Ilya finds an odd picture of Shane in a photo album at one point. He's maybe three, he's sitting on the massive purple sofa that Ilya has discovered the Hollanders owned when Shane was born. He's frowning, red-cheeked and he's got a strange plastic case on his thumb.
"Yuna," he says, shifting his elbows on the table to point at it. "What is this on his hand? Was broken?"
Shane's head snaps up from across the table, where he's pretending that Photo Album Time is very boring to him and not worth paying attention to. He hasn't scrolled on the article he's pretending to read for over five minutes.
"I never broke a bone as a kid," he says, brows furrowed. "Not until U13, when that fucking kid from Guelph--"
Yuna and Shane both inhale quickly through their noses in what Ilya has learned to recognize as a moderative measure, lest they start yelling about something that everyone else on Earth has forgotten about.
"No," Yuna says, once her face looks a little less intense. "No, it wasn't broken. It was this...contraption that the dentist gave us to correct his thumb-sucking. He was so mad about it, we only put it on him a few times."
"Oh, Jesus," Shane mutters, eyes going back to his phone.
"Aw," Ilya says. "Poor baby Shane." He taps his finger against one little red cheek and laughs. "You really do look so mad, sweetheart. How did you make him stop?"
"Hmm...you know, I don't remember," Yuna sighs, tilting her head. "I guess he just stopped by himself eventually. Do you remember, Shane?"
"No," Shane says, shortly.
"Of course, that didn't get rid of the oral fixation," Yuna sighs, adjusting her reading glasses as she flips the page. "The things you used to chew on, Shane. Pens and straws and--"
"Mom," Shane snaps, while Ilya vibrates beside him. "Can we not?"
"I was afraid to give him popsicles because I thought he would gnaw on the sticks until he got a splinter in his stomach."
"Mom!"
"Well, honey, it's true! And you did outgrow it eventually, so it's not as if you have to be embarrassed."
"Mm. Excuse me." Ilya stands from the table and sweeps out onto the back porch, though the sliding door does nothing to prevent the sound of his guffaws from floating back into the kitchen.
"You know," Yuna says, "I'm just going to assume that this is some kind of language barrier thing--"
sobbing thinking about ilya out clubbing with some old teammates or w/e but shane stays home and ilya pulls out his phone later on in the night to a voice note from shane like "hey baby i hope youre having fun with your friends. im heading to bed but ive left the door unlocked for you and your robe on the towel heater and water on your side of the bed with some painkillers for the morning just in case. tell cliff hi from me. i love you. good night." and ilyas got tears in his eyes already ordering an uber telling his friends i need to leave right now immediately i need my husband
ilya is the person who makes such a big deal about coming out and is hyping everyone up and talking about how crazy the night is gonna be and then he irish goodbyes within 15 mins of actually being at the club because shane sent him a picture of his book on the coffee table with the caption âMy evening :)â
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
Frank's just put his Red Bull to his lips when Dana speaks. Itâs the first thing that she's said to him since his shift started - she didnât even say good morning when he came in, though that's probably because he was fifteen minutes late since he had to drop Tanner off at kindergarten first. He holds his can in place for a second, wonders what about the relatively silent ED and uncharacteristically calm morning inspired her question, and then takes a sip so he doesnât seem suspicious.
"What do you mean?" he asks, equally unsuspiciously, after he's swallowed.
"You heard me. She's always grabbing your arm, touching your shoulder... Hell, I think I saw her pick an eyelash off your cheek last week."
"It was dust," he corrects. "And - why do you care? What's the problem with letting her touch me?"
Dana gives him a look.
"What?"
"You know what the problem is," she says, then jerks her head towards the ring on his finger. "It's not fair, Frank. You getting her hopes up - it's not fair."
"Getting her -" He follows her around to the other side of the nurse's station and leans in close while she casually sorts through some discharge papers. "I'm not getting her hopes up about anything,â he explains. âShe's my friend. We're friends. I'm not gonna be the asshole that asks her to stop touching me when sheâs excited or whatever, especially since I'm not..." His eyes flick to his ring finger, and he tucks his hand into his pocket. "I'm not doing anything wrong."
"Really?"
He leans in closer to make sure no one - especially not Perlah and Princess - overhear. "She knows about the divorce; she knows I only wear my ring to keep the others off my back."Â
"Thatâs my point. You don't think it's wrong that the two of you are acting like a pair of monkeys picking fleas off each other when you just got divorced from your college sweetheart?â
âIt's lice,â he corrects.
âCâmon, Frank, thatâs a mean thing to call your ex-wife.â
âDana.â
âI was joking, kid. And Iâm just trying to look out for you. For both of you.â She looks up at him from behind her glasses. âYouâre not in the right headspace to get into something new.â
âWeâre just friends.â She raises an eyebrow. He hates when she does that - when she knows something he doesnât, or at least acts like she does. âWhat?â
Dana looks across the room. Frank follows her gaze. Within a second heâs spotted Mel in the corner, pointing at her phone and talking animatedly about whatever's on it with Dr. Al-Hashimi, who unsurprisingly isn't even pretending to give a shit. The sight of it makes him frown. When he turns back to Dana, sheâs mirroring his expression.
âYou donât think maybe she has a bit of a crush on you?â she asks.
His first instinct is to laugh. Not only because heâs the last person on Earth that a woman like Mel would have a crush on, but because he doesnât know if sheâs ever had a crush on anyone. She never realizes when patients are flirting with her - which happens a lot - and the times that Frank points it out afterwards, she always wrinkles her nose and shakes her head like the thought of being flirted with, regardless of the person, is enough to ick her out. If she had a crush on anyone, he would know about it. And it definitely wouldnât be him.
âI think I'm just her best friend,â he answers.
Dana snorts. âYeah, and no other relationshipâs ever started out that way.âÂ
As if on cue, he hears footsteps approaching and turns in time to see Mel appear at his side with her phone in her hand. âFrank! Um, do you remember - that new vegetarian place, the one opening down the street from me that I was telling you about -â
âMeet-Cuke?â
âYes, yes, Meet-Cuke, thatâs it! And - do you remember when I said that they were opening next month? Well, it turns out that we had that conversation a month ago, which means theyâre opening on Wednesday!â
âWow, really?â
âTime flies when youâre havinâ fun,â Dana mutters. Frank turns to glare at her. âWhat?â
âAre you free after work this week?â Without giving him time to answer, Mel squeezes into the space between him and the nurseâs station and starts flipping through her schedule. âI have volleyball on Thursday, but maybe we can go FridayâŠ?â
âUhhh..." He clears his throat and tries to focus on her screen instead of the fact that her back is pressed up against his chest. "How about this. Itâs gonna be super busy the first couple weeks, right?â
âOh, yeah, it might beâŠâÂ
âAnd they probably have a ton of reservations booked already. So letâs goâŠâ He points at one of the few dates in her monthly calendar that doesnât already have a colour-coded scheduling block on it. âThen. After work.â
âWhy then?âÂ
âWell, itâll have been open for a few weeks at that point; a liittle bit of the hype will have died down, but theyâll still be working hard to impress us. Plus, itâs a Monday, so they wonât be super packed.â
âSounds like a plan!â She clicks on the date, selects an orange colour block (which is the colour she uses for ânon-spontaneous hang-outs and other social plansâ, according to her), and types out âDinner with Frank at Meet-Cukeâ with five green hearts, two blue hearts, and a cucumber emoji. He feels bad about reading over her shoulder, but is pretty sure she wouldâve done a better job at hiding her phone if she didnât want him reading it.Â
âAhhhâm so exciiiteeeed!â she exclaims as she spins around to look at him. âI canât wait!â
âYeah.â Despite how close theyâre standing and despite the fact that he can still feel fucking Dana staring daggers into him, he smiles. âYeah, me too.â
Mel pats his shoulder, then his bicep, and then grins and claps a couple times before turning on her heel with one last excited âAh!â and skipping through the the ED. No, seriously, she skips at least a couple of steps before Santos gives her a look that makes her stop. Heâs still smiling as he watches her, though, and smiles even wider when she turns over her shoulder to give him one last round of happy applause.
âYouâre taking her to a restaurant named Meet-Cute and somehow Iâm the bad guy for suggesting there might be something between you two," Dana mutters.
Frank reaches for his Red Bull and downs the rest of it. âItâs Meet-Cuke,â he corrects afterwards as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.
âOh, yeah.â She rolls her eyes, grabs the can, and tosses it into the recycling bin behind her. âAnd that makes a world of difference.â
You don't have to know everything about your world but you DO have to justify in universe why the reader doesn't get answers to some things. I've seen this done well in two ways
1) the Ryland Grace method: MC would LOVE to know but they don't know so it's not important
2) the Murderbot method: MC literally does not care enough to know so it's definitely not important
Me @ 911 when they finally reveal to the team that Eddie has been bleeding out in the elevator and thereâs no reaction shot of Bucks face or anything:
ilya is very âyounger prince whose brother keeps trying to kill him to eliminate threats to his successionâ like i donât wanna say -coded itâs just a fact. irina threw herself out of some damn keep window to escape her husband the mad king now thereâs a sulky teenage princeling whose former nursemaid arranged to have him spirited away to live in a foreign land as a sellsword in order to save him from his brotherâs constant murder attempts.
