THERE’S A FRAMED PHOTO OF him and paloma that his mother just loves to bring up at dinner parties, at events hosted at their family mansion outside los angeles, a place that paloma is no stranger to. it features her and harvey, depicted when they were four, maybe five years old, holding hands as they skip down the santa monica pier, eyes glistening as the both of them drool after cotton candy and other colorful things. how naive he was then, desiring only the most SHALLOW and short-lived goods, not worrying about if paparazzi would catch him at a compromising moment. he doesn’t quite remember how they even got along, given that every conversation with her these days feels like a verbal sparring match. “ well, maybe instead of focusing on FORCING us to get along, they could redirect their efforts into producing a better show, ” he responds snidely. honestly — he doesn’t believe his parents even encouraged him to date her: it goes to show how LITTLE they knew about their son, how he hadn’t had a civil conversation with paloma since they were twelve. “ sounds about right — if you do get around to getting that printed on a greeting card, mind sending one to my parents ? they still can’t get it fucking ENGRAINED in their brains that we don’t hang out, let alone have potential to DATE. jesus, the way my mother talks about you makes it sound like you were born in fucking holy water or something. ” he rolls his eyes. “ might i remind you, paloma, that YOU were the one who dragged ME into that interview, okay ? i’ll mind my business if you don’t drag me into yours, how does that sound ? ”
upbeat. just another thing that harvey kieran strathmore isn’t. “ yeah, ” he admits with a nod. “ a goddamned ray of sunshine, i don’t know how he does it. ” but boy — would he like to know. if he had the energy and PATIENCE, he would try and be nicer: but unfortunately, there have been a few more people who have taken advantage of harvey’s name, fame, wealth — you name it, for authenticity and kindness to be his default configuration. “ yeah, like he’s GUILTING her into it, but he thinks she’ll have a good time, too. kind of feel bad for her — harper, i mean. matti’s fucking clueless, but i guess it is only like, the second episode. gotta be some tension there, huh ? ” he says, scribbling notes in his script, hopping up from his chair, adding physicality to his next attempt. “ you’ll come, right ? ” cue a flirtatious, slightly scheming smile. “ i really don’t want to show up alone. ” a feigned sense of light desperation, an expertly placed exhale, an anguished gulp. all tiny TICKS that each and every one of his critics hammered into his mind. “ better ? ” he scratches his head. “ you um … can you read harper’s lines ? ” he’s not particularly used to ASKING people for things, especially paloma.
the laughter the two used to share is close enough for paloma to retain strong , vivid memories of it. with the number of shared imaginary friends , inside jokes and common experiences the two shared at a young age , it was impossible for anyone to foresee how FRACTURED their relationship would become. paloma can still feel the whiplash of going from inseparable childhood friends , to each other’s emotional kryptonite. ❝ maybe instead of telling me , you should talk to the producers directly. or — i don’t know — write them a strongly worded email , if you think your natural dramatics might be off-putting , ❞ she sighs , already feeling herself grow tired of harvey’s cynicism , a trait that undoubtedly pushed her further away as they forged individual paths. as the HAPPY-GO-LUCKY boy faded away ( through his parents’ actions ) , less and less of their friendship seemed remotely salvageable. a fact neither of their families ever seemed to notice , or allow themselves to internalize and understand. though , paloma’s family has always been less pushy about the two of them getting along. ❝ when that card’s printed and ready to be sent out , i’ll be sure use my best calligraphy to let them know that usually , my type’s a little less HARRY BINGHAM and a little more grizz visser. or , in terms they can understand , a little less harvey strathmore , and a little more matti james. at the end of the day , the constant ‘ woe is me ’ act really doesn’t do it for me , ❞ she quips , unable to hold back yet another another sigh , ❝ as for the interview , trust me , i much rather would’ve called over anyone else to help save me from another set of HYPER-PERSONAL questions , but sadly you were the only one close enough for me to grab. it’s a mistake i won’t be making again anytime soon. ❞
she throws a final eye roll harvey’s way , before both settle back into their assignment , their professionalism taking the reins. her head nods ( absent-mindedly ) as harvey runs through his characterization of harvey , trying to get her own hold on HARPER HAYES. as with valentina , paloma finds herself underlining , circling , scribbling in the margins and empty blank spaces of her script , every instinct and thought inspired by the writers’ own words jotted down before she can forget. this is her process , an intimate routine she almost feels harvey is an INTRUDER to , his presence made more obvious as he gets up from his chair. with a final look at her notes , she mirrors his actions , getting up and standing as close as two friendly co-workers would ( which is far closer than she and harvey have , at least since they were twelve ). ❝ it’s not really my scene , ❞ she shrugs , feigned disinterest coloring her words , taking on harper’s character with an ease even she’s impressed by , ❝ plus , i wasn’t exactly invited. ❞ the push and pull of her motivations is all too clear : on one hand , there’s the large crowd of potentially intoxicated strangers but , on the other , there’s her cute co-worker , with whom she’s been DYING to spend time with outside of work. the tension is bizarrely well-suited for the current situation. on one hand , harvey and paloma can barely seem to achieve civility , but , on the other , the characters they take on in the blink of an eye and their COMPLICITY take paloma back to something nostalgically familiar.
