UNTOUCHABLE.

Eleanor  LOUISA HIRSCH TWENTY-EIGHT. ACTRESS. fifth grade spelling bee champion, dog mom.   she is a flower, but she isn't soft;   —when her petals fall, they hit like bullets. 

[jicknoncs]

[eleanorhirsch]

— FLYNN KHUMALO.

I feel the same way too. But does she? The question rings an alarm inside his mind, that same unscathed nervousness rising to the surface inside his already aching stomach. Finally, he turns, looking to her again. It’s harder than before and Flynn is never too sure what to do with this feeling. Usually, when any kind of unsteady emotion inhabits him, he goes to Eleanor. Because that’s what best friends did, they talked each other through their strangest or darkest moments. And yet this one continues to go unspoken and, in some cruel way, Flynn almost thinks to laugh. Mostly at how cliché they’ve become in such a short span of time. These feelings, this yearning, was something he assumed was only reserved for people much older, dreaming of the one that got away all those years ago. Though, Eleanor hasn’t gone away. She hasn’t faded into some distant memory that Flynn could only recognize in sleep. No, she was here, standing before him and speaking and looking up at him with the same pair of green eyes that makes him all mush on the inside. But he was too cowardly to seize the day or to take a step forward and solidify what they already knew. 

And he can’t even reply to her previous statements. The one about how he shot up one season in London and came back tall and lanky. He can’t even mention how she did too and she was suddenly snarkier than ever and it only made him like her more that one summer. He can’t cite these things because now all he can picture is everything that’s gone wrong in his life. His career, his hands, everything. All gone in a single blink and Eleanor could be just the same. Oh, don’t be ridiculous, is something his mother might say in response to his pessimistic cynicism. Her voice is clear as day inside his mind. Don’t be ridiculous.

“We won’t.” Flynn decides on, trying to muster the right words. He combs through every thought that comes to mind and nothing truly seems suitable. So, he reaches out to take Eleanor’s hand into his, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her knuckles. “I mean, we’ve gotten this far.” He jokes, a subtle smile gracing his expression. If you read between the lines, you could tell that it could easily come across as bittersweet. “You won’t lose me. At this point, you’re stuck with me and I think I’m stuck with you too.” It’s the one vital truth in this situation, the notion that they were truly stuck to one another like glue. At least that much Flynn could admit, even if the rest goes unsaid, as it often did.

“What if we went somewhere? Like a trip.” He proposes, tearing his gaze from their hands and to Eleanor’s face again. “We can do what all those annoying Instagram celebrities do and have a staycation somewhere near LA or something. And we can go to the beach and race and do what we used to do together when I’d come from London.” Flynn’s head cants to the side, his smile growing a tad. “We can go clubbing too. I kinda miss our rebellious club phase.”

☆

Her throat turned dry, when Flynn finally spun around to face her. The unpredictability of their dynamic kept her on her toes — something Eleanor often enjoyed, if anything. But as years went by, she often felt control slipping through her fingers whenever she was in his company. Just like the conversation tonight, taking a turn to somewhere unexpected. The intensity rising between them that was unbearable, yet she couldn’t ignore all the same. She would use her fatigue as an excuse, that her mind was playing tricks with her because this man before her was someone that saw her at her best and worst, sharing laughter until their stomachs ached, or silent understanding when they were suffering. To have more, it would be a selfish request. One that could damage the foundation of their relationship in the matter of seconds. With their bickering, that could all be salvaged. But this, whatever this stirring feeling in her stomach and the heaviness in her heart that surfaced whenever she was in his presence — it was a sacrifice needed to be made because just like she expressed mere moments ago, she could not lose them. It’d always been Eleanor and Flynn after all. 

Because the matter all came down to losing Robert, and her father in the past year already. Losing Flynn would another hard blow to her fragile heart, it would be the unimaginable because even the thought of it alone, at the surface, brought a pang of hurt into her chest. Which was the sole reason why Eleanor could not ruin the decades long of friendship together, no matter how her heart told her otherwise sometimes, daring her to indulge in the fantasy of what it would be like to be more with the man before her.

But as their skin touched, immediately pulling her back to the present, it left a trail of tingling feeling upon her skin. She wanted to roll her eyes at just how easily her body reacted to him. Once upon a time, she would’ve done as such, because she never experienced such sentiment, until Flynn came into her life. For a moment, it was all her hazel hues could focus on. The sensation brought her comfort and intensified the stirring feeling all the same, and Eleanor let out breath, that she didn’t know she was holding until his voice reached her ears again. “Good,” A tender smile curved upon her lips, finally daring herself to look up, meeting his gaze once again. “Well, I guess we’re both doomed, huh? But it’ll take a lot to break us.” Not really. A nagging voice in the back of her mind suddenly creeped up then. Not if she’d let the truth of her feelings escape right now.

Eleanor felt herself instantaneously perking up at his suggestion, her smile widening into a grin as he spoke, grateful for the sudden shift in conversation, distracting her from her own thoughts.  “You know, I’d love that. When was the last time we even went on a trip together? It must’ve been New York.” Every summer, whenever Flynn finally landed in the West Coast felt like a trip to her. Even if she didn’t leave Catalina, there was always an adventure waiting for them. When she grew older, she finally came to the realisation it wasn’t just their summer adventures that brought her thrill and excitement. It was simply the sole company of her best friend. Just Flynn. “Maybe somewhere away from LA? I could do with a break from disguises. So we can enjoy our time in peace. How about two weeks from now?” Then, a chuckle slipped from her lips, heat creeped up her cheeks at the memories of their clubbing days. “I’m down for that. I mean, nothing like getting sweaty and drunk, right? I still think it was all better when we were too young to do that. It’s the rebelling, I think. Are you sure you’re ready to hold my hair back again though?”

Just like that, the heaviness subsided, even if just a tad. Eleanor couldn’t help but stifle a faint yawn, but she realised she didn’t want to return to her empty home just yet. “If I’m not keeping you up, do you fancy a late night marathon of whatever that’s on the TV, or something?” Her head tilted to one side in question. “You know, just like old times.” 

[stydiaislove]

[lydiabeckett-deactivated2026041]

featuring: @eleanorhirsch.

[eleanorhirsch]

— FLYNN KHUMALO.

And just like that, they were back to the beginning. Sharing smiles and laughter, the way friends do. Best friends. It was like they saw right through one another or allowed each word and passing moment to plow right through them without a second glance. In one ear and out the other. 

Flynn can’t quite wrap his head around the next course of action, or around the feeling in his stomach that never seems to go away while in Eleanor’s presence. It was that same bout of fear that often brought him back from that questioning state. The daunting question of what if things don’t end well was enough for him to put those other feelings to rest.

Even so, he can’t help the way his expression falls when he turns, his face out of Eleanor’s view. He brings her gifts into the kitchen, resting the boxes onto the kitchen island near the stove. Listening to her talk keeps him at bay and helps him refrain from indulging in the nagging impulses that prick at his brain. “Oh, we can always find that out together. Remember when we used to race on the beach?” Flynn asks, once again enveloping by a childhood memory shared with her. “Maybe we can start doin’ that again. And maybe it’ll stop us from bickering like a fucking married couple.” Laughter laces through his words before he turns his attention to the milk on the stove, something he had completely forgotten about until now. It was beginning to bubble over, the smell of warm milk swallowing the space whole. “Shit,” The man mumbles under his breath, reaching from the pot and removing it from the burner. He reaches a hand over and shuts it off, releasing another laugh. “I was, um,” He motions with his hands before continuing, “taking my mother’s suggestion, to make warm milk because I couldn’t sleep.” Because, yes, he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep, just as she couldn’t, because all his thoughts consisted of her at all hours. And the nighttime made it worse, the image of her clear as day inside his mind as he attempted to drift to sleep. Flynn turns again, dumping the milk into the sick before turning on the faucet, watching as it turns into a strange mixture of milk and running water, dissolving into the drain before his eyes. “I just couldn’t sleep. You know the deal.” He decides on then, a nervous chuckle sounding from inside his throat. 

The faucet is turned off then, that same silence brewing between them once again. Flynn begs himself to speak, to say anything, but nothing really comes. He’s stuck standing there like an idiot, the sound of the drain gurgling the only thing keeping him grounded in the moment. And then, of course, there was still Eleanor. But she kept him grounded in the way that he didn’t want, in the way that could ruin everything between them. Years and years of friendship. Decades. What was it about tonight that was so close to sending him off the deep end? It had to be the lack of sleep, the kind that Flynn could feel within the back of his eyes. That heavy feeling. Like he could fade away at any moment. “You’re the most important person to me.” Flynn says, his back still to her. “I don’t think I’ll ever…have this with anyone else, you know?”

☆

With every argument passed, Eleanor sometimes wondered if they were both merely throwing a bandaid over a proverbial dam, the one that contained the overwhelming amount of thoughts and feelings regarding Flynn, that the brunette never allowed to escape from her lips. Perhaps that was why subsequent arguments felt worse than the prior, lacking reasons to why they surfaced in the first place. But returning to their normal dynamic overcame everything else, it eased the heaviness weighing on her chest in the past two weeks, even if the uneasy sensation lingered in her body whenever she was in his presence. 

But in present time, Ellie was stood in the familiar space of his kitchen, comfort washed over her all the same. More than the emptiness of her home could provide sometimes. Although it wasn’t necessarily where that was the matter in question, but rather, who was keeping her company. “Hey, it’s not fair that you shot up when you came back one summer, so you have the unfair advantage of being faster than me.” She complained, although smiling fondly at the memory nonetheless. She tittered, just briefly, at the mention of them acting like a married couple. The thought of it shot a strange feeling in her stomach, and she shook her head as “Warm milk, huh?” Amusement glinted over her eyes for a moment, as she watched Flynn manoeuvre around the kitchen. “You know, I think breakfast might have been your stronger suit.” She quipped. She would know, considering the number of times he cooked breakfast for her throughout their summers together. But when they returned the topic of what was causing their sleep deprivation, she merely nodded at his brief answer. “Me neither. Funny how it’s happening to both of us tonight.” Sometimes sleep just didn’t come for no reason, she’d know that, if the past year told her anything. But tonight in particular, it was due to Flynn, invading her mind, filling in the radio silence that lingered between them in the past two weeks.

Then a new form of silence fell between them again. Not the one that usually brought comfort to her whenever they were having sleepover at one another’s places when they were children, falling asleep after yet another failed attempt to stay awake. Something shifted in the air between them, and Ellie wondered if it was due to the lack of sleep they were both experiencing, or the paranoia in the back of her mind made her wonder if Flynn hadn’t totally forgiven her yet. But when his voice cut through the silence again, her heart lurched at his words. In that moment, the brunette was glad that her best friend had his back turned to her, as her mouth opened to attempt a respond, but nothing came. Slamming her mouth shut, she just stared into his back, wanting to unspool the thoughts that was running through his mind, to understand where this all came from. No one ever expressed such sentiment to her, and it took her by surprise at the seriousness of his tone. Hearing Flynn right now, it knocked the wind out of her lungs, as if daring for that proverbial dam to finally break free. 

A part of her wondered if this came from a place further than friendship.

But she had hold that thought, because the fear of losing Flynn was too much to indulge in what could unravel years of unresolved feelings.

“Flynn...” She trailed off, forcing her legs to finally function and moving closer to him. A hand reached out to him, but before she touched his skin, she halted and swallowed the lump in her throat, letting it fall by her side. This was all easier when he couldn’t see her, for she was afraid he would see right through her in a matter of seconds. “I know, I-I feel the same too.” With every word, Ellie had to remind herself — because he's your best friend. “Because what we have, it’s—” Something more. She paused, gathering her thoughts so she could articulate them into words, but it was never easy with the man before her. He always turned her thoughts into wildfire. “It’s confusing as fuck sometimes, but I just...I don’t want to lose it. I can’t lose you too. We won’t, right?” 

[eleanorhirsch]

— RORY HIRSCH.

In the past year or so they’ve all found themselves permanently residing in the island once more, the Hirsch family has found some sort of rhythm. Sure, the air during the dinners do not exude much pleasantry, but it isn’t entirely uncomfortable, either. In any case, Rory finds it worthy of merit that it had become something of an occasion to look forward to: talking about everyday things, airing their petty grievances with one another, while still adamant on dancing around the matters concerning them most. Still, as most family gatherings go, he considers this as something worth celebrating. 

That night had even felt more jovial with Adam around. It isn’t a surprise to find his mother doting on his son throughout the dinner; Adam is her only grandson after all, and he is all the more spoiled for it. Although, he supposes there’s only so much coddling a twelve-year-old boy can take before it gets far too overwhelming — so when Rory briefly catches Ellie and his son leave for the back porch while he’d stuck to make polite conversation, he can’t say he blames either of them. He supposes that by sticking around and bearing the brunt of the conversation, Ellie, too, owes him some sort of favor. Their mom’s desire for a grandchild and Ellie’s dating life at this point have become two fundamentally inseparable things. 

Rory eventually makes his leave, though, feigning an excuse about being due to bring his son back home to Rachel’s despite it still being fairly early. He’s certain his mother could see through his lie, yet he’s allowed to make his leave anyways as she realizes the moment, too, has passed. Opening the French doors leading to the back porch to pick up Adam, he is met with a curious sight altogether. His younger sister, with her head buried in her hands, and his son saying —

“Wait, what now?” 

His eyebrows furrowing together in wide alarm as he walks steadily to join them. Now that had seemed to quiet Adam down, because child though he may be, he isn’t nearly so young as not to understand the nature of the words — and, more so, the rising fury of his father. Only even Rory is struggling to maintain that anger, instead amused by the situation in which he’d found both of them. 

So, he decides to play around and to exercise his own acting skills. Surely Ellie cannot be the only one who’d caught the bug. “Ellie,” he says, voice raised in faux warning, “Just what in the world have you been teaching my kid?” Rory adds, crossing his arms for good measure.

☆

It should not come to her surprise that this would all end disastrously. Ellie often was prone to attracting mishaps, one that was not warranted by her. Although the good intentions existed, it still didn’t excuse the consequences of her actions. Just like tonight, when all she wanted was to impress her nephew, to perhaps convince him that she was probably the coolest Hirsch in their clan, but it only resulted in profanities hanging in the cool air, slamming her hands to her ears to make the noise to stop. 

So when Adam ceased to silence, Ellie couldn’t help but let her hands fall by her sides, the sight of her older brother standing before them made her stomach sank. Her worst case scenario came true. His words merely confirmed that Rory caught the last of their conversation. The brunette couldn’t help but shake the feeling that coursed through her when their father caught her red-handed in the middle of the night, feasting over a tub of ice cream when she was a child. The same guilt coursed through her being, feelings like she was a child about to be scolded by her parents.

On the bright side of things though, at least this was the perfect sample for their mother than Ellie was certainly not close to motherhood just yet.

“Wait, it’s not—” In her own typical fashion, Ellie jumped straight to her own defence, only to stop short when the realisation hit that she was about to blame a child over taking responsibility herself. She was the one at fault there, after all. Taking a deep breath, she started again. “It’s not what you think, Rory! I—uh, well — maybe it’s exactly what it looks like. Work distracted me just a second, okay? I didn’t know my voice travelled so far across the porch.” She shot an apologetic look at her older brother, then to Adam as she mumbled her latter words. “I may or may not have added some swear words to his vocabulary, that’s all.” 

It took another stretch of silence before Ellie suddenly blurted out an apology. “I’m sorry, okay!” If Ellie kept track of the embarrassing moment she endured throughout her life, this ought to be somewhere on that list. Not only did she not impress her nephew, but now she probably came across as anything but cool in his eyes. A sigh fell from her lips, as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Adam, you won’t say whatever you said again, would you?” A pleading look crossed her features for a moment, before shooting at look at Rory again. “In my defence, it was an accident. You can’t tell me that’s never happened to you before.” 

[eleanorhirsch]

— RACHEL DANZIGER-HIRSCH.

Rachel shrugged as she pulled back.  “Maybe I should spread the word, then.  We started doing it for one of my roommates in college and she made it to class on time just fine for years, at least until I moved out.”  And then she’d sort of lost track, because her life had been so busy, but that was beside the point.  With a nod, she attempted a smile and felt like she got at least partway there.  “Same, busy with work.  I’ve been trying to split working from home and going into the city so I can be around when Adam isn’t in school.  I’m almost there with the balance, which means it’s probably just about time for summer vacation to mess it all up.”   

☆

A grin formed upon her features at Rachel’s remark. “You know, that probably still won’t stop me from being late. Or I’d like to say, being fashionably late.” At least, the sentiment of it all helped her sleep at night, and Ellie was never really known for her punctuality anyway. “Do people actually make it on time to college though? Isn’t it all just partying?” She wouldn’t know, since she never had the college experience herself. A part of her always wondered if she was missing out, but her career excelled and that all became a distant memory.

“Oh, you work in the city, right? How’s the commute been? Surely, it’s a little different with catching ferries to work.” Sometimes Ellie missed the ease of driving to her next meeting, or to set for that matter. But the island life overcame everything else, it was the sacrifice worth making in her opinion. “Oh yeah, but summer comes with a lot of festivities on the island, so I think there’ll be enough to keep Adam occupied. But are you both all settled on the island now?”

[eleanorhirsch]

— LYDIA BECKETT.

Being under Eleanor’s scrutiny felt uncomfortable and her words made Lydia unwillingly and mindlessly flinch, as though she had felt tiny sharp blades poking her skin. This would be the perfect moment, wouldn’t it? To just let it all out, to tell her the one small detail that had changed her life so much she had been questioning just about everything she had lived before.

She remembered the countless times she so easily leaned on Eleanor. The times when she felt suffocated at home and even when she was away with Daniel. Every tragedy, just as every smile was shared and those moments were not the only ones that founded their friendship. There was nothing that could keep them away from one another. Eleanor was right, those were three weeks too long in their shared timeline. Eleanor was more than just a friend, Eleanor was her sister and right now, more than ever, Lydia knew that being related by blood hardly meant a thing.

It would be easy, far too easy, to just crumble down there. Her knees would easily buckle under the weight of an exhausted body. Eleanor was right in her observations, it was clear that something was wrong with Lydia — even clearer that a lot was, but how to put that into words? How to tell her best friend that knowing the man lying on that hospital bed wasn’t her father had made her feel even smaller? She thought she had accepted the fact that her mother left and left her behind, but now she was dealing with something completely new— Christine had left her with a total stranger. How did she turn her life around from that? How? How did she made sense of the abuse suffered under the hand of a man who wasn’t even her father?

Lydia didn’t find her voice. She hated upsetting Eleanor. That look on her face. She knew her best friend so much and so deeply she had memorized how her expression lightly screwed whenever she was about to cry and it was like Lydia could physically feel her own heart break. They had been through so much, they had cried a lot of times together, but she never thought she’d make Eleanor cry. It wasn’t a matter of pushing her away willingly, it was a matter of saving Eleanor from her misery. Of once in her life not dumping it all on her best friend and trying to deal with things on her own, no matter how much of a bad job she was doing. The funny thing was, Lydia knew — and she didn’t even have to search very deep for that information — that if roles were reversed, she would have swiped the entire island already until she found Ellie and not back down until she had the truth.

She was sorry. She was so sorry. 

Where the hell were those words?

Eleanor’s last affirmation sounded more like a question and felt like Lydia had been pushed off the edge of a precipice. Her heart hammered so hard against her chest it was slowly becoming harder to breathe and she didn’t need to have another fit of panic. Not there. Not right now. It would be much more comfortable if she was in her motel room, alone, dealing with this alone. Fuck, it was the one thought she could fish out from the million others swirling inside her head. The pit of her stomach twisted in several knots and her hands shook, her heart would not calm down. It would just not calm down. Maybe if she could get herself to be rude to Eleanor, to tell her she did not want nor cared for her friendship, the brunette would calm down, but how could she? How could she deny that if there was anyone capable of saving her from the hole she had dug herself in, that person would be Eleanor?

The same person who had done that for her many times.

Lydia opened her mouth, but no sound came from it.

She didn’t even realize tears were rolling down her eyes until it she felt their salty taste on her tongue and it hit her before she could get a hold of herself.

“Ellie— I—” She couldn’t breathe. Lydia couldn’t breathe. She had been afraid of the day where that whole thing would finally swallow her whole and apparently it only took looking at Eleanor and having to confront the only person who could see inside her soul. Her tears were quick to turn into sobs and she felt her entire body trembling. Her shaking hands cared little about what she had been carrying and the contents had spilled on the floor. She tried her best to concentrate, to pull the air through her nose and out her mouth, but her body was unresponsive. Lydia had absolutely no control over it and had she not been feeling numb, she would be hating this lack of control. 

Her hands reached for Eleanor’s, wanting desperately to grasp into reality. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” were the mumbling words, tripped only when an overwhelming sob rocked through her body. Her sight was blurred and Lydia did her best not to give in the panic attack. It had been so long since she had one of those she had forgotten how to pull herself from them. She knew she needed to before her body gave out, before the darkness circled her. She could feel people around her, but she couldn’t do anything, the only thing tethering her to reality was Eleanor’s hand. “Please don’t leave me, I can’t do this alone,” the blonde begged, words she knew might not make sense when said out loud. 

☆

It’d been much easier to allow her anger take control than other spectrums of her emotions to wield such position, but anger and Lydia didn’t belong in the same sentence. Never once, in the years they’d known each other, did Eleanor felt such sentiment at the blonde. Even now, perhaps that came from a place of hurt, and rather not that she was angry at her own best friend. There were a few people that the brunette would try to spend time understanding the actions of another, with all her actions often running on impulse, but for Lydia, she would always make the exception. She sure hoped their bond would survive the destruction of anything life would throw in their way.

After all, they’d always been each other’s anchors, keeping each other grounded and steady. They were no stranger to hardships, but their suffering was not to be compared with. Eleanor did not befriend Lydia simply because of her situation at home, but rather from day one, she was almost certain they were destined for a lifelong of friendship. Sisterhood, even. Especially when she grew up surrounded by brothers, it felt like a sweet escape to seek company in someone who just understood what went on in her head, without so much of uttering the words out loud.

Which was why, in this moment, as her hazel hues surveyed the blonde, not daring to meet her own — Ellie knew something had gone awry. A sight that she’d not witnessed in the years they’d known each other, her worry deepening as minutes drifted by. Although it felt like an eternity in her mind, because this was not the comforting silence hanging in the air, when the brunette slept on her tear-soaked pillow after her father’s funeral. Nor when she rushed to Lydia’s side when Daniel caused terror in her life. But one that she dreaded the most. One that spiked her anxiety, screaming at her to protect Lydia from harm. 

Pushing her own emotions aside, her anger dissipated instantaneously when the blonde’s voice trembled, cutting in the cool, salty air hanging between them. The lights emitting from the pizzeria reflected off the tear trickling down Lydia’s cheeks — the sight of it before her shattered her heart all the same, chest tightening as their sadness were often shared equally between them. It was something they both signed up for from the day they became best friends, and not a day did Ellie regret this. This was what best friends do.

“Hey, hey,” Eleanor gripped her hand with equal amount of strength, keeping Lydia steady as she pulled her into an embrace. Ignoring the fact they were both standing in the middle of the street, she couldn’t care less as the brunette stood there steadily as the outpour of emotion came from the other. She hadn’t seen her best friend like this in such a long time; perhaps, the last the same occurred as when they were both teenagers, due to no other Lydia’s family. “I’m here, it’s okay.” Is it, though? A part of her questioned nonetheless, but whatever it was, she would be there to fight for her, together. 

“I’m here,” She reassured again, as her sobs reached her ears, causing her throat to tighten. “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever it is, we’ll face this together.” That was no empty promise, because Ellie meant that with all her heart. Although her heart raced with anxiety at just what that could bring such sorrow to her friend, it was something she would have to overcome, because she sure as hell was not going to let Lydia face this on her own. “Let’s go back to mine, okay? We’ll talk then. Or not, because you look like you could do with something to eat and a good night’s rest, even. But you’re not going to go through this on your own, okay? I’ll make damn sure of that, Beck. I promise.” 

[eleanorhirsch]

— CLEO HALLIWELL.

The more time Cleo and Ellie spend together, the more similarities amongst the pairings wither themselves to the surface. Having always been aware of the other’s crackhead nature and thrill for being the center of attention, the brunette’s effortless jests and the ability to twist their arm playfully, is something the blonde has grown to love. It’s like having another sister, on top of the two younger ones she has, but a connection that her own blood failed to make an effort in. Either way, moments like these are ones she’ll cherish entirely since the unpredictability of when they’ll see each other next is due to their crammed schedule as they’re passing ships in all rounds of the day. So, even though Cleo knows Ellie’s remark is accurate, all they can do is ridicule offense before sticking her tongue out at the other ─ a nonverbal indication the other is correct, but just this once. “If you make this happen, make sure you invite me and have a spot reserved in the front row. I want to heckle you as often as possible.” A plethora of honey-toned waggishness enters into the air with a mischievousness impacting a single corner. After a moment, Cleo leans over the chair’s armrest to nudge the other in the elbow. Short in the lifespan of the action, but it keeps up with the lighthearted manner both of them frequently indulge their conversations with. Until the scoff from the other’s behalf causes azure optics to roll into the back of her head, only to shoot a pointed expression after a moment of their own physical dramatics pass through. Scoffing, her shoulders pin back before saying: “Take a day out of your busy day, and I’ll show you everything, and you’ll regret doubting my words,” she finalizes with a pointed look. 

Taking the sample glass of this spiced sangria into her hand, she lifts a hand toward the string light above them to observe the substance’s potency and make sure something settles at the bottom. The sight may come off as peculiar, but the process of finalizing on this third installment of her liquor line challenged her from the moment they began discussing. One issue, after another, came its way to the surface that things have been looking forward. Still, it hasn’t helped entirely minimize her anxiety ─ which probably won’t subside until the sangria is on shelves and positive reviews come through. Thankfully, the trance of observing the substance in the light breaks by her own chuckle. “Who do you think would win a verbal argument? Your agent or me? This is how we determine the accuracy of your statement,” Cleo jokes, growing intrigued by the response she may receive. “And define what hiding means to you because we have different definitions of that,” she remarks with a tilting head. If hiding meant one to two candid appearances in a month, then hell, that’s a peculiar way to see things. Rather than waiting for a response, she follows suit in Ellie’s indulgence, feeling the cinnamon’s kick and cloves intertwine themselves. “Holy crap, this reminds me of that fucking cinnamon challenge.” One cough, before another one kicks right after, finding themselves teetering back-and-forth on whether they like it or not. “I think if there’s less cinnamon, more citrus peel, might be a high contender,” Outwardly thinking their thoughts, grabbing a pen to jot down the ideas before focusing entirely on her trusted companion. “I want different, you know? Like, I love the fruity route of sangria’s frequently go down, but I want a drink that has a kick and that’s multipurpose in terms of seasons. I want to be the first one in continuing to break the barriers.”

☆

Her sunny disposition often hovered between the lies of realism and facade; to many, that was the Eleanor Hirsch they all knew of, known for her accolades and sometimes unluckily, the tabloid articles her name seemed to be caught up in. Although the brunette became friends with Cleo long before the spotlights found its way to the pair; the rare few people that Ellie allowed herself to ooze with genuineness whenever she was in their presence. It was as easy as breathing in fresh air, as time drifted by, whenever their paths aligned with one another again, it felt like a day hadn’t passed by between them. She was often curious how her friend managed to deal with the cameras following them around constantly, as she only found herself hiding from them whenever they were positioned in hidden places caught by no other than those paparazzis. “Heckle me?” Dramatically, a gasp slipped from her lips. “You would never. You’ll never faze me anywhere, my dear friend Oscar would prove so.” Adding to her flare, she flipped her brown locks over her shoulders. Knowing Cleo was no stranger to her jests, she was not afraid to turn the theatrics up furthermore. It’d always been easier this way, the jokes and jabs, than the stray towards serious matters that her family often avoided with all cost. Perhaps that was where she adopted the same traits from. With her father gone, the peacemaker of the family was left vacant, with everyone else too afraid to bear on such responsibility. Before her mind could spiral any further. Her grin merely widened, brows raised as if in challenge. “You’ll have to book something out of my busy schedule, Cleo. That sounds a lot like a threat, you’re lucky that I don’t take you that seriously.” She joked. 

As her hazel hues surveyed the samples before her, Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if a day in the winery consisted something such as this. Sure, perhaps it would be less glamorous that the efforts put into tonight’s meeting, as she could only assume that Cleo Halliwell didn’t just do this for simply everyone. But the youngest Hirsch never paid much attention to the family’s business, as those responsibilities fell to her brother instead. Even when her father was alive, they would rarely talk business, nor did she ask. Now, she wondered if she cared more about this matter. If she should spend more time with her mother at the winery too. But tonight wasn’t about her family’s collection of wine, but rather Cleo’s. With that, her focus returned to the present. “I don’t know,” Her lips pursed, contemplating the thought for a moment. “I think I need to witness this in person. My agent can be such a hardass, you know? If he knew I was helping you with this, he probably demanded to be here too. You don’t want that, because that would just ruin the night for the both of us.” That was nothing but the truth, because there was a part of her that was certain she could never befriend her current agent. The man meant all business and nothing else, and the brunette would rather not hang out with him more than she needed to already. “Hiding from the paps, or my work schedule, it’s always one of the two. Why, what does hiding mean to you?” Her brows rose with curiosity, before laughter bubbled over her lips at their reaction as Cleo tasted the sample, before coughing slightly at the aftertaste all the same. “I mean, surely that would do well with the millennials. We all remember the cinnamon challenge, right? But I think, with all the competition out there, you need to be different. So fruity with a bit of a kick, is what we’re looking for? A little cinnamon couldn’t hurt, but this was just overkill.” 

[buffysummers]

Zoey Deutch photographed by Andrew Kuykendall

[rachelsennott]

Sweet Home Alabama (2002) dir. Andy Tennant

[eleanorhirsch]

— CLEO HALLIWELL.

You know, maybe it might do you some good if you’re wrong on the off chance ─ a statement that Cleo has, unfortunately, heard one too many times in the years. Regarding their dynamic and future potential of them becoming sisters-in-law, the blonde can see right through the other that it’s a quip. Though, one would be foolish to let such a statement come off as an offense. Not with her, though. So it only makes sense for her response to be rather goodly: azure optics rolling back into their head as a hearty laugh fills the atmosphere ─ tagging along in the lighthearted nature they’re submerged in. “Ha ha ha, you’re a comedian, Ellie. Has anyone told you should try stand up?” If anyone were to pass by the pair of women and hear these remarks, they would assume the comments were meant to jab the other profusely: over and over again. But no, that’s not how either one of them rolls, as things always come out in hefty dramatics and laborious jest. Though, the ensuing interject causes their chapstick petals to purse, head tilting to the side with slight tampering of her azure hues, “Hey now, I’m a fantastic boss. If you ever want to see me in action, just come by the office one day, and you’ll see the magic,” she corrects calmly and collectively with a soft beam, “And by magic, my team and the evident sight of how lost I would be without them. If anything, I adjust my life and business around them.”

That’s the thing about Cleo ─ they may be the face of the business, products, and one at fault if things go wrong, such as a failure in a particular product. An infinite amount of praise is given to those who make the work happen behind the scenes and make things possible. None of this, the sangria testing, in particular, wouldn’t have been possible for that matter. She knows it, as does everyone else in the company. However, before the laser focus of the task at hand penetrates all the female’s airy declarations, Ellie’s statement brings an influx of disbelief with brow’s furrowing together, silence rare in concept, and perspicacity intertwining. For someone who found themselves in a relationship, whether in the industry or privately, cutting the point in half and making it seem like it isn’t a big deal is all more concerning from their perspective. As the hostess for the eve, swallowing the topic entirely is the only alternative left, surprisingly knowing what it’s like to shut up.

Now resting comfortably in the hand-picked outdoor furniture, underneath a void of black with tidbits of illuminated sprinkles, is a glorious feeling after a workday that wore them down. “No, I haven’t thought about that,” she admits with a shake of the bleached locks, accepting the flattery instantaneously. “But, if I ever get tired of being a self-made entrepreneur and want to ruff up some feathers, or faces for that matter, I’ll take this career change suggestion wholeheartedly.” Affable timbre escapes from their soprano range, making sure a quick wink is shot toward the other. Enough to let Ellie’s suggestion mean something, though the likelihood may be improbable. If a change of career were to happen, she’d take part in the family business. A chuckle passes, beginning to pour the spice-flavored sangria to the halfway point in both glasses. “I did say in our messages it’s a sampling, yeah?” Inquisitive brow shot upward as she gently slides the glass in her direction. “So, let the evening of intoxication and serious decision making begin.”

☆

As she adored the blonde with all her heart, it was a lighthearted comment in retaliation to all the times her friend had been right about everything, and never once being wrong. Just one time though, she wouldn’t deny that she’d find some amusement in uttering ‘I told you so’ just one time. Yet a part of her believed that she better not be holding her breath regarding that matter. Funnily enough, a part of her just knew whenever the union of their siblings’ union happened, that would not change a single aspect of their dynamic; if anything, it would only make that foundation stronger. Perking up at Cleo’s remark, her grin widened confidently as Eleanor spoke. “Duh, of course I have! Watch me featured in the next Comedy Central Roast, I’ve been meaning to branch out to comedy in a while.” Had her agent been here tonight, that would most certainly give him ideas for her next project, yet a part of her feared in that genre, as that the kind of project she always strayed away from. An unladylike scoff slipped from her lips at Cleo’s jest, although she meant no offence by her reaction. If anything, it was probably expected from the woman sitting before her. “Oh yeah? Can you guarantee that your team will back you on that?” She wiggled her brows in question, although it was more or less rhetorical considering she never doubted her friend’s capability in her job.

Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder how her parents would feel had they known her involvement with Cleo’s project, whether there would be a sense of pride lingering in the air, knowing that she might just possessed a little bit of knowledge with her family’s business, enough to provide assistance to another. “You know, you might be able to give my agent a run for his money — but don’t tell him I said that.” She mimed a zipping gesture over her lips. She would even dare to say that the man terrified her sometimes, and she knew she could be a handful to handle already. “Yeah, but you know, I’m not sure if that was just your way to coax me out of hiding,” She retorted in jest, although really, it was the company that mattered more to her. It wasn’t until when she was thrusted into the whirlwind of Hollywood when she realised she’d taken her times with her loved ones for granted, cherishing these rare moments when she got to spend time and catching up because they were hard to find nowadays. “You know, I heard the best decision made is when you’re intoxicated, don’t know where I read it from, but I know it’s out there somewhere.” Then, she finally reached over and took rather a gulp of the sample, savouring the flavour before speaking up again. “Oh, this has a kick to it.” She took another, smaller sip this time. “But it’s nice. Like I said, it can be an acquired taste. Have you thought of the theme you’re going for? In terms of flavouring all the way to marketing? I mean — I know my family owns a winery and all, but if you feel like I’m talking out of my ass at any time, just stop me while I’m not fully drunk yet.”

[eleanorhirsch]

— FLYNN KHUMALO.

A smile threatens to spread across Flynn’s face. The word threatened is used because he does everything in his power to combat it with great vigor. The smile that attempts to break is the one reserved over for her, the kind that spread across his face and earned the lines around his mouth to crease with unscathed happiness. His dark brown eyes cast upon the box in his hands, opening the first one on top, revealing the food and her makeshift apology written in candy. His smile almost spreads and Flynn has to purse his lips a tad in order to fight it even further. Though it’s evident that he wasn’t mad. No, he could never stay mad at her for long. You’ve got a spot reserved in every single space inside you for that girl, his mother once said to him after a usual bicker-fest between him and Eleanor. Flynn, at the time, didn’t quite understand the sentiment. Hell, he was a teenage boy with confused, unspoken feelings for his best friend that he couldn’t navigate. Yet, he was always sad about their sudden spats, so much so that he ran to his mother distressed and confused. Perhaps that was why she said she did, an attempt at rattling the truth from him, though to no true prevail. Not entirely.

“Don’t be sorry.” Flynn finally says, allowing his gaze to move from the boxes in his hand to Eleanor. The hint of a smile comes then, and it’s still only for her. “We have our moments, you know that. We have them and we get through it. That’s what we do.” He adds, his smile growing a tad. The man turns, resting the boxes down onto the table settled just beside his front door. A beat of silence brews between them, Flynn’s eyes traveling all over her face. That same stomach ache feeling he always got with Eleanor arrives like clockwork and he does what he can to ignore it. “But, for what it’s worth,” Flynn starts with a shrug, “I’m sorry too.” For a moment, Flynn thinks he should touch her face. The apple of her cheek or her neck. Or maybe her arm or the small of her back. Yet he doesn’t, keeping his hands at his sides, though they yearn for the feeling. “I don’t understand us sometimes but,” Another shrug, “maybe that’s what friendship is sometimes.” Friendship. That damn word again. His stomach ache worsens. 

Silence returns as Flynn thinks of what to do next. He takes a step back then, widening the space in the door for her, “You gonna come inside or are you gonna sulk like a baby for a minute?”

☆

As embarrassment enveloped her, with her presents now in Flynn’s possession, Eleanor couldn’t help but feel like she was suddenly pulled back down memory lane, of her childhood crush on the man before her. Perhaps one that never, truly faded away even now. She was briefly reminded of the stolen glances casted in his way whenever he wasn’t looking, the brunette found herself doing just the same right now. Peering up through her lashes like she did when she was younger, trying to gauge his reaction of the boxes in his hands. She could swear, if she squinted in the darkness, that she could note the corner of his lips twitching upwards, or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, hoping for this nightmare to be finally over. The truth was, all of her fighting words came whenever she wasn’t thinking properly. In Flynn’s presence, that control over her thoughts always came slipping away, but it was ultimately the period between mending what was broken from their latest argument that was the worst. Those around her probably suffered all the same because of them too. Awkwardness aside, she knew she would rather have some of him in her life than nothing at all. The silence from Flynn in particular was too unbearable to cope with.

“Yeah, well,” Her gaze fell down to her sneakers, heat creeping up her cheeks, although grateful that the nightfall casted over a veil over her face, hoping Flynn wouldn’t notice her unease. “It wasn’t my proudest moment. So let’s just...leave that behind us, yeah?” For a moment, Eleanor wanted to extend the olive branch by asking about his companion that night from the party. But the thought of it alone invited the strange sensation back into her stomach again — jealousy, if she was bold enough to admit it. She was grateful that he pulled her out of her reverie, although with an apology that surprised her all the same. Waving a hand at the space between them, she shook her head at his words. “Stop that. You have nothing to be sorry about.” Finally, relief washed over her, as a gentle smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Meeting his gaze, the two weeks of silence made her realise just how much she’d missed Flynn — them. Although she tore her gaze away from him again as the word friendship lingered in the air; a faint, chuckle slipped from her lips nonetheless. To ease the further confusion that often surfaced in his presence. “That makes two of us,” Yet, come to think of it, she never bickered with Lydia as much as she did with Flynn. Was this really was friendship meant to be like? Did other people bickered as much they did too? “We really had our ups and downs, haven’t we?”

“I wasn’t sulking like a baby,” Ellie feigned mock offence at Flynn’s question, although she knew he’d hit the nail on the head if he’d known what the past two weeks had been like for her. “But I thought you’d never ask,” Grinning, she took his gesture as an invitation, stepping through the threshold into his home, a sense of familiarity washed over her. As if instantaneously, she felt lighter than mere moments ago as she turned to face Flynn again. “You know, I was going to knock and run, so I guess I’ll never find out if I’m still as fast as my track team days.” She quipped. “What’s keeping you up, anyway?” After all, she hadn’t expect him to still be up at this time of the night, before her eyes surveyed his kitchen for a moment. “Better yet, what are you making?”

[eleanorhirsch]

— LYDIA BECKETT.

Lydia never wished more to disappear out of thin air.

The look on Eleanor’s face said a lot about their current situation. She had never been the one to hide her feelings from her best friend and yet, that’s exactly what had happened before she could even notice it had been happening. Lydia was disappointed in herself, but it hurt eons more that Eleanor could also be. 

She wasn’t sure what she could say to make it better. Probably nothing at all. She wasn’t sure if an apology was enough, she wasn’t sure if grovelling at Eleanor’s feet would be enough. She had turned her phone off and decided not to give her best friend a chance to know even if she was alive during these past three weeks. She wanted to, at least tell her that she had been breathing, because she didn’t feel much alive. The more Lydia scattered her exhausted brain for something to say, the more she came out empty handed.

If she was being completely honest, she would say that she wanted to just abandon the pizza box right there and run for the hills without telling her anything. Just brush past Eleanor and not give her answers, but Ellie didn’t deserve that, and sure as hell she didn’t deserve the person Lydia was being right now. It was strange to know that in other life altering moments Eleanor had been the first one she ran to, even when Daniel was trying to keep them apart, but just this one, Lydia had never felt more alone and it wasn’t anybody’s fault but her own.

She had tried before, believe it or not. She had stared at her phone for long minutes, wanting to dial Ellie’s phone number and tell her the whole thing, but she couldn’t. Her breathing would become erratic and she’d throw the device across the small motel room she had been renting. There was something in her that didn’t want the comfort and felt like she didn’t deserve it, something in her that just wanted to ride the pain, some twisted part of her felt like it was exactly what she needed to put things in perspective. Her whole life had been one massive lie. How did she just open her mouth and tell her best friend that?

As she looked at Eleanor, she wondered if best friend was a term she could still use. The silence lingered, so tense it could be cut with a knife. Lydia couldn’t find her voice. She felt small, she felt insignificant, she felt… wrong. She couldn’t handle Eleanor’s burning gaze, so she looked away. It was clear that the small brunette wanted answers she didn’t know she could give. She needed the right words so she could speak with her properly, but could she find them? Could she say them without completely breaking down the way she had completely avoided for these past few weeks?

There was an inevitable turmoil inside her head as she tried to find what to say. Maybe she could start with an apology, but it didn’t really seem enough, even though it would have probably gone a long way, saying sorry didn’t feel right. Clearing her throat, teeth instantly hooking on the inside of her cheeks she felt a pang on the pit of her stomach. Lydia was nervous. How ridiculous was that? Her hands felt clammy and her system was sobering up against her will. “I…” she tried, her voice came out raspy, as if it had never been used before, and the more she wanted to look directly at Eleanor, she couldn’t, she stared at her feet. Still begging for some way to just run away.

“I’ve been busy,” she finally managed to say out loud, looking at her too. It wasn’t all a lie, “my phone broke,” but that was. Her voice came out flat and disinterested, and while she didn’t mean to, while she really wanted to give in and tell Eleanor everything, she was held back, as if someone had been holding her throat every time she wanted to spill. Still, she didn’t apologise. Part of her wanting Eleanor to badger her, and yell at her and throw all her frustrations at her just like she deserved. It was a shame that she thought that wouldn’t happen. “I’ve just been taking some time off, nothing you need to worry about.” Lydia pressed her lips together and held the rest of the words in, held in the part where she asked for Eleanor’s help because she was wasting herself away, held back the part where she was losing control and she didn’t know how to get back. Lydia swallowed back her tears and bit down on her tongue. There was nothing more she could do.

☆

The hurt inside outweighed all the other feelings that was coursing through her body right now. Like it or not, they were open books to one another. Whether they wanted to be placed in such vulnerable predicament or not, that was what they signed up for, being best friends with over two decades of friendship under their belts. But that promise was broken over the course of these three weeks, which only shot a pang of hurt on the inside further.

The thing was, people always came and go in her line of profession, but it was those that she deemed closest to her that stung the most when they left her out in the open, with another open wound for her to tend to. It was Robert first, then last year it was her father. Never did she think, Lydia would shut her out, leaving her on the outside. It’d stung more, because this was the woman that endured every hardship with her together. Forcing her way into her life when Eleanor so wanted to be left alone, only to crumble into her arms within seconds to meeting each other’s gaze.

Yet, Ellie couldn’t help but feel like she was completely shut out right now. The sight of Lydia only terrified her furthermore when she couldn’t get a read of what was going through her mind right now.

Her mind raced a thousand miles per hour as the two women stood there, the welcoming atmosphere that often found in her best friend shifted into something that haunted her. Like a nightmare came true, causing her to believe that maybe she wasn’t deserving of anyone to remain permanent in her life. That doubt never, ever came up in her mind throughout their friendship these years, but in this moment, it finally arose. The thought alone caused her stomach to sink, a sense of nausea slowly creeping up her throat.

But she wasn’t going to leave Lydia without putting up a fight, no matter how much the blonde attempted to push her away. As her hazel hues surveyed the sight before her, Ellie noted that vibrant colour of life vanished before her eyes, and if anything, her concern deepened regarding her wellbeing at this moment in time. She was no doubt thinner, fatigue evident all over her features. She would know, because she’d been relying on medication for a good night’s rest in the past year. She knew just too well that something had gone terribly wrong, but it was the reason behind it that left her dumbfounded, as her mind continued to come up empty as to what caused this behaviour to occur.

Perhaps it petrified her furthermore that Eleanor had never witnessed this sight of Lydia before her, only cementing her assumption that something awful happened. Her brows creased towards the centre of her face, as she waited, almost impatiently for her response. It felt like an eternity, before she stumbled over her words, inevitably emitting a scoff to fall from her lips, indicating that she was not for a second believing her half-hearted reply. “Bullshit,” The words slipped from her lips without thinking. No matter how busy their schedules were, they would always make time for each other. Which made her lame excuse even worse.

It only added fuel to the fire when Lydia’s latter remark just came out so nonchalantly. With that, Eleanor couldn’t hold back her anger anymore, as the words came rushing out before she could stop them. “Nothing I need to worry about? You gave me radio silence for three weeks, Beck. That’s three weeks too long. We never do that each other. We never take time off from each other. Not to mention you look like crap, which doesn’t make a convincing case that nothing has happened.” Her upset was evident in her tone, tears welled up in her eyes as she turned away for a brief moment, falling to her golden retriever to blink them away. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a deep breath, before she faced her best friend again. It took her another long stretch of silence before she tried to recollect herself again, the worrying sight of Lydia finally caused her gaze to soften, knowing that her anger was not going to coax out the reasoning behind the blonde’s behaviour in the past three weeks. “What happened, Beck? And don’t tell me nothing again, because something is clearly wrong.” A sigh fell, as the next words only pained her to utter them out loud. “I never thought I’d need to tell you this, but you know you can trust me, right?” 

[eleanorhirsch]

— LYDIA BECKETT.

at antonio’s pizzeria on APRIL 25TH. around nine in the evening.

closed starter for eleanor hirsch — @eleanorhirsch​​.

The phone on her back pocket was weighing heavily on her. Over the past almost three weeks, Lydia had been making the fine decision of drinking at least half a bottle of any available hard liquor before walking out on any street.

Her phone hadn’t been turned on just yet, her entire being was not ready to return to the real world just yet. Self-pity had become a full time job she was excelling at. Considering her recent habits, it was a surprise that she had even been keeping herself standing. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that among the many feelings she had been pushing down and numbing away, shame had been on the forefront. Ashamed and scared was definitely no way to live.

It wasn’t to say that she didn’t miss her life, because she did. Declan was always in her mind as she often wondered how Holly had been dealing with her absence and if she even would have a job to go back to. Eleanor shouldn’t want anything to do with her. Three weeks of no contact was three weeks too long when it came to them. Lydia, however, saw no other way of dealing with the turmoil inside her head and outside noise would only ever push her closer to a breaking point she didn’t care for reaching.

That was a lot to be running through her mind as she waited for pizza and she knew the cause of it was her half-sober mind. She asked them to hurry with her order. A large pizza for one would make her last for a couple of days inside her apartment, maybe more. Food had not been something she had been preoccupied with for the past weeks, by the time she passed out drunk, dinner had been long forgotten.

Turning on her heels once she had the pizza box and paid for it, she did not expect to see Eleanor’s face. “Nell … hi.” 

☆

Eleanor and Lydia were attached at the hips since anyone could remember; even as they embarked into adulthood, metaphorically, the sentiment never changed for a day. Just a text message to one another would suffice to indicate that they were both well and alive, although more often than not, even with years passed by between them, they never, ever ran out of things to talk about. 

The first day didn’t bother Ellie; the brunette had been in and out of meetings all day, and she wondered if the same happened with Lydia too. Although the thought was in the back of her mind, she silenced it when she finally made it home and passed out on her bed. But then the pattern occurred again, over and over, for three weeks. The first week had been hell, because she was worried that she had said or done something wrong. Replaying their last conversation in her mind, it was nothing but mindless chatter. Nothing concrete enough that would upset Lydia. Checking her ‘find my friend’ app didn’t help either, because she only found her best friend’s location vanishing on her screen. 

Then the second, anger began to creep inside her being, her foul mood from the radio silence that Lydia gave her was enough for her to impulsively show up to Lydia’s place, only to find herself knocking on the front door before giving up. Stubbornly, a part of her wanted to give the blonde a taste of her own medicine, but that didn’t stop her from checking her phone every hour. It wasn’t as though she slept through the night without the aid of medicine in the past year, but with the fatigue combined, Eleanor found herself jittery with irritation and impatience as the week went by.

Then the third week, Eleanor was ready to call out a search party and report to the police about a missing person’s case. If it hadn’t been for friends and family telling her that they’d seen the blonde around the island, she would’ve done so sooner. Which only deepened her anger, because it seemed as though Lydia just was avoiding her. 

Eleanor was out trying to take her mind off the silence that fell upon her life recently, her golden retriever tugging her along rather than the other way around for once, when she caught a flash of blonde hair in her peripheral vision. Stopping dead in her tracks, Ellie stood, almost expectantly at the entrance of Antonio’s until her best friend finally noticed her. Lips pursed in a thin line at her greeting, her arms crossed over her chest as hazel hues scanned over the blonde’s features. The sight of her alone only increased her worry, but it was her anger that surfaced first. “Hi? Is that all you have to say after ignoring me for three weeks? What the hell, Beck?”

[eleanorhirsch]

— GABRIELLA LIVINGSTON.

“I think that if we started drinking coffee during high school, we would have failed so badly,” Gabby pointed out to the woman in front of her. Although back in those days they had drank quite some other drinks that probably would’ve been better for their bodies to just not drink it either. And also better on the financial front (even though she knew that she didn’t have to worry about that).

“Starving through? You would at least expect those party’s to at least have some proper catering out there,” Gabby chuckled. It seemed boring to her to have to attend such events. Watching from home seemed a lot better because you had some freedom. But if you had to attend them, just because you are obligated to go and not because you want to go… That definitely must be torture. “I don’t know either. I would say Spring is the best in that month. The weather is definitely turning away from the early months of the year and the summer is coming up. It’s not too hot that you are sweating in that dress of yours or in the suit you’re wearing. I guess it works. The same as with September,” Gabby explained to Ellie. The only downside of those two months was that there was still a big chance of rain from time to time.

“The working hours are definitely a good thing for this job. I don’t even want to think about being bound to a desk from nine to five. Once I have some off time, then I don’t want to be interrupted. Nights out with friends and nights in with family sound a lot better than those obligatory events that you sometimes have to attend.” Gabby would go insane if she would have to do things that others told her to do. She needed to have a grasp on things and that was possible with the job she was working right now. Even though it was not something that made her completely happy.

“Sounds like a proper excuse. ‘I can’t tonight, mum, I have an award show to attend’,” Gabby laughed at the words they spoke. She then shook her head. “Luckily enough I don’t have too. Mum’s the one who just loves to go to those kinds of events. It makes her feel like her best self I think, if she’s not with her family. So I just let her do those things and if I really can’t get out of it, because you can’t say no to Sylvie Livingston.”

☆

A soft chuckle spilled over her lips at Gabby’s words. “Tell me about it. I think redbulls were probably the go to thing back then. Even then, I’ve never been a fan of it.” Granted, being underage and all back then, the hype around coffee was not at all as prominent as alcohol did. At the topic regarding award shows, however, Ellie couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Right? But I guess it’d be boring just to film people eat during those things. Which is why any outfits with pockets are the best, that way, you can hide food and snack when the cameras are away from you.” Yet it sounded bizarre as the words fell from her lips. Considering actors were amongst the rich and famous, one would think that they could afford to eat, or even get their expensive outfits dirty. But not eating at award shows had always been an unspoken rule in the industry, and it wasn’t like she had a best track record with her eating habits either.

“Huh, interesting, I didn’t know that. Brides must be freezing their asses off if they want a winter wedding then? They’re lucky that it doesn’t snow in Catalina either.” It wasn’t so surprising this wasn’t to Ellie’s knowledge until now. Considering her lack of commitment in relationships — which, only changed in the past few months on a business basis. To her mother’s dismay, she was the only Hirsch left in the family not to have been married now. She only hoped that one of her brothers would give their mother another grandchild, then perhaps that would distract the Hirsch matriarch from her interest in her personal life. “I mean, you’re mostly the boss, right? That’s the freedom that comes with that. I don’t have a regular working schedule, sometimes I would be on set until four in the morning, and then somedays I’ll finish at four in the afternoon. No wondering my sleeping schedule is all over the place.”

“Exactly,” She agreed. “I don’t know how our mothers do it, but sometimes I think they just need an excuse to socialise.” It made her wonder that somewhere down the line, when both Ellie and Gabby were older, if they would be in the same positions as their mothers too. But she couldn’t fathom that thought right now, as it merely seemed like a bizarre alternate universe in her mind. “I totally get that feeling though. I can’t say no to my mother either, at least those events keep them entertained, right?”  

[eleanorhirsch]

— CLEO HALLIWELL.

Many times, roughly about ninety-five percent of the time, Cleo talks just to hear their voice drowning the surrounding atmosphere. It’s a horrendous trait to have, but it’s frequently caused them to win arguments and get points across because she never backs down. However, in other circumstances, it’s a way to fill the air in lighthearted jests rather than allowing either one to spiral into thoughts ─ the ones that are frequently unwelcomed. It’s not like anything is feeding laboriously on their conscience recently. But, she knows the younger woman like the back of her hand and knows the family complications, lack of family, lack of members, to be precise, weigh on the others. It may not be stated outwardly, but being intuitive and a frequent observer, it has the blonde knowing how to handle these evenings of gathering with activities rather than silence.

It’s partially why the sound of a jazz playlist blasts through the outdoor speakers, allowing them to imagine they’re caught in the middle of filming La La Land ─ or something else, but preferably the last movie as it’s made Cleo a fan of Damien Chazelle. Alas, it was a mere distraction as she waited for a response from Ellie about Hollywood and the tendency to run late. Just as expected, always being right, the youngest Hirsch responds with an answer that she awaited for. Immediately, it caused the blossom of life to encapture her features: azure eyes gleaming brighter than Sirius A, mouth corners in its unfamiliar upward positioning, and shoulders relaxing. “As usual, I’m right,” she hums, brows dancing merrily, “But yes, it does earn the Cleo Halliwell stamp of approval. Which might I say is the only approval worthy.” In regards to wine or reality television positions, then yes, but otherwise? The blonde is just another fish in the whirlpool of entrepreneurs with little-to-no pull whatsoever. For a moment, however, importance fluttered over them at once, which caused the next statement to come out fiery: “Duh, drop everything, hurry on over to spill all of the details, sister!”

Shortly after their words, Cleo has taken their seat at the dining table and the assortment of treats awaiting their indulgence. Head turning to catch a glimpse of Ellie, all of the power to speak remains mute as they simply beam ─ but not in the devious way like they’re planning on manipulating someone. No, in the manner of how nice this evening will turn out to be and if they can joke, while focusing at the task at hand, then this is the blonde’s favorite kind of meetings. “You know I’m a straight shooter. I have no implications with saying things the way I see them or what I want,” they point out with a vaulted brow before a hand swats it away. Now, they’re picking up the four cards with the ingredients used in each sangria sample. Each product is different than the next, but a particular indecisiveness has fluttered over the brand owner. This drop is not only essential because the market for sangria is growing, but this will be the first item to hit domestic shelves as her rose and chardonnay, will eventually make it’s way. “I do, and the note cards as well. I think we should start off slow ─ particularly with the first flavor: a dark sangria with spiced syrup made of citrus peel, cloves, star anise, and cinnamon,” she states, “Just by that description alone, what do you think?” 

☆

Cleo always exuded a sense of confidence that Ellie wished existed in herself. Acting, was what she excelled at. Including pretending to be self-assertive before blinding lights and flashing cameras. An imposter. The brunette often thought herself to be, but very few managed to witness that side of her. That version of herself was sealed tightly shut in a proverbial box, only to be unlocked when certain insecurity or tragedy came attacking her in full force. No, in this moment, she wasn’t unhappy. Her sunny disposition was nothing but genuine. But there were days when the clouds were darker and her mood shared the same sentiment. So she always did what she was good at, portraying a version of herself that people liked to surround themselves with. With her friend’s exposure to the spotlight, she knew they would somewhat understand the feeling just the same. 

But business aside, tonight was a joyous occasion. As the soft score played in the background, the familiarity of it all brought a gentle smile upon her lips, wandering further into the backyard as her hazel hues surveyed her surroundings. Cleo had a great taste, and Ellie supposed that was one of the many reasons why it made her business successful, or rather the successful career she led already. “You know, maybe it might do you some good if you’re wrong on the off chance,” She said in jest, her smile widened into a grin to indicate she was being all but serious. “I dread to think what it must be like to work for you.” Chuckling, she shook her head in thought. Her comment didn’t intend to be an insult, of course, as her friend’s assertiveness was what made her a great businesswoman. In Hollywood, Ellie’s bosses was ever changing depending on the project she was working on at the time. But ultimately she wondered if that position fell to her agent. At least, with his controlling manner, it seemed like he had more authority over her life nonetheless. “Well, unfortunately for you, I have no details for you right now. What can I say, I’m dating and suddenly everyone wants to know every detail of it. Can’t we just leave it at I’m dating?”

Following suit, Ellie took the empty seat before Cleo as her eyes scanned over the plethora plates of food before them once again. One thing for sure, was that the pair of them was not going to be able to stomach all of this on their own. But it was better than drinking on an empty stomach anyway. “I know you do, which is why I think owning a business is perfect for you. You’d cut all the bullshit anyway. Have you thought about being an agent? You know, you might be good at that too.” But their attentions were finally turned to the purpose of their meeting tonight. The sangrias alone looked pleasant enough to her, and while her family owned a winery, she actually was no connoisseur at these things. As long as they tasted nice enough to her, then there would be no complaints slipping from her lips. “Hm,” She pursed her lips as she mulled over for the description for a moment. “Sounds...spicy. In a good way, but it can be an acquired taste to some people. Unique enough that people will be interested, but it only works if it tastes good too. So do I get to try them or what?”

[eleanorhirsch]

special delivery for → @roryhirsch​​​​​​​ location: hirsch residence / ventura time: april 20th, 8pm

Cool aunt Ellie was a nickname that the youngest Hirsch self-proclaimed ever since Rory, to their mother’s delight, brought a grandchild to their ever expanding family. Although her older brother’s relationship with Adam hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing, she was glad that in the past year or so, her nephew was living in a closer proximity to the rest of the Hirsch clan. Granted, she didn’t have the privilege to spend much time with Adam, knowing her brother needed that more, and the fact that her schedule rarely aligned with many of their family dinners. 

Which was why Ellie was took advantage of this family gathering when she showed up to find her nephew paying a visit at the Hirsch household tonight. After the usual family dinner, she noted that Adam probably didn’t want to sit around listening to adult conversations, and with a nudge of her head towards to back of the house, she managed to form some excuse so they could sneak out onto the back porch. They were in the middle of a rather friendly heated discussion whether Ellie’s social media presence had much clout (a word that, she had no knowledge off until Adam taught her just mere moments ago) if they were to collaborate in a TikTok together, when her phone suddenly lit up, her caller ID revealing no other than her agent himself.

“Hold that thought,” Ellie jumped up from the porch swing, before pressing the phone to her ears. Have you finished reading the script I’ve sent you yet? The stern tone in his voice caused the whites of her eyes to reveal as they rolled towards the back of her head. “About that, I’m almost there.” Almost there? You said that two days ago. Have you been dicking around again? “No, I haven’t been dicking around, I—” She stopped her short, shooting a cautious glance over at Adam, his gaze remained on her, making her wonder if he heard the profanity that just slipped out of her lips without thinking. “Look, let me check my schedule and if I’m free, then I’ll get it done by tomorrow. I’m putting you on speaker.” As she brought her phone before her, tapping away to find her calendar app, Adam creeped up behind her and yelled, causing the brunette to jump and losing her grip on the device as it came crashing onto the ground. “Shit, Adam!”

Shit. Hazel hues widened, as Ellie pried her eyes from her phone, before staring at Adam. To her dismay, he repeated her words once again. Shit, shit, shit. “I’m going to call you back.” She uttered down the phone before hanging up, rushing over to her nephew in panic. “Adam, don’t say that.” Shit. “Oh my god, please, your dad won’t want to hear you saying that.” Then, a mischievous grin stretched across his features. Fine, what does dicking around mean then? “You weren’t supposed to hear that! Don’t say that either!” Her stomach sank as she shot a frantic look at the door before turning back to him. But it was too late. If anything, her panic only encouraged him to utter the profanities louder. Burying her face into her palms, her mind wracked for some solution that would end this nightmare already. Preferably before Rory found the pair out in the back porch with his son saying a plethora of curse words before her.