Hannah. Trust me. I'm . . . a coward." An inadequate word to cover all the issues she hides under a carefully crafted facade, issues that would certainly make Hannah want to be nothing like her. She looks up then. "But you, you're strong. You're incredible. I wish I could be more like you."

She lets out an angry noise, strangled in the back of her throat, and holds her hands over the back of her head, crouching down and pressing her palms into the back of her neck. As though, through sheer force of her own musculature, she can curl up tight into a ball and block out the whole of the world. The whole of Odette's beauty. The overwhelming weight of it. That goodness.

"That's right. You're a coward. And everyone still loves you. You are beautiful. You can be anything you want, and you'll still be loved." It's something torn from her through gritted teeth. Something ripped straight from her breastbone. She is always such miserable company.

Ey nodded along to her words. “Oh, so the market’s a new thing for you?” No wonder she looked so lost. It’d be like putting Mercury in the bakery kitchen and forcing em to make croissants or something. Might be fun if other people wouldn’t be waiting for em to get eir shit together.

“Promise, here you go,” ey held out half of the tangerine for her to take, “can’t complain about not having the whole thing, by the way. My greed cannot allow for more to be taken.” Ey winked, jokingly.

She observes it for a short moment, rolling the thin skin stretched along the flesh of the fruit under her thumb to feel the tensity and give. It's lukewarm, unlike her refrigerated fruits at home, so that they'll keep longer. She can't tell if that means she prefers her fruits cold, or if she's just too used to them being that way. But this one was the temperature of the air. And, while chilly, it certainly wasn't as cold as a tangerine from her fridge.

She pops a piece in her mouth and chews. She pays attention to the flavor as much as she can, the texture, the bite of acidity and the way the sweetness of the fruit softens it. She tilts her head to the side, trying to differentiate.

When prompted on if Mercury's taste truly is the best or not, though, all Hannah can do is look at them with a small tremor of a mischievous smile, and shrug.

"I... I want you to know that you're not alone in that feeling," Though they couldn't control how Hannah was feeling right now, Elinor thought it would be healthy to try to open up, even as a heavy pit grew in their stomach.

They tried to shake off that discomfort, letting their shoulders shiver a bit, "I mean, god, I'm 28 and I've never lived on my own longer than a 3 or 4 months. I don't talk about it a lot because it's, um, quite private. But I have OCD, and it's hard to take care of myself sometimes. Eating, sleeping, driving. When I came home after college, my dad decided - we decided it would be best if I didn't live alone," Elinor finds themself looking out the passenger window, feeling like they can't make eye contact while talking about this.

Elinor wasn't necessarily embarrassed by their diagnosis - it actually helped a lot to put a name to the feelings of anxiety and intrusive thoughts that had plagued them since youth. That said, it just wasn't pleasant to talk about. That overwhelming urge of compliance and the way the mind convinced itself that disaster would befall them if Elinor didn't follow orders, it was an ugly side of the illness that showed when Elinor showered and scrubbed their skin multiple times a day, lost control of their breathing, locked every door again and again and again before bed.

Though they weren't very experienced with the specific vice of drinking and shutting off from the world, Elinor thought it would be enough to show Hannah that she wasn't alone. It's incredibly messy, because not being able to trust your own actions and facilities makes the little, daily tasks of life messy. The things everyone else takes for granted until they can't do them independently anymore. But it does not make Hannah messy, the teacher thought, and it would not deter them from being with her through it.

"So, I know what it's like to be able to do things one day, and then feel... totally helpless the next. It's, um. It's really scary. And I never want you to feel like you can't share how you're feeling or show me the messy things. Hannah, nothing about you is unbearable to me."

Hannah always knew that there was some nebulous something that always seemed to be keeping Elinor at a distance from all of Hannah's own experiences. It doesn't take a genius to decipher that. Nor does it take a genius to decipher the fact that bringing it up in any capacity wasn't wanted or welcomed if they themselves didn't bring it up on their own. She knows how raw it is to be made to speak to what's eating at you before you want to. Why would she force it on Elinor?

Which, is another point to the significance of the speech. The fact that it's being willingly shared and not ripped out of them.

"Eli. Nothing about you is unbearable to me either."

Her voice is soft when she says it. Not soft like how it is when she mumbles something mean under her breath. It's closer to how she usually spoke with Tinley, kind and open, but different than that too. There was a different shape to this softness that she didn't quite know how to explain herself. And it makes the truth that comes next all the more raw in her chest. Her eyes feel wet, but she doesn't want to let herself cry, so she twists her lips in strange shapes to hold it back.

There are two things that Hannah wants to say at the same time. But both feel insurmountable. A confession of her own, her own struggles, her own demons. And the urge to beg Elinor to not live by themself, but live anywhere else. Anywhere else in the world.

"I think I am exhausted from making my own decisions, from being alone. And I think you are exhausted from people taking those from you. And I think I am becoming somebody I don't like. And that makes me wonder how you can stand me, sometimes. And I worry that sometimes you stick with me not because you want to, but because I somehow took a choice from you without realizing it."

"No, no, you can stay," he says with a chuckle. "Just making sure you know I won't stop you if you get bored with me or something."

Adam looks around, trying to understand what's interesting about people watching. He'd never really been interested in it and he still doesn't really see the appeal. It is nice to have someone here he can talk to. Especially someone who won't talk work like it's a business meeting instead of the party it's supposed to be.

"So what has your people watching gotten you? Anything juicy?"

She changes the subject, gesturing towards a couple that are currently fleeing the room.

It's silly, but Leticia isn't used to reconnecting with friends she's lost. Once they're gone, they're usually gone for good.

"I make time when it's important. A girl's got to feed herself every once in a while," She would question whether this was a date after the fact. Hannah had never seemed receptive to that before, "I wear heels more often now. I have a different dress code now that I'm a government crony."

Leticia had always had a professional gait about her, but she'd still been working as an EMT when she and Hannah had lost touch. Was it her fault? Had she gotten too distracted by ambition to stay in touch with Hannah? If that was true, the reverse was as well. Leticia wished she had seen Hannah's rise while she was making her own.

"How's the studio? I heard about it opening... a while back, but I never had a reason to go," That sounds a little mean, Leticia realizes, but the words are already out. Why would she have gone by a ballet studio when she didn't even really know the owner anymore?

Hannah isn't lying to herself when she says that she doesn't resent Leticia. She doesn't. There's nothing to resent. It's not as though the abandonment was entirely one-sided. But even if it had been, even if them falling out of one another's lives was entirely on Leticia alone, Hannah doesn't think she could blame her all that much. Hannah knows, inside and out, what she is. There were better things waiting for a smart girl on the other side of ambition. Nobody should have to wait for that.

"I think your posture might be a little better too." She comments, another small tease.

At the question about her studio, Hannah smiles, soft and reserved.

"Didn't realize I was on the hook at all," He snorts, pushing the water glass even closer to her in a quiet insistence, "You don’t have to like me, but you do have to drink and eat. Non-negotiable. Consider it my one act of tyranny tonight."

The plates of food are brought over in silence, since Edmund wants to just let the stumbling gazelle in front of him settle down. He likes the American fares despite himself, a tad messy but very filling for a late evening when he feel too overworked to police his own tone or attitude much. Hopefully she'd appreciate the same, "Are you going to tell me your name?"

She grabs the water and sips at it when he pushes it towards her, without complaint or protest. Though she does roll her eyes slightly, the attitude seems to have become mostly self-contained by now. She hasn't had a good opportunity to observe this one up close yet, so why not now? She might as well. "I never said I didn't like you."

The question about her name isn't much of a surprise, as it is a curiosity. She tilts her head slightly at it for a moment while she considers whether or not to answer it in good faith. Her hand reaches out to snatch some greasy food from the plate. It's an event trying to eat without making a mess all over herself, but she manages, and washes it down with water. She hates to admit that it makes her feel marginally better, but it does. So when she presses the cool side of the water glass to her flushed face, she decides to actually give him an answer.

Maybe it was meant to catch em off guard—which it did—or maybe she was actually serious about the challenge. Well, a free fruit was a free fruit! “Sure, but if the boss comes ‘round and questions me, you’d better defend me, alright?”

"No, I usually just grab them off the shelf of my nearest convenience store. And usually I buy it canned so that I don't have to worry about it molding on my counter if I don't eat it within three days. You just so happen to be the first to offer me a fresh fruit." She admits. It's nothing grand or life changing, for her. She's not buying for herself. She has to wrack her brain to remember if Elinor even likes tangerines.

Then, she considers the offer in front of her for a moment. If she were to offer up an open palm, they might shove the whole fruit in her hand and demand a payment. Or claim that she ate it and demand a payment. She's used to those kinds of tactics.

The event isn't an ideal situation for Adam, lots of people who don't have as many available excuses to give him space when he wants it, plus the colder weather meaning once you find a warm spot, again, less reasons to leave. But he can't say it's a waste of his time which is more than he can say about some work functions he's been to.

He glances at the crowd then back to Hannah next to him.

"I doubt they want my attention," he jokes back. "Maybe my coat or some private time but not my attention."

He chuckles, sipping the cider he'd gotten. Very warm and very spicy.

"What about you?" he asks with a nudge. "Why don't you go out there?"

While her tone is joking, there is some truth to it. She does tend to enjoy people watching. Whether it stemmed from actual enjoyment in the process, or out of necessity as a child perpetually ignored, she did like observing people as they were. Who they talked to. How they talked to them. The body language. What faces they made when that person turned away. It was all fascinating.

She had to look away from the concern on Hannah's face, not wanting to address why it's there. She's aware of the frenzied, almost feverish intensity to her behavior, all in an effort to avoid the tangle of conflicting emotions and thoughts from the recent seemingly never-ending insanity. But she's grateful Hannah doesn't push her on it, instead knowing she needs a distraction.

"What say you to a stargazing picnic on the country club golf course? Only some mild breaking and entering would be involved. Not even any breaking, really. More like climbing a fence and entering."

She's still worried, of course she is, because this behavior could get dangerous quickly. This could escalate. But if it does, it's better for Hannah to be there to catch Tinley if she falls. And it's not like Hannah is above a little petty crime. Breaking and entering used to be one of her best skills. This was nothing but a little harmless fun.

But as she looks at the shards of pink glass scattered across the floor and Hannah's growing distress, she recognizes that this is about more than her. She won't make this worse by getting upset in return. Instead, she takes a calming breath.

"Hannah, I'm not trying to gain anything from you. I don't expect anything from you. I can tell you're upset, and I just want to help. Please." It's not entirely true. She does want something from Hannah: for her to like her, but she won't admit that out loud.

So, she behaves heartlessly. Because it feels worse when her cruelty is met with kindness. If she's the only person upset, then she's completely lost.

"Why? Why in the world do you want to help? Because you want me to like you?"

She throws her hands in the air, an angry, defeated gesture.

The friendship with Hannah had been marred by that indirectness. Lots of working together, lots of coffees and lunches where they talked about their days, their dreams, their issues... And then things just fizzled out. Was it totally Leticia's fault? Maybe she'd been too pushy—something Leticia never owned up to.

Hannah didn't seem annoyed to see her now though, quite the opposite. Leticia had just been coming down the stairs out of work, legs feeling the weight of the day.

"Sure, I've got a little time," Actually, Leticia never had free time, but she was considering other options now, "Want to go for a drink?"

"Even though I know you're lying about actually having the time." Her tone is light, non-accusatory. It's not something that seems to bother her. Leticia's ambition and tunnel vision was never something that Hannah felt was a flaw. That was just part of making one's way in the world. Resting wasn't really an option. And downtime was something stolen, not something naturally gained. And knowing that Leticia was stealing it for her meant something to her, even if she was certain she didn't deserve all that.

She walks closer to her, slowing her steps as she traces the mental map in her mind to figure out where the closest place to grab a drink with her would be. And how much she could get away with drinking before her lips got loose and said something she shouldn't have. And then once she has it in her mind, muscle memory has her wrapping an arm around Leticia's own, intending to lead them both there. It feels like too much skinship for how little they've spoken to one another, and also too little for how much they used to speak to one another. It's odd.

Customers weren’t so hard to deal with, perhaps because Mercury knew the majority of them (and if ey didn’t know, the stall owner typically did). The stall wasn’t a very aesthetic affair, too bad ey weren’t here earlier else ey would’ve fixed that. Still, much of the stall had fruits, jams and seeds. A pretty wide selection at that, Mercury was almost jealous. 

There was a quiet period as the stall owner took a break and Mercury officially took over (for, like, ten minutes max). A tad bit boring but ey’d manage and… Well, well, if we don’t have a lost soul. Perfect.

“Hello there, ma’am. In the mood to buy our winter seasonals? I didn’t grow these, the boss right there,” ey pointed behind em towards the stall owner, “did. Buuuut, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

Ey leaned in, a hand obscuring eir mouth from the side as if ey truly was revealing some scandalous secret. Maybe eir dramatics would be appreciated. 

Out of sheer habit she takes a step back, both hands tucking their way into her pockets to make sure her keys and wallet were secured. Her eyebrows furrow slightly at the person who approached her, trying to analyze them and see what kind of threat they potentially pose. Not that she thinks she'll be attacked by some random individual at a farmer's market or anything, but it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

When Mercury leans in, she leans back, eyebrows raising slightly at the sales pitch. It was charming, she'd admit. But how is she supposed to know what's good and what's not without some kind of demonstration?

Silence for long, long stretches as they drove up into the snowy coast of Godscobh. Maybe Hannah was embarrassed about her outburst while drunk. But why should she be? Elinor had always made it clear they'd do nothing but help and not ask questions. Well, maybe there was just something they didn't understand. There was always something they didn't understand about Hannah. The way she reacted so strongly to things, the way she cut herself off from others.

"You don't have to apologize," Elinor didn't like having to say forgiving words. They just wanted this period of uncertainty to be over, "I was just... confused. Never seen you like this before."

She sighs, heavy and pressing, watching the windshield wipers struggle to scrape the snow off the windshield. The defroster is working overtime, and it still barely does anything. She releases the steering wheel intentionally, crossing her arms overtop of it and laying her head down on top of those. A small stacking of a wobbly, unreliable woman.

Elinor was good. Elinor was a good person. But that is precisely what makes Hannah so upset with herself. She wants to keep this friendship. She wants to maintain this relationship. She wants to keep them around, and be someone that Elinor felt was worth keeping around too.

"All of this stupid mess is my own fault. And you just want to help. All you've ever done is help. You're owed so much more than you even know how to ask for. I'm just having some kind of weird, unprecedented mental break where things I could deal with perfectly fine are suddenly completely unbearable."