the filmmaker.

ZEV KING - THE FILMMAKER.

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Although it was definitely a plight for Zev, Donny would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad Zev had been forced into the H.A.H. Up until Zev had ‘joined,’ Donny had felt like the one little fish in a huge pond. He was always the salmon, trying to swim upstream. He was always trying to fight the current – because what other choice did he have? Then Zev came along and, finally, there were two little fish; finally, someone else was trying to swim upstream; finally, someone else was battling against the current. It wasn’t so lonely – and it wasn’t so… demeaning – with Zev. He didn’t feel inferior. He didn’t feel lesser. All he felt was different than. Because Zev wasn’t inferior, and Zev wasn’t lesser – Zev was just different than the others. And in a way that Donny related to. “Here’s the trick: throw out all of your socks and replace them with a hoard of black ones. You never have to worry about mismatching!” He hiked his pants up, just enough to reveal his socks, which were, indeed, black. “Just find a way out of golfing and you’re all set.” It was only in slight jest. Yes, Donny had more socks than just repetitive black… but they made up the majority of his wardrobe and the majority of his fancy event outfits. It was no wonder they always said ‘[x] is the new black’ – black really did go with basically everything! Now they just had to hope there wouldn’t be another all white party. Donny responded with a short, teasing salute. Then, as if on a genuine mission, he held a finger up to his mouth – a ‘hush’ – and gestured towards the nearest cheese plate. A motion to it with his forearm, crouching down to avoid Mr. Everest’s stare, sneaking over to it. Look both ways! Totally unnoticed, he slipped his hands underneath the cheese tray and carried it atop his palm, as if he were a caterer… just in case he was stopped – you know, he was very deep in his role now.  “Mission complete.”

📹

Just the mere mention of golfing sent a shiver up Zev’s spine. Thirteen years a member of the elite of Cherry, and he had yet to be invited golfing. Donny’s mention of it only reminded him that looming over him always was the threat of being expected to golf. He needed to get the hell out of this world before that became his reality. Zev King? Golfing?!

As their mission began, Zev followed close behind his friend. As they walked, he kept his eyes peeled for any potential guests coming to try to have a conversation with one of them. He had a plan for getting out of that too, of course. Just pull Donny into a conversation of their own, lean their heads close like they were discussing something private. That usually discouraged other interactions. As silly and low-stakes as it all was, it felt just a bit exhilarating. Pretending to be spies or secret agents was something he would have done as a kid after seeing a Bond movie with his mom. It was fun to do it now, with Donny, as opposed to alone just trying to sneak an extra bit of dessert without Jillian noticing.

As the other boy grabbed the cheese plate, Zev summoned all the grace he had within him to quickly swipe two flutes of champagne. “Mission complete,” he echoed. “Well, not quite. We’ve gotta make it through the crowds to your room first.”

Turns out there was one good thing about the forced attendance of some snobby Christmas party. People watching. Between stolen moments with the Gang, she was watching the elite of Cherry socialise like she was a scientist outside the rat cage. Entertaining? Duh. Educational and useful? The jury was still out on that one. Still, not even the most fascinating of observations could make Freyja ignore the way that the lady now next to her had sprayed way too much perfume. Instead of sneezing on this woman’s dress and becoming the next ‘oh em gee’ story, or letting her succeed in her efforts to gas her out, Freyja retreated to the backyard. Peace and quiet, and the very best part, no parents. Just as they were probably celebrating being child-free for a few hours, there was a rejoice that came with unsupervised freedom.

The flute of champagne held out to her was the first thing to catch her attention. The wait for some comment about looking like she needs one or telling her to lighten up cut short by Zev’s familiar voice. Instead of rolling her eyes at the new company, Freyja’s lips curl up into a smile as she takes the glass from him. “Oh Zev, my hero.” Though the words were filled with faux flattery, the kind gesture behind something as simple as sharing wasn’t lost on her. “Your bravery and perseverance don’t go unnoticed. A feat for the history books, I’m sure.” The glass slightly tilted towards Zev to motion cheers before she followed suit, taking her own sip. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all night. The killer could be some stranger who sneaks into their party dressed as Santa, but no one realises they don’t know him because of the costume. All the fake beard and padding, y'know? That, and their own self-obsession meaning they aren’t paying attention to their peers or surroundings.”

📹

“They’ll tell stories about my sacrifice for generations to come,” he joked, finally settling into the ease of being outside. As he spoke, he felt parts of him relax that he hadn’t even realized he was tensing. His posture shifted, he felt his jaw unclench. Sure, it wasn’t as warm out here as it was in the house, but his cardigan seemed to be enough for now and at a certain point it was hard to distinguish a nice warmth from the claustrophobic heat of a bunch of people packed into a room.

“Man, I should have brought my notebook,” he remarked. “I’m just gonna commit this all to memory and hope it doesn’t completely slip my mind after tonight,” he tapped the side of his head to emphasize his point. “Ooh, okay, depending on where the holiday party is we could have some fun with kills like maybe he doesn’t even bring a weapon with him. Just, y’know, bashing people over the head with a candelabra, or an empty hors d'oeuvres tray... smashing bottles of champagne... fun stuff.”

❤️‍🔥

“Oh my god, that was like five years ago. We get it, Diane! You lost your Cartier watch that was fake anyway.” Man, she hated Diane. And Larry. And Crystal. And pretty much everyone that worked in the office. They were all a bunch of suck-ups, gunning for promotions they’d never get and whispering about how Elaine, Harvey, and Danny would ruin the company one day out of jealousy. Sure, they were all nepotism babies- but they’d been putting in the work since they were born, goddammit! “It’s Crystal’s own fault for picking that guy. She should have thought about it a little harder before she married for money. Our hypothetical future children Zev Jr. and Augusta would be beautiful,” not that she was ever planning to take this thing that far, “Evelyn has already started making room in the photo album.” 

📹

“Andrew bought her a new one right away, too. Like, get over it.” He was sick of all of these people and their petty problems. Just a few more years until he graduated, a few more years until he finally made a break for it. At least, that’s what he told himself. He said that in high school too, but here he was, still in Cherry. Still attending these parties, still interning at the office, still pretending to be Elaine’s boyfriend. “Fair enough. Oh, Zev Jr. and Augusta would be beautiful, smart, well-behaved,” he shot a glance towards a group of kids (he’s pretty sure at least one of them is Crystal’s) fighting over an action figure while their nannies tried desperately not to trip over themselves as they wrangled them. “Perfect little angels,” he joked. “I can see it now, my mom photographing every second of their lives... oh, our family Christmas cards would blow everyone else’s out of the water. No contest.”

Zev often felt like his life, his Self, was scattered in bits and pieces all around Cherry. Rory and his mother held his childhood in their memories, the Hargroves had the part of him that could lie. Freyja and Noah had his morbidity and all his half-baked movie ideas. Elaine held a secret for him, and he, in turn, held one for her. It was part of why he couldn’t fully commit to leaving Cherry. He didn’t know how to take those parts of him back from everyone else, didn’t know how to put them all into one full person. He’d built a life on compartmentalizing, on keeping track in his head of who knew what. Being at these big parties with everyone around made his head spin.

Finding Alice over by the food was a relief. She held an interesting position in the complicated web of Zev’s life, but one that didn’t really complicate their friendship. It was easy to be friends with Alice, even when it seemed like the world was crashing down around them. “Ooh, no, don’t grab one of those,” he gestured towards the baked good she was reaching for. “I think Crystal was trying to prove something to everyone this year by actually making her own food to bring but uh... well, there’s a reason their nanny doubles as a personal chef.”

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“I don’t know, man. I think Mr. Everest probably has some really great tips for staying in shape! He’s had so many spiritual awakenings.” Now, to his credit: even if it had been with many, many, many guides – and even if it had been with the biggest ego in the world – the man had summited one scary mountain. Nonetheless, comfortable with the bit around Zev – enough to actually say more than a few words, but not ramble on and on and on – Donny had no plans of letting up until it really tired out.  That familiar fondness crept into Donny’s eyes as Zev hiked his pants up, a brief moment of light panic setting in. What could Donny say? At his most heterosexual, he would say Zev was endearing! Putting a hand to his chest in feigned insult, he replied with that same transatlantic accent, “Why, us Hollys have been trained to match our socks from birth! I should hope you don’t think us barbarians.” Then, nodding his head and tone returning back to normal, he hushed his tone and continued, “I’ll start bringing a spare pair of matching socks to these things – just in case.” “A whole cheese plate.” If you give a mouse a cheese plate… A genuine smile brought back to his features, he continued, “Worst comes to worst, one of us has to take one for the team and get wrapped up in conversation.” But that was the good thing about being second sons, right? They were also second choices. They could skirt by unnoticed, play into their own invisibility. “I definitely think it’ll be just as spiritual as Mr. Everest’s experience becoming one with the mountain.”

📹

Their silly transatlantic accent impressions brought to mind nights spent in Zev’s room: he, Donny, and usually Rory in a blanket fort, eating popcorn and watching old movies on Zev’s VHS player. He always called them up when he got his hands on a new one. You’ve never seen Sunset Boulevard? Vertigo? Rope? Get the hell over here! We’ve got popcorn, we’ve got hot cocoa, we’ve got chocolate covered pretzels. He wished they were there now, where matching socks didn’t matter, where he didn’t have to tuck in his shirt and wear an ugly tie, where he didn’t have to pretend. “Ah, that must be it. The H.A.H-es get trained from birth to match their socks! I’m 13 years behind you all, be kind while I catch up.”

He was joking, but it did often feel that way. He felt like a newborn horse, fresh to the world but still expected to walk on wobbly legs. He didn’t want to fit in, it didn’t feel right. The starched shirts and polos chafed his skin and the fake smiles he was obliged to give people cracked his face. If he was a stronger man, maybe he would have continued his rebellions, maybe he would have kept putting his feet up on the coffee table, maybe he would have run away from home. But without Jillian, what did he have? Without his friends, still home in Cherry, where would he go? He used to fantasize about Los Angeles, or New York. But without the Hargrove bank account, how would he go to college? And without film school, what would he be doing? So, he stayed. Stayed in the Hargrove home, stayed in Cherry, stayed at his internship. One day, he’d be free. One day, he’d make it to LA and make movies. Until then, his friends were his saviors, his refuge.

“I think if we stick together, our combined power to be sort of overlooked combines to complete invisibility,” he remarked, gesturing around to the room of people who now seemed to have no interest in the two young men standing off to the side. They were sore thumbs on their own, obvious in how much they didn’t belong. Together? They fit together, fading into the background. “If we sneak over together, we can probably get away without another Everest distraction.”

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Further proof that Zev had always been the one saving grace of the gatherings? He had someone to laugh about it with. He did not have to suppress a laugh over Mr. Everest Hawaii’s description of his exploits. Any other H.A.H. child or member? It would be greatly stifled… even though he knew that almost all of them were thinking the same thing. They all had to save face, right? Not around Zev. He could be an open book with the other guy! They could laugh about the shenanigans with each other and not worry about getting caught – a benefit of being the younger ones. “I’m a little surprised none of them have dipped into essential oils yet. – Granted, they might get them confused with actual oil and go invade a country so they can go drill for some relaxation, you know?” He could see it now: board member wants lavender oil, sends underpaid workers to go drill for it in Iran.  Elaine and Zev – he forgot about that every now and again. When they were swept up in conversation, when it was just the two of them in that crowded room, he simply forgot. But, drawn back into reality, that didn’t mean he couldn’t respect. Although there was a hint of disappointment every time he remembered – every time he was reminded – it was for the best. And even if it weren’t? They still deserved the respect any other couple would get. They still deserved to make their own decisions and not lose friends – who were too nervous to even say anything – over it. It was a funny tidbit, though, prompting another laugh – albeit, slightly more subdued. “Your socks are matching tonight, right? I won’t tell her if they’re not.”  “Gee, and I was hoping we’d get our very own spiritual awakenings tonight!” Of course, the heart and soul of the mountain was in the very same room as them! They could just ask him for a spiritual awakening and they would definitely get one. “There are a couple of ‘off-limits’ rooms around here. But, as an esteemed Holly, I can grant access,” he replied, tone overly formal. Total joke that he’d be the first or second or even third Holly to ask permission to enter XYZ room with, but… hey, it was his house, too! “We can probably steal a whole cheese plate without anyone noticing.”

📹

“Oh god, I would not trust any health advice from anyone here, truly,” he laughed at the idea of one of his coworkers wives trying to get him to buy some sort of health tea. The worst part was it probably wasn’t far off. There was at least one woman constantly trying to get Jillian to join her working for Amway. Thank god Jillian’s already a girlboss.

“Are my socks matching tonight?” He asked, mostly to himself, realizing he hadn’t actually checked. “Dude, don’t scare me,” he hiked his pant legs up slightly to expose... matching socks! “Oh, thank god. I was literally about to ask to trade socks with you. I’m assuming your socks are matching. If you need someone to make sure your socks are always matching, I’ll be your guy. Well, that is, if I remember to make sure my socks are matching.”

“A whole cheese plate? Mr. Holly, you spoil me!” Zev brought his hand to his chest in faux shock at Donny’s generosity. “Getting away from all these people, eating a whole cheese plate, and maybe getting a couple of flutes of champagne in will be enough of a spiritual experience for me. We can do some yoga if that’ll help.” Yoga? Drunk and full of cheese? Okay, Zev, if you’re sure.

❤️‍🔥

Elaine’s smile is wide enough for someone to gush about ‘how beautiful of a couple’ they were, and the kiss she plants on his cheek is enough to send the message that she’s not in the mood to talk. “Oh my god, you have perfect timing. Larry was two seconds away from starting his quarter-behind-the-ear routine, I could see it in his eyes.” Elaine had felt like a bobblehead all night, nodding and smiling as tipsy office workers’ stories poured in one ear and out the other. “God, I wish I knew- I’d say we should stage a lovers’ quarrel, but I think that’d be a bigger headache in the long run” the annoyance in her voice is obvious, despite her hushed tone, “I swear to god if Crystal’s new baby is half as ugly as the other ones, I’m gonna have to tell her- we can’t all keep enabling her like this. It can’t be healthy.” 

📹

“God, if only you’d been around to save me from Diane telling the same losing her bags on the trip to Spain story she’s told me probably a hundred times,” he spoke through his grinning teeth, a trick he’d all but mastered over the course of his relationship with Elaine. Being able to look like you were a sweet, happy couple while actually bitching about everyone around you was essential. “Honestly, I feel kinda bad for Crystal. It’s not her fault that apparently her husband’s... less than ideal genes are clearly dominant. This’ll be kid number... four? God, their nanny deserves a raise.” Zev scanned the room as he stood beside her. Someone, somewhere was watching them, that was a given. Elaine’s parents, his parents, the damn Hollys. That was why they did this, but god did it get exhausting sometimes. “Ugh, no, let’s wait for something extreme to stage a spat. I can survive a holiday party.” 

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Zev was the one shining light Donny had at all of the H.A.H events – dare Donny say that he made them… fun? There were definitely people who had made them tolerable in the past, but Zev went beyond that. He always went beyond. Even if he hadn’t been born into the wealth of the Hargroves, even if he was not the biological son of the great Harvard Hargrove II (treated more like a second-cousin from what Donny had observed), he – much like Donny – had been forced into a suit and tie, forced to play the part of the good secondary son. It was a role neither of them fully belonged in, but what would protesting do? Donny had grown up as that son, grown up in that role; Zev may have simply been assigned it, but what had he learned since? “Mt. Everest, yep.” Donny could believe it with the amount of guides he said he had had (and, to his credit, how often he seemed to train), but no pictures? Nothing to show off? That wasn’t very rich-person of him! (But the humble bragging totally was.) “Apparently he even had a spiritual awakening! Something about hypothermia and the clouds…” By that point, Donny had completely tuned out. Hearing about an accomplishment? Cool! Hearing the person whose accomplishment it was drone on and on in the most pretentious manner without letting the other party get a word in edgewise? …Not cool. “Of course… Did he see his reflection in the inactive lava or something? See his mirror self staring back?” “I don’t know if I’ve ever met an Archer who doesn’t hold onto grudges. Don’t get me wrong, Elaine is nice!” – though they weren’t particularly close. “The others, though…” A different story. “Actually, maybe we should target Mr. Everest! Then you’ll be free from his conversation shackles.”

📹

“Oh, he said something about feeling the spirit of the island beneath his feet or whatever. Honestly, I kinda stopped listening,” Zev let out a chuckle. “At a certain point, all these dumb stories start blending together into one big mystical bag of nonsense, y’know?” Mt. Everest, Hawaii, the woman who gave him the business card for the absolutely divine spa experience she had? All one and the same, really. 

“I think ‘grudges’ are on their family crest,” he joked. “It’s like a skill they have to learn, or something. They get trained in it. Elaine’s pretty good at it too, don’t let her fool you. I wore mismatched socks out to dinner with her once thinking no one would see and for like, 2 weeks straight she literally told me to check my socks every time we went out. She can be... a handful, sometimes. Hush, hush, though. If she knew I was complaining, I’d be in the doghouse for sure.” The casual heterosexuality he tried to pick up from rom-coms didn’t flow off his tongue quite as smoothly as the stars of all Jillian’s favorite films, but at least he was trying.

“Y’know, usually I’d take any excuse to get out of here, but we’re a little far from Mt. Everest and I’m not exactly into environmental terrorism. I would be down to try and sneak some drinks, maybe a plate of snacks, and find somewhere for us both to hide from anymore potentially exhausting conversations. I mean, who’s really gonna miss us, right?” 

It took Zev a little longer than his unattached friends to make his way out to the Holly’s backyard. First he had to inconspicuously remove himself from his stepfather’s line of sight, then he had to politely get out of meaningless conversations with people who recognized him from the office but whose names he could not remember for the life of him. By the time he’d made it successfully to the spread of food and drinks he was already exhausted. Not so exhausted that he couldn’t sneakily grab two champagne flutes and make a dash for the back door, though. He hadn’t intended to find anyone in particular, just to escape from the world inside the house, with all its expectations and falsehoods. It would be infinitely more comfortable to spend time with almost anyone out in the yard, and he figured that inherent comfort was worth a glass of champagne.

Freyja’s face was the first he spotted and he made a beeline for her, holding out the second flute of champagne when he arrived. “Congrats, I braved the depths of the holiday party and intend to share the treasure with you,” he joked, taking a sip from the glass he’d carried for himself. “I had to tell no less than 3 people that this was actually non-alcoholic sparkling apple cider. I really thought this one nosy guy who I always see at the copier at work was going to take it from me and test it. Anyway, what do we think about Holiday Party Massacre for the next film? Unrelated, of course.”

who: @thezevking​ what: donny tries to get to zev but gets interrupted by a rich prick first :-\ where: holly holiday party :-\

Even if he was not one of the Hollys that everyone was looking for ( no, in order of importance, that would be his father, shortly followed by his mother, shortly followed by Danny… with Donny there at the way way way way way end ! ), Donny would be damned if he hadn’t had his best stiff smile on. Nod and wave to everyone, answer any questions, talk when prompted to talk. Yada yada yada. The usual drill when there were guests to schmooze with in the Holly household! A man ( he wants to say… maybe one of the Archers ? ) stops by for a brief second, gets Donny nodding and smiling and pretending to follow along with some half-hearted hums and ‘uh-huh, yeah!’ - See, the great thing about being amongst such a rich crowd ? He knew from experience that rich folks liked talking about themselves way more than anything else ! ‘Yes sir, your charity work was amazing. You definitely outdid Mr. So-And-So!’ – and they were happy ! But, god… once they got on the topic of themself… there was no getting back ! Thus, great reprieve came when Donny spotted Zev just over the man’s shoulder. A quick apology, a quick ‘we’ll have to circle back to this!’ (because it was just sooooo interesting), a big ol’ smile and a firm handshake later… Donny managed to break from the one-sided conversation, marching towards Zev, head downward as if the man would pop up again at any moment and spring to attack !  SAFE. “Have you, uh… ever gotten trapped in a conversation with him?” he asked with a slight chuckle, nodding towards the man who had moved onto his new victim like a damn shark. “I’m a little disappointed that he doesn’t have pictures of himself summiting Mt. Everest in his wallet. It’s like, you know, if you’re gonna talk about it that much, you should definitely be showing us some pictures, right? Of him and his hoard of guides who he was really the one guiding since the mountain just spoke to him! A total spiritual experience! He was Mt. Everest!” And he was rambling… though, to be fair, everything he had just spouted ? They had almost been said verbatim by the man ! Nonetheless…  A beat, he shook his head with what could be a sheepish grin. What a silly goose! “So…” a moment to catch his breath… “is this year holding up to last year?”

📹

Zev hated these events. It was bad enough living with the Hargroves, working at the H.A.H office twice a week, and being Elaine’s ‘boyfriend’ and de facto date to galas and fancy dinners. Add holiday parties on top of it all? When was a guy supposed to live his own life? Thank god for Donny Holly. He was often the only thing that made any of this bearable. When they were young and Zev was being plunged headfirst into this world, he’d wrongfully assumed that Donny was just like the rest of them. Stuck up, annoying, self-centered. Now, he can’t imagine ever applying any of those words to his friend. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The boys saw each other at almost the exact same time, Donny looking over the shoulder of a man he was trapped in conversation with and Zev scanning the area for anyone familiar. When they locked eyes, Zev grinned, half out of genuine happiness to see his friend and half in a teasing good luck getting out of that conversation, buddy. 

“Him?” He asked, craning his neck to see exactly who Donny had been talking to “Oh, god, yeah. Mt. Everest this time? Last time, he was telling me about hiking up an inactive volcano in Hawaii or something. I wanted to tell him it’s not as fun if the volcano is inactive but you know how he is. If you manage a single word in it’s a miracle.” Turning his attention back towards his friend, Zev offered him a fully genuine smile this time. “I don’t know, man. Last year I dropped an hors d'oeuvre on one of the Archer cousins’ dresses and she flipped out. It was honestly pretty funny and I truly don’t think she’s forgiven me yet. Until I permanently ruin someone else’s impression of me, this year won’t be complete.”

Wearing these stupid clothes and going to these stupid parties were never going to get easier, were they? Zev did his best to bob and weave through the crowd, trying to avoid conversations with people he already didn’t want to talk to when he was at the internship and had to. He wasn’t as graceful when he wasn’t on his skateboard, though, and the brand new shoes he’d barely broken in weren’t helping. After successfully oh, you look lovely, happy holidays-ing his way out of 3 or 4 boring conversations, he finally spotted Elaine’s familiar face and made his way over to her.

“Hey, wow, don’t you look marvelous tonight!”, he spoke probably louder and just slightly more exaggeratedly than he needed to, taking both her hands in his until he felt the eyes of Brenda from the front desk (who he’d just narrowly avoided conversation with) leave the back of his head. “Okay, how long, legally, do I actually need to stay here, do you think?” His exaggerated tone immediately dropped as he dropped her hands to glance at his watch. “Follow up question, is there a way for me to actually get to the drinks without having to listen to people from the office talk about how cute their kids look on the family Christmas card?”