APOCALYPSE.

Matthias Carlson. forty. private investigator. ❝ lying on the g r o u n d — feeling like a dyin' man...no reality, fading MEMORIES, following the crowd. Coulda been a s t r o n g e r man, plead insanity...❞

[matthiascarlson]

— GEORGINA LIVINGSTON.

Matthias’ questions fails to astound her as she remains composed and level-headed with her thoughts and demeanor. He may not know, but this inquiry isn’t the first time she’s received them. Quite a few people, those closest to her, always wonder if the Mellon’s had something against her ─ which the answer was always no. But the issue with her former-in-laws is their lack of effort to focus on things other than their problems. Every little thing, which many of the situations over the years were mundane from her perspective, were blown out of proportion. They loved and cared about Geo and the kids, but in fleeting attempts and brief interruptions when they remember they forgot someone’s birthday or an essential holiday. At this point, it doesn’t bother her anymore because Asher and Joanna have a cluster of blood relatives and found-family that will make up for the missing half.

However, the male opposite of her is in the dark so he asks either out of courtesy or curiosity. So, after the stillness enveloped her and the birthday party’s remembrance in the backyard remained sturdy in its celebration, the woman cleared her throat, ready to explain. “No, they loved us, but it was always shown in complicated ways which were uncharacteristic to me because my grandparents were always involved.” Crushing any assumptions being made by the other, Geo’s delicacy remains in the center of her expression and throughout her silvery falsetto. “They are…..” Shifting her position, her digits run through her loose beach-waved locks out of strain to what she’s going to disclose next, “ ─ sorry were due to their disappearance, but they were a bunch of selfish people. Everything was about them and their problems. Anything else wasn’t important and unworthy for them to care about,” she explains in defeat, feeling the tension swallow her whole. Rarely does she say anything horrific about someone, let alone her in-laws, but to help the male paint a picture of the kinds of beings they were.

Once stating her words to get the point across, an unexpected set of information is shared into the atmosphere. Hazel optics widen to the size of ping pong balls swatted from one end to the next, startled by the development of Geo having additional property. Did she sign a document Tucker set on her desk unexpectedly one evening in a daze? How long had he been planning to keep this detail buried? All of these questions would remain unanswered because of his passing. But holy fuck, this isn’t what she expected to find out and hear. The affair and the money laundering was one element, but another set of land is a category that would’ve never crossed her conscience. “I have property?” Dashing out of her mouth in a question, far from asking Matthias to repeat the information to her, but to process everything by saying it to herself. “Okay….” Murmuring to shake off the staggering feeling gripping her whole, she says next, “I’ll have to read about the property in the folder then.”

⬗

Matthias was no strange to the family dynamic of the Mellon’s. If anything, meeting the family only tainted his first impression of them as a whole. But he wasn’t paid to judge anyone (if anything, he would happily do that for free); all that mattered was that he would bring forward the information that his clients seek for, and in return he was given money for it. That was what he was good at. Finding information, tracking people down — he would thank those two years in the FBI Academy for that too, but he’d developed his own ways of working since then. If anything, he was probably better off without being constrained to the law. Not that he broke many in the past, but he never made to abide to the norms of society anyway. The trouble this time, was rather the fact that the Mellon’s took advantage of him, taking off before he got his fair share of their deal. The woman before him seemed different than the rest of the family, to say the least, and he sure hoped that Georgina wouldn’t take off like them. Not when she seemingly had her own family here. He shrugged at her response, not necessarily surprised by her words, although he appreciated the confirmation to his assumptions nonetheless. “Well, it’s what I thought, anyway. They seemed like those kind of people. It hardly seems like they’re the kind of people to claim responsibilities for anything they’ve done in their lives, judging by their sudden disappearance, at least.”

It was even more of a blow to wound, had he been in the woman’s position to find out their cheating spouse shared a property another person but themselves. Matthias thought it was even more ironic that the man decided to place it under her name, as if that wouldn’t eventually bite him in the ass somewhere down the line. Although he really didn’t need to face the consequences, considering he was buried six feet underground right now. But then again, he wasn’t here to sympathise with Georgina. Sympathising was what got him into trouble beforehand, and he learnt better now than to fall for the same trap again. “Yeah, the house is in Los Angeles. In Westwood, specifically. All the papers related to it are in there,” He gestured at the folder between them again. “And the keys too.” He added, in case she wanted to visit the place for whatever reason in the future. “Listen, I know this is...a lot to take in. Especially when you seemed to be busy with something else tonight. I have my card here, in case you have questions about it as I’ll be in town for a little while.” He fished his card out his wallet, before sliding it across the table to her. “However, as I said before, I can’t let this go for free. I know the Mellon’s left you with this mess...again, but I’m just doing my job here.” 

[matthiascarlson]

— MADELYN SOK.

“Well I do have to make a living.” It reveals nothing and implies everything at the same time. Maddie isn’t arrogant enough to think that Matthias keeps up with her shipping business, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he had a rough inkling about her legal dealings. He was in the business of information after all. “Is that your way of implying that I should get some work done?” Some people might be offended. Not Maddie though. She was amused. “Because careful what you imply. I might come back as someone completely different and ruin your life.” 

Pleased enough with his reply though, Maddie leans back in her seat as casual as ever. “Location and general whereabouts. I can only guess that they’re in LA area still, but who knows?” She shrugs. It’s been years after all. For all she knew, the guys behind murdering her former fighters were dead themselves. And if they were - well, they were getting off easy. “I’ve got a couple of names - I can send them over to you if you accept the job. They both ran with some gangs that hold out near the warehouses by the Port of LA.”  

⬗

“What do you do for a living now, anyway?” He questioned, it was a matter of curiosity and his nature to be inquisitive at the same time, perhaps it was one of the many reasons why Matthias finally found himself to be committed to something for once. It wasn’t as though he ever tried, but it wasn’t until now when he realised, just how little he knew about Maddie. “You said it, not me.” He raised his hands in mock defence, before shrugging lightly, a scoff falling from his lips at her comment. “I’d like to see you try,” He smirked. “I’m starting to think the island life might be a little too dull for you, after all.”

“It’ll help if they’re in L.A.,” He nodded, although with business involved, his mind drifted briefly to his daughter for a moment. Matthias wasn’t supposed to take up extra business while he was here, but this seemed convenient enough for him, at least based on the provided the information Maddie was giving to him right now.  “Gangs?” His brows rose slightly, before his eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, his mind racing, trying to figure out just what exactly the brunette was getting herself tangled up with. “Is this going to be a dangerous job, Maddie?” 

[matthiascarlson]

— MADELYN SOK.

“Darling,” she gasps, hand splaying across her chest in mock hurt, “I’m offended that you think I’d be that bad at small talk when it’s all the 1% thrives on.” The sarcasm positively drips from her voice, and her eyes certainly don’t make it seem like she’s being sincere about the hurt either. But then again, Maddie knows that Matthias it all too aware of that. Frankly, one of the few things she appreciated about Matthias was that he could tell when she wasn’t being sincere and that there was very little room for bullshit between them. But even she’d be lying if she said she’d deny herself a little fun while they were interacting. 

It’s no secret of course that she prefers Teddy over his brother. Maddie knows that she doesn’t need to say it either. So instead she goes right into business. “I need information on someone. Discreetly. And I hear you might be the person to do it.” 

⬗

Her dramatic response merely caused his eyes to roll, although the corner of his lips twitched slightly nonetheless. “I didn’t know you liked hanging out with the 1%, maybe you have been on the island far too long. Am I expecting you to show up with work done on your face next?” It was group in question that drove him away in the first place. The nice falsities and mindless chatter about their own money and wealth — he knew, at a young age, it was not a place he fitted in. Even with the Carlson name attached to himself. Still, Matthias didn’t hold back. Not anymore. It wasn’t like he had a reason to when it came to the woman before him. Maddie knew it would be much worse if he decided to play nice in the first place.

Although he was glad, when the conversation shifted to more business-like, and Matthias sat up straight as he listened, brows raising with interest at Maddie’s words. He couldn’t help but wonder just why, she needed this to begin with. Or what kind of trouble she got herself into, for that matter. “Okay, what kind of information are we talking about here? You know I can do discreet, that’s not a problem.” He would be offended if she even doubted his ability in that, if anything. “I need to start somewhere, so you’ll have to at least give me some background on this person, if I’m going to take this job.” 

[matthiascarlson]

— HOLLIDAY CARLSON.

For all that she dislikes her brother-in-law, the Carlson matriarch is a worse fate still. Walt’s death had, believe it or not, pinched her face and grace even more than Holly remembered. The man (boy, in his mother’s eyes) had been her first-born, the child she’d weighed with her love and expectation. 

They say that the more one loved, the more they had to give — but the way she loved Walt, it’d most likely meant the less she had for her other children. (Teddy, of course, is hardly factored into the equation.) 

He wouldn’t answer her question. No, wait; the things she’d wanted, but even Holly knew that was a petty lie. Even if it wasn’t, sending her remaining son (remember, Teddy isn’t in their equation) halfway across the country to California to pick up some of her belongings — god, Holly knows she is an odious creature to the sensibilities of Mrs. Carlson, but a text or an email required nothing personal. Words could be pinched straight from the air and arranged in a semi-pleasing manner, and nobody would be the wiser to her intent. 

That was the answer to his appearance at the estate. The appearance to her, however — that remained the mystery. Of course, the man had been denied all his life. It was only natural that he’d deny her too of what she wanted. Holly understood that game; relished in it, even. The rules of the game were this: the more she harped on it, the less likely she’d get an answer. He’d delight in dangling the piece of information in front of Holly’s eyes like bulge-eyed fish ready to be caught. And hook, line, sinker, he’d get what he’d wanted like he always did. 

She moves on. “Would you like something to drink? Before you go on your search. For the things your mother wants.” Tones clipped and airy, she opens the fridge, satisfied that the insides boasted an array of colors, glad that Matthias didn’t have to face her embarrassment of a poorly-stocked fridge. “Water, juice…” Her hands rummage past the plastic bins of spinach though she knows what she wants would not be found in the fridge. “Wine, if you want.” An air of cheerful casual surrounding it, like she didn’t always have a glass at 3PM. 

Even before Walt’s untimely demise, Matthias always felt like an errand boy between his mother and Holly. Granted, the Carlson matriarch would not dare to question Walt’s love for his wife considering he was their golden boy. But that didn’t mean his mother would admit defeat so easily. It was as though his brother’s death had gave her the ammunition to attack his sister-in-law, ready to bleed her dry even if he insisted this was all stemmed from paranoia. 

It piqued his curiosity, nonetheless. How comfortable the life Holly was leading now in his old childhood home, running in parallel to the way Walt behaved when he was still alive before. In contrast, Matthias spent a good part of his childhood working twice as hard as Walt ever did to gain their parents’ attention — until he came to the realisation that none of his efforts mattered for as long as his older brother graced this earth. He would even dare to say that the woman before him grew even more relaxed now that Walt’s presence was missing. Maybe that was him manifesting his own thoughts into her, or rather, his mother’s words was playing tricks with his mind.

He gauged her reaction, as his answer lingered in the air. Matthias had no reason to owe Holly any answers, nor did he think he ever owed anyone anything (besides the matter of money, of course). The answer was half-hearted, conjured up in an instance without a second thought. Whether she believed him or not, the only thing that mattered was that she would not interfere with his investigation as a whole. As long as they stayed out of each other’s ways, and that the woman was proven to be not guilty, then he would be on his merry way, and they could return to not talking again. 

His thoughts were quickly answered when there was a shift in mood, as his eyes watched as Holly moved around the kitchen — something oddly strange about that as his mother would not even set foot anywhere near this room if she could get someone else to perform various chores for her. “Water will be fine,” He answered, before raising a brow at her latter suggestion. “Isn’t it too early for wine?” He asked, although it wasn’t like he never got day drunk before. Rather, he wondered his concern fell briefly, for a moment, at his nephew instead. “You make it sound like it’s a regular thing for you. I’m not judging, of course, but I didn’t know the island life had been that tough on you.”

[matthiascarlson]

— GEORGINA LIVINGSTON.

The longer Geo gazes at the in-depth report about her husband; her contact-lensed optics begin to blaze and blink profusely to combat the drought that she’s occupied by. It had been one thing to know about the affair and to have a chance to put a face to the mistress. However, the story changes when it comes to money laundering and apparent attempts of cheating the system by the man who was supposed to be her forever. It’s a line that Georgina wouldn’t dare to cross. Nor had she suspected this would’ve happened from Tucker ─ but then again, the brunette knew if his death hadn’t been in the equation, she would’ve filed for divorce and made him pay for the price of his infidelity. The accident simply did her a favor. “Um ─” The single word has been a constant statement from her behalf since his arrival. It slips from the confines of her mouth because she’s processing everything now. “They just wished a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to the kids and myself,” she says, “Nothing unusual for them to keep it short, though. They have always been finicking with speaking to me, but I can understand why.”

All of the years of wander, along with the disconnection with her in-laws, had an explanation behind it. Or enough of a resolution that she’ll accept for their fleeting appearance in their grandchildren’s life. But discomfort graces her causing a shift in the authoritative seat. “Matthias, if that’s okay if I call you that?” Song-bird falsetto questions him after quietude gripped her whole, hues peering toward the male with an inquisitive brow. “I’m assuming my former in-laws knew about Tucker’s investments but were they co-conspirators?” Disgust dares to ride over her features and consume her whole, but this isn’t the kind of being she is. Sure, this interaction takes her by surprise and leaves her speechless, but this ─ the truth ─ will give her the clarity and reason to move on finally. So, after asking the weighted question, hazel hues begin to divulge further into the folder’s containment while avoiding Matthias’ statement about Tucker’s agreement to the pre-nuptial. Protecting the assets could’ve pushed him into the heinous crimes, but the woman thought about their future children and what they deserved, which was a world free of complications and worries about finances. “Everything I do and did in the past, is because I had in my kids in mind.”

However, she can’t help but feel there’s something more lingering in the air. Coming here and sharing the information is something she appreciates, but by the sound of her former in-law’s lacking presence and the case being thrashed in her direction, it smells like money is being looked for. Observing the gentleman for another moment, the sensation of her bridge gnaws together. “I hate to jump the gun before knowing everything, but….” A laborious pause settles between her silver-toned falsetto, hands collapsing into one another. “I feel like there’s another reason why you’re here.” 

⬗

Matthias was no stranger to estranged relationships within a family. If anything, perhaps that would be the story of his life with his own family. Partially at fault for that himself, although he would ultimately point his fingers in the directions of his father and older brother instead. While one was out of the equation, it didn’t bring him the serenity he desired. The memories of Walt lingered even if he was buried six feet underground, and maybe, that was his final parting gift to the lives of the ones he scarred; what a cynical thought to have, it wouldn’t surprise him if that was true. His own brother had a way of belittling people, so much so it became a second nature to him. In-laws, however, was something he wasn’t entirely familiar with. After all, his first marriage was the only one he ever dared to make an effort, while the other was merely for the sake of image for Florence. It made him wonder just why the woman sitting before him wasn’t as close to the Mellons as he anticipated, and without even a second thought, the question slipped right past his lips. “Why? Do the Mellons not like you, or something? Not even their own grandchildren?”

He nodded curtly at Georgina’s question, even if addressing him by his full name irked him slightly; Matthias knew it was not her fault, but rather it stemmed from his history with his own family. He sat up straighter at her next words, before shaking his head faintly as he spoke up again. “They were aware that they were giving money to help out with Tucker’s investment, but they were kept in the dark with what he decided to with the money. The money laundering and insider trading, for example.” He gestured at the paperwork spread out on the desk before them, as he continued. “At least, that’s what I’m assuming anyway. Considering the shock on their face and the way they dropped off the face of the earth, I guess they’re trying to salvage the last of the finances why they can. I can’t say with the most certainty that what they get involved in was completely legit either.” At least, the signs were pointing towards said direction anyway. But with no payment, he decided not proceed with the part of the investigation, as it didn’t benefit him in any shape or form.

“Right,” His lips pressed into a thin line for a moment, as Matthias debated how much he should disclosed to Georgina when she addressed him again with another question. There was in fact something else he would like to discuss about, but it was treading into sensitive territory where she could read in the files in her own time if needed. But in the end, he decided to rip off the bandaid, meeting the woman’s gaze as his words cut into the thin air. “Your late husband had another property, with his mistress. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but the property was under your name. I’m guessing it’s because your finance records are cleaner than his, but it’s still rightfully yours, especially now that he’s passed away.”  

[matthiascarlson]

— TEDDY CARLSON.

In an instant, and before he could protest against the gesture, Florence welcomes his presence with a firm hug. It takes a while for his body to register it, let alone yield to the touch — but when it does, he embraces her with just the same intensity, crouching slightly to meet his niece’s smaller stature. As he wraps himself up in the embrace, Teddy notes amusedly that her sunny disposition is, without a doubt, in contrast to her father’s sour own. It is an irony not lost on him. That Matthias, who’d grown up with such glaring detachment and coldness, would bring up a child so drastically different, so warm. Come to think of it, he could say the same thing about Declan. Teddy supposes that’s what so great about the heart of the child: to be so trusting, innocent, carefree. In a way the siblings themselves never truly were. 

Expectedly, the embrace is cut short, at Matthias’s behest, to Florence’s disappointment. His niece puts up a little bit of a fight before she acquiesces to her father’s request, stalking away back to the couch with an air of juvenile petulance. It’s a harmless, almost petty, anger, not at all simmering as his had been, erupting only until —

And before he lands on the thought of his (no, their) late brother, Teddy halts his train of thought. No time for that slippery slope of guilt and shame and — dare he say it — vindication. Not when there are far more pressing issues at bay and Matthias is, and just as expectedly, dead-set on dancing around the discussion. Business to attend to? He almost wants to laugh, but then he pauses, thinks he ought to take advantage of the free drink first before launching into full-fledged mockery. 

“Beer would be fine,” he says, leaning against the kitchen countertop. Crossing his arms, he takes to surveying his brother, searching for whatever tiny smidge of weakness he could find to little avail. This is not new; he has never learned to read him. But there is one person far less opaque than the siblings were, so instead, he says, “You say you’re here on business, but Flo says you’re on vacation, and that’s why you guys are back.” A raise of an eyebrow. “Tell me, who am I supposed to listen to?” 

⬗

The same nagging worry always creeped into the back of his mind whenever Florence tagged alongside him, and Matthias brought her near to any members of their family. That just the presence of Walt and their father alone would corrupt the light inside his daughter’s eyes. For that, it was why he drove such distance between himself and the rest of the family, although it was an easy feat considering he was never the golden child, or wielded any talent like Teddy did with his music career. He was the black sheep, the family disappointment — the thought used to form a blanket of darkness over his childhood. But now, with his priority shifted, and those thoughts were merely an annoying itch to him, although never forgotten. 

Perhaps the reasoning why Matthias was less reluctant about returning to Catalina was that the two culprits that caused terror in his life were evidently absent. Walt was buried six feet underground, and their father would never dare to cast his pride to one side to ask him for help. Maybe, he was a momma’s boy, or the fact that the Carlson matriarch mastered the art of manipulation just as well as the rest of their family. It ran in their blood. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew that trait ran deep inside him, it was why his business remained standing and how he coaxed information out of people when anyone ordinary cannot. 

So when his mother requested that he needed to look into Walt’s death, Matthias knew too well to be naive and cross out the rest of the family without a second thought. Especially when him and Teddy had never been close throughout their lives. He would even go as far as saying his mother didn’t go amiss to him either, but he ought to know better than to be the reason to cause her shrill voice echoing down the corridor of his parents’ household.

He nodded curtly at Teddy’s response, fishing out two bottles and twisting the caps open, before pushing one towards his half brother. Matthias took a generous gulp of his drink, buying himself time as he mulled over his question — a twinge of annoyance rippled through his being at Teddy’s inquisitiveness. His gaze narrowed slightly, before placing the bottle back on the counter as he met his brother’s dark hues. “Business for me, and vacation for Flo. She never really got to spend time here, so I’m killing two birds with one stone. You know I would hardly call Catalina a vacation for me,” He gave him a pointed look, as he continued. To make his case more convincing, his shoulders deliberately slumped slightly as the next words slipped from his lips. “And mom wants me to pick up some of her stuff for her. You know her, she’s not exactly a fan of Holly, so,” He shrugged. “What’s with the sudden interest, Teddy?”  

[bob-belcher]

[matthiascarlson]

— HOLLIDAY CARLSON.

Holly couldn’t mistake the air of pomp in his voice, taunting her — if she annoyed the Carlson matriarch with her presence, she is positively incensed with Matthias’s appearance, what with his smug, unbothered demeanor towards her. And of course, their mother made no secret of disliking Holly. Hating her, even.

“Your mother’s problems always seem to concern me, doesn’t it?” She starts reorganizing the kitchen counter, as spotless as it is (the one thing his mother did right was hire good house staff), if only to keep her hands busy while they spoke. She is headstrong, she knows, but even she couldn’t stand the weighty gaze of Matthias Carlson. Too similar to her dead husband’s, she supposes.

Of course, she’d almost forgotten about Florence. Darling little Flo, sick and without a mother — at least Declan was the picture of health. Some days she thought that he had too much energy. Thankfully, practice always wore him out earlier than usual. “He’s at soccer practice,” she replies. “He’ll be back with the nanny at around 5. I’m sure he’d love to play with Florence afterwards.”

And because the suspense is killing her, she finally stops her idle work, allowing her arms to wrap around her chest. Holly takes a single breath, and then two, before staring straight into his eyes with a fury she reserved for the people she hated most. “So, really, what are you doing here?” She had never been under the impression that any of the Carlson children particularly liked the estate, as sprawling and luxurious as it was. From what she could gather from Teddy, the place is nothing but a time capsule of bad memories. Even Walt, back when they’d first married, had been eager to move away, far away from the island. Like it was darkness threatening to consume him.

⬗

He ought to treat Holly like any of his clients — stoic and emotionally detached, yet because the woman was still considered as family, the change of demeanour would only give himself away. The true intention of why Matthias was really here. His mother would only barge into this room with all guns blazing, which, as he learnt after forty years of being a Carlson, would hardly resolve anything.

“What can I say, she likes to blame anyone but herself. You just seem to be her favourite target nowadays.” Matthias answered with a shrug. While he didn’t harbour the same kind of hatred as he did for his own father, he found himself trying to put as much distance between him and his mother anyway. Every conversation only resulted in a blaring headache on his end, especially if the topic revolved the woman standing before her. Even now, the Carlson matriarch seemed to be under the impression that Holly married Walt not for love, but rather his fortune.

Granted, he did want to see how his nephew was doing after all this time, but bringing Florence along was partly a ploy for distraction while Matthias could finally get to work. “Sure. We have plenty of time today anyway. We can wait.” He shot another cursory glance out of the window, mindful that his daughter needed to be kinder with her own body, especially her illness could come unprecedented at any minute. 

Keeping a careful eye on Holly as she manoeuvred around the kitchen, Matthias was taken slightly by surprise when she dropped the nicety and addressed the reasoning his visit instead. He didn’t really blame her for inquiring, not when he was the one who showed up without a warning in the first place. Still, he tried to gauge her reaction, and he wondered if his presence unnerved her. The thought of it only merely cause the corner of his lip to twitch, before his gaze met her own again. “My mother wanted me to pick up a few things for her — said she left a box or two and some old coats, or something.” Which was a complete lie, but one believable enough to cover his actual purpose of being here. “I think I’m doing you both a favour that I showed up instead. Unless you wanted to host her here.” He gave her a pointed look, but not before adding. “Why, do you want to kick me out already?”

[matthiascarlson]

— GEORGINA LIVINGSTON.

A tidal wave, steady motion of one after another, thrashes in the pit of her stomach as her petals press into a fine line. Her reaction is far from readable ─ mimicking a similar riposte nearly three years ago when police showed up and announced the passing of her then-husband in the automobile accident in Los Angeles. The last thing Geo wants is pity. Nor, does she want to be comforted, let alone break down in front of a stranger who will label her as unwell due to a fleeting reaction. After all, people tend to thrash assumptions on others because it’s uncomplicated, judgmental, and reserves them the right to get their hands dirty. So, as rare as it is for her and makes her whole body ache in discomfort, the brunette in a birthday costume remains stoic with shoulders pinned back and expression neutral. Little does Matthias, now putting a name to a face, know that she’s counting each inhales and exhales she takes ─ a method her therapist taught her.

Have you been in contact with the Mellons? A single, yet firm shake of no, starts the route in answering his questions. Her in-laws were an enigma’s to her ─ not in a way that Geo would chase but, every time they were around… it felt like a stranger was in her presence. The stories she heard over the years should’ve made her feel whole to know this insight and details. Yet, every time Tucker opened his mouth, the brunette soon came to realize at the ending of the night at the fine details of his parents were blurred images. They were unmemorable and often non-existent, which goes hand-in-hand with how the kids see their grandparents from the other side of their bloodline. “I spoke to them…” An immediate pause because she had to think long and hard to when they last contacted her. “…. In Christmas of 2019. The conversation was short ─ a minute and thirty-seconds, to be exact. You might not believe it, but I rarely spent time with them, but it’s not like my husband was around either.” 

However, silence grips the petite woman as digits attentively flip through the content provided for hazel optics viewing. It’s until Geo comes across nearly twenty of Tucker with his mistress. It takes a fleeting glimpse to make her organs shrivel themselves in preparation to shed a layer of scales ─ identical to snakes shedding the unnecessary layer off. For the longest time, three years, to be precise, curiosity gripped her about who this woman is and what she looked like. Just a mere observation informs Georgina that looks-wise make them popular opposites. The mistress was tall, legs for days, and with self-confidence glowing her protruding belly, whereas the wife struggled with her confidence after Asher with layers, brittle locks, and tear-stained sandy complexion. “I found out about the affair a short time before his passing.” An uncharacteristic interjection lurches from her behalf, avoiding every ounce of eye contact. “So, you don’t have to…” talk about it, is what she intends to express, but her throat closes on itself. “But I didn’t know about the money laundering. Tucker and I had separate accounts from the moment we got married, and I made sure of it in our prenuptial agreement.”

⬗

Everyone was innocent until proven guilty — was what Matthias was taught when he entered into FBI academy, until he inevitably had to drop out because of his colour blindness. With that, he supposed he was never going to be in the law enforcement because with every client, the first impression actually mattered. As the woman was associated to the Mellons, he couldn’t help but turn up with some preconceived judgement beforehand. Every time that thought arise, it was quickly quashed by the photos enclosed in that document. As much of a failure his father would like to remind him whenever they were in a room together, at least he didn’t commit the crime of infidelity. That, he could hold like a badge of honour over his own father. Which was why he didn’t hold much hope for a family like the Mellons either. Yet as he entered in this household, it contained a certain warmth that didn’t exist in the Carlson estate, nor within the Mellon household. Which was why he felt a little more inclined to listen to the woman before him. “What did you guys talk about, if you don’t mind me asking?” As anything to indicate their whereabouts, the better. “No, I suppose he wasn’t.” He uttered, insinuating to Tucker Mellon’s infidelity, which was included in his file of research.

Carefully, Matthias watched as Georgina delve into the file. It was not something that was easy to stomach, unless, perhaps, she was used to dealing with the likes of the Mellons, like he was for a living. He could only assume that she wasn’t, but unlike some of his clients, the brunette didn’t crack before him either. He wondered just how long, she knew about the affair. Then as if she had read his mind, she answered his question with a brisk response. “That’s fine, it’s in there if you want to look at it. That just came up while I was looking into their finances. Saying that, I can’t just let this go for free.” Call him heartless, but if he felt sorry for every single one of his clients, his business wouldn’t run by now. Granted, one moment of weakness eventually brought his daughter into his life, but he didn’t want to take that risk again. “I won’t lie, I’m surprised he agreed to signing a prenuptial agreement.” Maybe that was why, he decided to take the path of corruption in the end. “That, alongside with insider trading as well. He seems to be blowing his money on investments and in return, used his family’s money when he got desperate. It’s safe to say they’re on the brink of bankruptcy. Perhaps it was a good idea that you signed that agreement after all.” 

[matthiascarlson]

— GEORGINA LIVINGSTON.

Georgina doesn’t know what to expect, let alone what to prepare for mentally and physically. While the conversation may be unfolding in the familiarity of her home, a territory where she instantly should have a one-up, indicates nothing. When things get intolerable, she can’t change the topic when it pleases her. Or revolt in full force with evidence for whatever brought this gentleman to her doorstep ─ of all days, on the eve of her son’s birthday and his party. It may be the only day he had free, given it’s a Sunday, to accomplish his work or to resight more bad news. Still, the woman who welcomed him into her home occupies the head seat in the room, feeble and fearful for what’s next to come. Will this have an impact on the kids? Or predominantly with the matriarch of the house? It’s not like she’s heard anything from her parents about concerns or things not working out in their favor. Their communication line is open and honest ─ it always has been from the moment their eldest entered their world.

But what could it be? ─

I’m Matthias Carlson. Private Investigator. Mellons.

The announcement of who he is and his business line is ushered in a glacial drift into the room. Goosebumps find themselves emerging underneath the long-sleeved layer of her custom-made costume, hazel optics vast due to complete and utter awe. The null-filled conscience doesn’t know what part to begin to process first. Either his potential affiliation with the two other Carlson’s that she came across the isle in the last six months? Or, the fact her deceased husband and his enigma-riddled family has done something that she feels to clean up? Perhaps it’s both at the same time. Either way, the silence from her behalf is deafening and indicates this brief detail startles her shitless. “Um,” Her silvery falsetto begins weakly, clearing her throat before shifting uncomfortably, “No, I… the Mellons always kept their financials and affairs private with me. They were quite a bit of an enigma to me.”

At the start of her romantic relationship with Tucker, the pairing’s wavelengths moved at dissimilar speeds. Right there, and then, she should’ve noted their marriage would be boomed and full of infidelity, but Geo was young, dumb, and wanted to be in love after Sebastian’s heartbreak. “Thank you.” A meek response parts as she musters a false smile upon her petals once more. Silence engulfs the atmosphere again, optics fixing themselves upon a folder with the word MELLONS written in black permanent marker. All she can feel is the twist and turn of her insides at what’s enclosed. The longer she waits to rip the bandaid off, it will be a blow to the evolvement she’s made. So, washing away her reluctance, a hand takes the folder into her possession to witness a legal document with money laundering in bold. Just holding the folder causes ablaze to the palm of her hands. Lies, years of lies, right underneath her nose blinded by her suffering. “When did this investigation start?”

⬗

Yet even when Matthias wasn’t paid for this work, after being a private investigator for so long in his life, his natural instinct was to get a better read of the woman sitting before her. If anything, he’d now come to the realisation that his involvement with the Mellons was not to Georgina’s knowledge. Even better, from first impression, the brunette didn’t fit the profile of the family he worked closely with over the past year. Facing that family, it didn’t faze him in any way, because he bear witness to the darkness of various clients that, it would take an immense amount to render him speechless. His work only shifted his perception of mankind as a whole in a more realistic manner — that even outside of his own family, there were just as much evil crawling through this earth, perhaps even worse. But the Mellons, they were a piece of work — or rather, their late son was anyway. 

As his gaze remained on the brunette, Matthias could tell that her mind was running a thousand miles per hour until he finally revealed the reason why he paid such unprompted visit tonight. Again, maybe the wrong occasion to be dropping the heavy-loaded file on the woman’s desk, but how on earth would he know he would find himself with a birthday party down the hall in the other vast living room? Her answer didn’t come to his surprise, although it was merely wishful thinking on his part that Georgina would have more knowledge to the Mellon’s whereabouts, or even provide him with information that wasn’t included in his paperwork already. “And have you been in contact with the Mellons? When was the last time you spoke to them?” 

Then he returned to analyse Georgina’s reaction as she took the file from him, wondering if what was included inside would be brand new information to her, or something to her knowledge already. There were also pictures of her late husband photographed with another woman that was clearly not the woman sitting before her inside, and really, he would much rather leave before he had to comfort anyone tonight. Her question pulled him out of his reverie, sitting up a little straighter as he answered. The truth, surely, couldn’t hurt at all that much right now. She was the closest to the Mellons there was right now, and it was just the only loose end he needed to tie up so he could focus on his own family matters instead. “About a year ago. The Mellons hired me to look into some discrepancies into their finances. Turns out your late husband got himself into quite a mess. If anything, his greed got the better of him. Did you have any knowledge of all of this until now?” He asked, gesturing the paperwork in front of them. 

[matthiascarlson]

— HOLLIDAY CARLSON.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, with hardly a moment’s peace in sight, but somehow, Holly manages to find herself a dot of quiet in an endless sea of noise. From phone calls to emails to the mound of crumpled up pages of half-scribbled sheet music, there’d been things to finish and put away, but she takes the stillness to herself. She lies on her Eames lounge, a glass of cold water in her lap. Condensation rolls down the side of the glass and onto her pants, the wet spot growing larger by the second, but she doesn’t take notice.

Declan, gratefully, was still at school. He’d be there until 2:45, and then he’d be at soccer practice from 3 to 4:30, and from there, it would be dinner and then bedtime — and in the pit of her stomach, she feels glad for it. Glad to not have to listen to her son jump on her vintage Mario Bellini and spill ketchup down his shirt.

Did this make her a bad mother?

But then, she remembers what she’d put on the line for him, what she’d done in the end, and how she no longer asks him to lock his bedroom door behind him at night — and she sighs, walking to the kitchen to dump the water out into the sink.

She almost misses him, even with his stature and imposing eyes, but at the last second, stops right in her tracks, blood running cold. She wants to yell at him for dropping by unannounced, but then again, this is his home. In fact, for all intents and purposes, she is the intruder on the estate. “Welcome back, Matthias.” She doesn’t attempt to hug him, like she imagined other people did with their family members. They never were that type of family. “Thought it could use an update. Your mother did have an awful love for the color yellow.” Taking a hesitant half-step to the kitchen, she tries to act as unfazed as possible. “Thought you’d still be kicking around back east, honestly. The sun…” She looks back at him, squinting. “It doesn’t suit you.” 

⬗

It worried him when Florence’s eyes widened with amazement the moment they pulled into the driveway today; on the outside, the Carlson estate looked picture-perfect. Just like the way his father and mother maintained their images over the years, keeping the imperfections like Matthias out of sight, and rather, out of mind too. A part of him wanted to break that illusion for his daughter, but then the other kept his mouth shut, knowing this was only a temporary visit. He would take his mother’s money, return to her with nothing to report, and they would be on their merry way — at least, that was what he wished for anyway.

Especially after Walt’s death, he knew that Holly's presence irked his mother. After all, a lot was inherited by her and their golden boy was lost — to suicide, of all matters. The news had caused a raise of his brow initially, but working in this line of profession, Matthias had seen enough that he was numb to surprises nowadays. He didn’t question much, because he was never close to his brother. The way that Walt shared the same wavelength as their father was something he would preferably stray away from — the toxicity of the pair did not need to pollute the mess of his own life already. So it was hardly sadness he felt at his own brother’s funeral. A sense of nothingness was closer to how he felt that day.

Yet, it was strange to see Holly standing in the middle of his childhood home. As the lady of the estate, no less. Why did she choose to settle here when the option to cut ties with the Carlson’s was right in front of her? Sure, there was the matter of the little one with Walt’s blood running through his veins, but nothing ever stopped Matthias from cutting ties to his family the moment he could. Her remark was enough to cause the corners of his lips to quirk up for a brief moment, before a brow arched as he watched her tentatively set foot into the room. “You might just offend her if she ever decides to visit. But I guess that’s your problem, not mine.” He shrugged.

Letting out a breath, Matthias casted his gaze over to the windows, catching flashes of his daughter’s hair as Florence continued to explore around the vast backyard, before turning back to Holly. “Well, my daughter seems to think otherwise. Where is Declan, by the way? I promised Flo that her cousin is going to be around, and I haven’t seen my nephew in a while.” He surveyed around the kitchen again, before adding. “I hope you don’t mind her running around out in the garden, by the way. She’s a little curious about the place.” The change of it all piqued his curiosity, too. “I’m surprised you stuck around here, to be honest. Isn’t it a little too spacious for just the two of you here?”

[matthiascarlson]

— MADELYN SOK.

Maddie had run into so many different personalities over the course of her life. She could say with certainty at this point who she was going to get along with and who she wouldn’t. Matthias (or “Matty” as she liked to call him just to bother him) was someone that Maddie had known from the get go that they wouldn’t get along. After all, she vastly preferred Teddy over his brother. You didn’t even need to go into anymore detail with that being said. But if there was one thing that Matthias could provide that dear old Teddy Bear couldn’t, it was the ability to track someone down. 

She also knew that even if you didn’t like someone, that didn’t mean that business was off the table. She breezes into the coffee shop that they’d chosen to meet at today, and finds the man in question easily enough. “Matty,” she croons in vast contrast to his greeting to her. “How thoughtful, you know I love a challenge.” Small talk with him is the last thing she’s expecting, but there’s a humoured smile on her face as she slides into the seat across from him. The waiter is at their table in a flash and Maddie gives them a pleasant smile before ordering her own black coffee. “Long time no see. How have you been? Or is small talk not allowed between potential clients?”

⬗

Of course, there was always a part of Matthias that was curious. All prospective clients piqued his interest — because what have Maddie done, or got herself tangled up in that would require his service? Yet, at the same time, the thought of working for her didn’t bode well with her. But like all scenarios, especially when money was involved, that always came first. It was why he was here in the first place, much thanks to his mother, finding out the conditions of his daughter which he had no plan to disclose in the first place. He only hoped he was here to unravel other people’s secret, rather his own. Although he could brand his mother’s concern as paranoia, he wondered if the same could be said for the woman sitting before him.

The nickname was enough to cause his teeth to grit together briefly — using the coffee cup to mask his reaction, Matthias took another sip of his drink. It reminded him too much of Walt goading at him when he was younger, and Maddie certainly didn’t hold back in that regards. For that, he was grateful that his younger brother was the one who had to deal with her. At her remark, the corner of his lip quirked up slightly. “I never thought you were that good at small talk, that’s all. I’m just saving you the pain and trouble here.” He answered with a shrug. “I hardly think you care either.” He couldn’t help but add, trying to gauge her reaction nonetheless as he leaned back against his chair. “Is this actually something business related, or do you really have that much time on your hand to make small talk with me? If so, I thought Teddy might’ve been your first pick for that.”

[matthiascarlson]

— GEORGINA LIVINGSTON.

When planning Asher’s birthday party, the woman had expected the celebration to end by four, five at the latest, so the preceding four hours would give everyone a chance the unwind. The kids would need it considering the high indulgence of sugary treats from this afternoon. So would she. Not only would it make their night routine concluded without any complications, but hopefully, it would impact the following morning because the kids would be ecstatic to go to school and talk about the party. After all, when any celebration of life is thrown on the quaint isle, it’s manages to be the town of the following for the following weeks ─ that is, until another invitation is delivered to the residences mailboxes. For now, she’ll take those who remain in her fluorescent backyard sharing stories amongst each other and snack trays growing clear to linger around a little bit longer before giving the evidential boot.

As her close friends enjoy themselves, full of animations and laughter that she’s eager to partake in due to having a chance to breathe, the echoing sound of the doorbell’s ding dong halts all thoughts. Head whipping to the grand, mahogany-stained front door; her brows knit themselves together. In any other circumstance, she would’ve checked her iPhone but leaving it outside with Nicole, Geo’s left to her own devices to figure out by taking the stride eighty-steps from where she is to where someone is awaiting. It couldn’t be any takeout because someone would’ve told her about it coming. Also, no one else would dare to show up this late, and if they did, someone would’ve texted their apologies first. Whether Geo likes it and she doesn’t, the perplexing feelings occupying her should alert her to ignore it. But no, she’s on the move toward the door because the longer she stands and ponders, all of her civility flies out the front door ─ literally.

With one firm tug of the door’s metal handle, the mother dressed in violet and black elastic with ‘BD’ bubble letters stitched in her abdomen, greets the figure. Instantly, the sight of a tall man with dark locks is staring down at her. “Hi.” A bewildered response parts from her usual silvery, welcoming falsetto, but she’s too fixed on attempting to figure out whether she’s seen this gentleman before or not. His next question causes her head to crane over her shoulder to witness everyone enjoying themselves. “Um ─” A pause, swallowing a lump in her throat before shaking her head. “No, not at all.” Mustering a fallacious smile before a hand cuts through the air to welcoming him in, “Please come inside and follow me to my office.” Once inside, Geo closes the door and guides him down the quiet corridor to the first door on the wall’s left-hand side. It’s a vast space with a desk in the center with built in book-shelfs lining two sides of the wall. “Sit anywhere you’d like.”

⬗

Matthias truly hoped the woman, Georgina, was going to turn him away for his intrusion, especially after he’d shown up unannounced. It became more evident to him that she was in the middle of something when the sight of her in what he could only assume was a costume, when the door finally swung open. Should he not need to maintain professionalism, the corners of his lip threatened to quirk upwards in amusement and a laughter might slip from his lips too. By now, after living for eighteen years on this island, he ought to know that there was always some event ongoing in Catalina. Tonight he just happened to have stumble upon a birthday party as laughter filled in the air, echoing from the other room — it was a sound that could never be found in the Carlson estate unless it was filled with falsity and the wealthiest crowds.

Instead, Georgina invited him inside. Hesitantly, Matthias set foot through the threshold, making a conscious effort to turn his head away from the crowd in the other room to avoid being recognised — knowing this island, most people knew of each other. It was one of the many reasons why he never returned home after college, wanting to be free of the restraints that came with the surname attached to his name. Hazel hues scanned around her office for a moment out of habit, before nodding curtly and taking a seat on the opposite side of her desk. “Thanks for letting me in. Hopefully I won’t be taking too much for your time.” Fishing out a card from his trousers pocket, he slid it across the surface towards her. “I’m Matthias Carlson. Private Investigator. Has the Mellons mention about the work I’ve been doing for them?” 

Leaning back against the cushioned chair, Matthias tried to gauge her reaction, although he knew the answer already. The woman before him didn’t seem much like the Mellons from his interaction with her late husband’s family, and if so, she might have just slammed the door in his face before he could even get a word in. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” He started, as though to soften the blow as he continued. “I’m sure this is the last thing you want to deal with right now, but you’re the only tie left to this case. You see, the Mellons sort of vanished after I delivered this to them.” He placed the folder of his investigator onto the desk. “I’m not sure if you want to take a look at this, or want me to go through any of this with you. But I’m just here hoping to wrap up this case, since your husband’s family only left me with the deposit when they hired me for this.”

[spikes-jonze]

Matthew Goode as David in Four Kids and It (2020)

[matthiascarlson]

— TEDDY CARLSON.

Teddy doesn’t fucking believe it. It’s one thing to be stood up on what would’ve been a lousy date regardless, and another to be stood up by no less than his brother whom he hasn’t seen in ages. He thinks the walk from the Atwater’s Bistro, where he’d spent a better part of an hour waiting for him to arrive, to Matthias’s newly-inducted Avalon home would clear his head. Yet all it does is keep the questions running, and by the time he’s arrived by his front door, he’s all but stomping in his feet and beset with no small amount of rage.

Had his absence been deliberate, another way for Matthias to one-up him? That type of behavior was their brother’s and their father’s. He doesn’t think his brother could be so crass as to emulate them. Yet time changes people, and if there’s another thing separating Teddy and him apart from their coast-to-coast distance, it’s their lack of communication in all these years. How morbidly funny would it be, Teddy thinks, if in Walt’s passing, his brother’s own inclination for cruelty had become activated like some gruesome line of succession.

He’s still operating in that same line of thought when Matthias opens the door, at which point he squeezes through the opening, barely giving his brother time to acclimate to his abrupt visit. At Matthias’s seemingly confounded question, his nose flares, his expression severe. 

“What am I doing here? What am I doing here?” He repeats, incredulous. “You know what, you’re such a fu—” 

Yet his words, and soon enough his anger, is cut off the moment Teddy turns his head towards the couch and finds two wide eyes peeking up at him curiously. “Flo!” Catching himself, he gives his niece with what he hopes looks like a warm smile. “Well, I hadn’t seen you in a while, huh? I didn’t know you were both coming.” He says, before turning back to the older Carlson, an eyebrow raised skeptically. “Well, what brought you guys here?” The question is posed to his niece as much as it is to his own brother, his anger quickly replaced by intrigue.

⬗

Any normal siblings would jump straight into an apology especially when Matthias was the one who’d left his brother high and dry. But apparently not him. He was half-expecting Teddy to agree to meeting out of politeness, considering they were never close growing up, or from what he remembered, anything in common either. Hell, what would they even talk about anyway? Sure, he’d forgotten because he was too busy looking after Florence, but it wasn’t like he ever owed anyone in their family any explanations. No one even knew his daughter was sick except for their mother, and he would prefer to keep it that way.

But Teddy had hardly gave him a moment’s notice before wedging himself through the door; an exasperated sigh fell from his lips, and a remark was hanging on the tip of his tongue regarding his brother’s manners, until he seemingly jumped to the chase first. His anger wasn’t unwarranted, but it was amusement that threatened to surface upon his feature, with a brow arched, daring him to continue until his attention was diverted to Florence again.

Preoccupied by the matter at hand, Matthias had forgotten that his daughter had awoke from her slumber by Teddy’s sudden visit. Uncle Teddy! The brunette jumped up from the couch, beaming and running over to give him a hug. “Easy, Flo,” He couldn’t help but warn cautiously, wary that her sudden surge of energy may backfire after her day of rest. His eyes narrowed slightly at his next question, and he almost wanted to counter with a question regarding his sudden interest when his daughter answered before he could. Daddy said we’re long overdue for a vacation! She turned to Matthias, as though to confirm her answer. He nodded, managing to muster a smile. “That’s right. But ten more minutes for you, then it’s bed time, okay? You can chat to Teddy another day.” As if he could sense his daughter’s incoming protest, he quickly added. “No but’s. You’ve had a long day.” As a stern look crossed his features, Florence pouted, before retreating back to the couch and mumbling what he could assume as insults towards him.

“I had some business to attend to over here.” He added simply with a shrug, when his daughter was out of earshot, as if that was sufficient enough to Teddy’s question as he moved towards the kitchen, before opening the fridge and examining the contents inside. “You want something to drink? Beer?”

[matthiascarlson]

special delivery for → @madelynsok​​​​ location: catalina coffee & cookie co. / lafayette square time: thursday, 2:00pm

Matthias didn’t have many businesses on the West Coast; his firm remained based in Boston, far away from his ties to the family in order to create a life of his own without the restraints of his father and Walt. It’d always been like that for the past two decades or so, until now. Money was always his every struggle and sometimes he was just too damn proud to turn to his family until they became his last resort. Although since his homecoming, he’d already had his handful, from his mother’s insistence to look into his older brother’s suicide, to wrapping up loose ends of a dead man and his shady family — the last he should be doing was to take on another case, but he needed the money.

The client in question was no stranger to him; in fact, there was an apprehensiveness that came when Matthias crossed paths with the woman again. After all, Madelyn had always been closer to Teddy, which was strike one already. Who knew, if she was here to see what his true intention was to return to Catalina? Still, the phone call piqued his curiosity, enough that he arranged to meet her at the local café while he left his daughter at home. Taking a sip of his black coffee, he met the brunette’s gaze when he spotted her at the entrance. “Maddie,” He greeted, nodding curtly as he gestured at the empty seat before her to take, before waving the waiter over. “Coffee? I’m not paying though, unless this is interesting enough for my time.” 

[matthiascarlson]

special delivery for → @georginalivingston​​​​ location: geo’s place / ventura time: february 28th, 6:00pm

When it came to business or pleasure with every visit Matthias paid outside of Boston, the line was often blurred because his work forcibly made him travel, although under the pretence of pleasure so it wouldn’t arise any suspicion to his true intention of the visit. Although this time, the line became more blurred than ever. He was wedging himself into family affair, one that he most certainly didn’t care enough had it not for the money his mother put on the table. Sure, it never sat well in his stomach to turn to his family for help, but he was never the kind to feel the need to explain himself to anyone. That part of him died a long time ago when he left Catalina behind, and he didn’t want to revive it either. 

Besides providing his mother a final closure to his older brother’s death, it was just a matter of convenience that he had another job that was tied to this godforsaken island. The Mellon’s fell into his bad books in the beginning when he accepted them as his client. Lo and behold, their son was tangled in some money launder scheme and insider trading, and within a matter of days, they’d vanished from their family home. With Matthias’ sudden return to Catalina, luck seemed to be on his side that there was one more tie to his case on this island. Plus, he ought to be paid for his hard work too. Although when he arrived at Georgina Livingston’s address, the estate was hardly anything he expected; as he rapped his knuckle against the wooden door, he was beginning to regret paying a visit on this day. The sound of chatter and laughter echoing inside, to the decorations on the outside — he was beginning to turn and leave, until the door suddenly swung open. It took him a moment to regain his composure, before clearing his throat. “Ms. Livingston,” He greeted, recognising the woman from his weeks’ long investigation. “Is this a bad time?” He asked, as his gaze fell to the decorations again.