graceless

thea hammond. 28. architect. eberwhite.

[thea-hammond]

eventually you must allow this world to hit you in the face.

As the only child of two very wealthy parents, Thea’s family held high expectations of her from the moment she was born. Mostly raised by nannies until she was old enough to feed herself, Thea made up for her vacant home life by attempting to excel and anything and everything she could outside of it - school, sports, popularity. She made casual friends quickly and easily, and she was good at just about anything she tried.

When she moved to New York for college, she did so assuming it was with the promise of a fresh start. But it was more of the same — only she was the one to blame, now. After her stupidity ended up nearly costing her her life, she swiftly moved back to Ann Arbor and put herself in intensive therapy, determined to work through her shit before it destroyed her. Now, as a reformed hot mess, she’s trying to find out who she is and what her future holds.

[diana-goodwin]

She didn't know why she was here, really. Diana didn't even like thrifting. She understood the ecological importance of reduce reuse recycle, and how it extended to clothing, but Dian could never quite get into the thrifting trend. It was funny what hobbies she was willing to pick up just to find a way to get away from her overbearing mother and ailing father. She hadn't said a word to Grace, but she'd spent all of three days with her parents before remembering why she was so hell-bent on leaving in in the first place. Everything about her family home felt suffocating. Louise was omnipresent, looming over Diana, watching and judging every little move she made. And Bobby, simmering with pain and anger at the state of his health. It made her itchy. It made her reconsider Caleb's offer to let her stay with him and Grace.

So here she was, an excuse to get away from the Goodwin parents, killing time in the thrift store without any real goal for the afternoon. She idly flipped through the racks, barely paying attention to the sizes of clothing, more out of a desire for something to do than to actually find anything to purchase. She would pick up a hanger, put it back on the rack, and continue on, all the while mulling over her father's condition and the choices she and Grace would have to make moving forward. She barely even heard a voice speak out, and only looked up when she heard her name. Diana missed the rest of the sentence, as she looked over at the person who greeted her and remembered quite clearly who Thea Hammond was and how their history unfolded. Her eyes narrowed and wondered at the sincerity of her words.

"Looking for some vintage Gucci to upsell on Depop, obviously," she said, deadpan. "Everyone knows the best shit is in Ann Arbor. I mean, isn't that what you're doing?" she asked, eyebrow raised, prompting Thea to provide her own explanation for her presence.

[thea-hammond]

There was something about Diana that had always been so interesting to Thea; she never existed within the confines of the ideals Thea had for her, never quite ascribed readily to any one label or definition. For as long as Thea knew her in school, she seemed to always sort of function on a modus operandi that was unclear to everyone but her. This made her fascinating, but also threatening - at least, to teenage Thea, who strove to maintain order, who thrived on certainty. Perhaps that was what their pseudo-rivalry had been borne of, really - the idea that Diana was comfortable enough to exist within the margins but still somehow succeeded, seemingly effortlessly.

Even now, her acerbic wit came quickly, and Thea fought to keep her smirk at bay. "Fashion capital of the world," she agreed easily, eyeing Diana as she continued working the way someone observing a rare bird might. She'd always been...intense, but there was something different about this, an edge to the interaction. Thea, fascinated and lacking delicacy, probed: "I thought you'd moved down south?"

[thea-hammond]

@diana-goodwin Finders Keepers Thrift

Thea had always enjoyed a thorough, well-refined plan, even on her days off. The weekends needed to be maximized, in her opinion - and she had plenty she knew she needed to do. Abel moving out had afforded her more freedom over the house, and the opportunity to pay it a bit more attention to it - which had led her to the realization that it was woefully unfinished. She had been consulting Architectural Digests as her bible, dog earring spreads she found particularly inspirational for months; now, it was time to put her planning and brainstorming into action. She'd planned to pick Abel up when he rolled out of bed, which afforded her most of the morning to hit a couple of estate sales. Driving through town on her way to get him, though, she had an idea, and decided to pop into the thrift store. She knew she was picky - she preferred to call it particular - but she was not a snob when it came to quality furniture; she would source whatever she could from wherever she could, and sometimes, she had learned, thrifting was the way to go. As she got a cart - it never hurt to be prepared - she caught a familiar sight ten feet away, head ducked down in the men’s clothing, eyes narrowed as though she was hunting large prey.

“Oh, holy shit,” Thea said plainly. This proved enough to apparently attract the girl’s - woman’s - attention, and Diana Goodwin’s head popped up, her eyes widening in shock, then softening into something a bit more miserable. This made sense, even now — Huron Academy was a small school, and the two of them had always been somewhat adversarial, spending most of their later high school years nipping at one anothers heels. Strangely, Thea couldn’t remember who the antagonist was in their story - her, or Diana. As an adult, from this far away, she only knew one thing: while she had won valedictorian, nobody knew what the hell happened to Diana after graduation, and that had seemed like the ultimate win in Thea’s opinion. She blinked, only then ascertaining that she might have been an interruption. “Diana. Sorry. Hi.” A beat, then, as the pair sized one another up. Thea would have worn something nicer had she known she ran this risk. Curiosity overtook her after a few seconds, and she suddenly blurted, “What are you even doing here?”

[diana-goodwin]

She didn't know why she was here, really. Diana didn't even like thrifting. She understood the ecological importance of reduce reuse recycle, and how it extended to clothing, but Dian could never quite get into the thrifting trend. It was funny what hobbies she was willing to pick up just to find a way to get away from her overbearing mother and ailing father. She hadn't said a word to Grace, but she'd spent all of three days with her parents before remembering why she was so hell-bent on leaving in in the first place. Everything about her family home felt suffocating. Louise was omnipresent, looming over Diana, watching and judging every little move she made. And Bobby, simmering with pain and anger at the state of his health. It made her itchy. It made her reconsider Caleb's offer to let her stay with him and Grace.

So here she was, an excuse to get away from the Goodwin parents, killing time in the thrift store without any real goal for the afternoon. She idly flipped through the racks, barely paying attention to the sizes of clothing, more out of a desire for something to do than to actually find anything to purchase. She would pick up a hanger, put it back on the rack, and continue on, all the while mulling over her father's condition and the choices she and Grace would have to make moving forward. She barely even heard a voice speak out, and only looked up when she heard her name. Diana missed the rest of the sentence, as she looked over at the person who greeted her and remembered quite clearly who Thea Hammond was and how their history unfolded. Her eyes narrowed and wondered at the sincerity of her words.

"Looking for some vintage Gucci to upsell on Depop, obviously," she said, deadpan. "Everyone knows the best shit is in Ann Arbor. I mean, isn't that what you're doing?" she asked, eyebrow raised, prompting Thea to provide her own explanation for her presence.

[thea-hammond]

@diana-goodwin Finders Keepers Thrift

Thea had always enjoyed a thorough, well-refined plan, even on her days off. The weekends needed to be maximized, in her opinion - and she had plenty she knew she needed to do. Abel moving out had afforded her more freedom over the house, and the opportunity to pay it a bit more attention to it - which had led her to the realization that it was woefully unfinished. She had been consulting Architectural Digests as her bible, dog earring spreads she found particularly inspirational for months; now, it was time to put her planning and brainstorming into action. She'd planned to pick Abel up when he rolled out of bed, which afforded her most of the morning to hit a couple of estate sales. Driving through town on her way to get him, though, she had an idea, and decided to pop into the thrift store. She knew she was picky - she preferred to call it particular - but she was not a snob when it came to quality furniture; she would source whatever she could from wherever she could, and sometimes, she had learned, thrifting was the way to go. As she got a cart - it never hurt to be prepared - she caught a familiar sight ten feet away, head ducked down in the men’s clothing, eyes narrowed as though she was hunting large prey.

“Oh, holy shit,” Thea said plainly. This proved enough to apparently attract the girl’s - woman’s - attention, and Diana Goodwin’s head popped up, her eyes widening in shock, then softening into something a bit more miserable. This made sense, even now — Huron Academy was a small school, and the two of them had always been somewhat adversarial, spending most of their later high school years nipping at one anothers heels. Strangely, Thea couldn’t remember who the antagonist was in their story - her, or Diana. As an adult, from this far away, she only knew one thing: while she had won valedictorian, nobody knew what the hell happened to Diana after graduation, and that had seemed like the ultimate win in Thea’s opinion. She blinked, only then ascertaining that she might have been an interruption. “Diana. Sorry. Hi.” A beat, then, as the pair sized one another up. Thea would have worn something nicer had she known she ran this risk. Curiosity overtook her after a few seconds, and she suddenly blurted, “What are you even doing here?”

[abel-best]

"You know what —" Abel took in a deep breath. He was an adult, he needed to calm down. There was a part of Abel that couldn't relinquish anything from the past. While he would never admit it, so much of what he saved were the stupid things along the way his mother had bequeathed to him, and in the absence of her, all he had was the memory. So, sure. For a twenty-eight year old man, he had a disturbing amount of tchotchkes. "Who says I didn't have a piece on me?!" Abel looked at his best friend incredulously. "The difference is, I live and die by the hunt. You, probably, like, have grown your hymen back by now. And I know, it's a social construct, blah, blah, blah, but it's alarming to me, I am medically scared for you and your lack of hitting it!"

[thea-hammond]

"I know," Thea said firmly, softly - she didn't understand, and she never would, because she'd never had the relationship with her mother that Abel had with Mrs. Best. She'd never known that kind of love - she couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose it. She nodded at him once, resolute, as if to say It's okay or I get it. Then, just as quickly, she boomeranged back to disgust. "Also, my lack of hitting it is not a Goddamn medical condition. It is because, unlike present company, I'm not willing to go trawling for hookups just because I'm, like, bored, or whatever. That's not - you're -- lock in," she blustered. "We're not focusing on how long it's been. We're focusing on the future. And, in the near future, I will need you to take some new pictures of me."

[abel-best]

"Okay, that is because you tried to throw out my fucking baby blanket. The box was literally labeled 'Abel's precious memories' and you thought that was a good box to start purging. You're literally a criminal for that." Abel wagged a scolding finger in her face before turning his attention back to his french fries momentarily. "Baggy is fine. Whatever the hell your sweater is doing is something far more sinister." Eyebrows raised in intrigue at the mention of her getting back on dating apps sucked Abel right back in. "Oh, we can get this done for you. We can find you a real hot piece of ass. Maybe even with a heart of gold, too. But you have some more scruples on that front than I do, so."

[thea-hammond]

Thea rolled her eyes, clearly nonplussed by Abel's accusations. "I obviously didn't realize what I was doing, you dramatic bitch." This was only somewhat a lie - she'd opened the box out of curiosity, but found that most of its contents seemed weird for a grown man to have in his posession, and assumed that he'd be interested in chucking some of it; after the baby blanket fiasco, however, she was not permitted to suggest anything else be thrown away for the day. She smirked slightly at Abel's interest in her dating life, though she knew that it was only because he was horrendously nosy and judgemental - she'd never managed to bring someone home he approved of. "Sorry I don't want to get heinously murdered on my first date, if that's what you mean by scruples. You've gone places to get laid I wouldn't even go with a gun."

[abel-best]

"If you saw garbage, you could have, you know, thrown it out. What the hell do I even pay you for." Abel shook his head, swatting unsuccessfully at her fingers as they dived in for a fry. "Oh, yeah. Can't imagine why I wouldn't want to stay in your hoarder den of a guest room. Crazy of me!" Abel reached for a fry for himself, dipping it into some ketchup before plopping it into his mouth. "Well, almost completely, yeah. You're pretty reliable, actually. I have very limited complaints about you, over all." Abel flashed Thea with a devious smile. "But like, for the record, there is always room for improvement. You could start with the wardrobe. Maybe step your swag up a little. It's giving... Christian girl autumn at the moment."

[thea-hammond]

"You're so weird and sentimental about shit sometimes! I feel like we'd have very different definitions of what 'garbage' is when it comes to your stuff," Thea countered, somewhat defensively. She knew if she had gone rogue and trashed something meaningful, she'd never hear the end of it - better to just spend the day sorting through everything once he was settled in this place. "Very little complaints," she repeated in a mumble, rolling her eyes. "Sorry I fed and boarded you for months but my sweater is too baggy for you. Sorry." She took a generous sip of her milkshake, then, knowing he wasn't altogether wrong - she'd let herself get very corporate as a result of work, and her personal style had suffered for it. "I'll let you take me shopping, then. I'm thinking about hitting the apps again. I need to make sure it's all..." she gestured with an open palm in a circle in front of her, encompassing her body with the motion. "...looking right."

[xgodless]

Bliss Salon & Spa with Thea Hammond @thea-hammond

There'd be a time when she'd held Thea at arm's length, hoping distance would create enough of a screen that there'd be no real insight into her. Then there'd been the time when Ava had purposefully shut her out, not wanting to hear what she'd had to say and smarting from what she'd deemed a betrayal of trust and privacy. But now she saw it for what it was - an act of love and care. Their relationship was one that she valued dearly, seeing Thea as a Best rather than a Hammond. And all good relationships required nurturing so a nail appointment had been made for the two of them, her treat. She'd zoned out through some of the treatment, allowing the stress from the week to faded into the background. But realising she was almost done she peered over at Thea's hands, trying to see whatever design she'd opted for. "What did you go for?" Predictably she'd been plagued by indecision before option for a pretty, neutral pink with some gold accents. She was curious to see if Thea would have been any bolder. "I thought after this we could stop by The Remington for some brunch? I do have an in with the owner, after all." Smile was flashed at the other woman but there was no denying the hint of pride in her voice as she referenced her sister.

[thea-hammond]

A benefit to loving Abel was that Thea was able to love his sisters, as well - and she did, wholeheartedly. She considered them her own siblings in many ways, and that extended to her concern for them - particularly, as it were, for Ava. They'd spent some time together in New York, but that became sparing once Thea had made her concerns about Ava's well-being known, and, while she couldn't say she regretted saying something to Arden and Abel about how worried she was for their sister, she did feel the sting of embarrassment, remembering then, more acutely, that she was not in fact one of them. She was glad that she was back in Ava's good graces, that the pair of them could meet like this, but they'd never actually talked about any of what happened. For Thea, someone who naturally confronted conflict, this had been a lesson in patience. But it was not her place to push - she was just glad Ava seemed to be in a better place since they'd last seen each other in New York. "Oh, I'd love a salad the size of my head. I'm so down." Thea affirmed, nodding a few times enthusiastically. She then craned her head to look at Ava's nails, unsurprised by their subtle class; in response, she wriggled her own fingernails out from the LED lamp curing them and showed them off briefly when she knew the tech wouldn't chastise her - she had opted for a pale lavendar for her short, manicured nails, a stark difference from the bright red she'd opted for on her toes. "A little spring moment. They always end up chipping, though, anyway. I think I need to switch to powder next time, my nails have gone to shit."

[abel-best]

"Okay, so first of all, suck my ass." Abel invited to Thea before sucking down some of the shirley temple in front of him. "Second of all, we both know we can't be roommates after the incident." The incident in question? A sock on the door of an apartment Thea paid the entirety of rent for, while Abel had been visiting for forty-eight hours. "And anyway, you like, owe me." He nodded knowingly over at his best friend knowingly. Owed him? Likely not. But he was very good at pushing his luck. It had gotten him this far in life, after all. "And he wasn't getting sick of me, it just made dating, you know, painful? Awkward? He's not a good wing man. And if I had to wake up to him one more time choking on his own back wash in the bathroom I'd probably have to end it all. But, you know, also, thank you, or whatever."

[thea-hammond]

"Oh, go to Hell," Thea retorted, rolling her eyes. "I'm trying to be nice to you about all the garbage you've collected and half-filled those boxes with, you little shit." She reached for a french fry from his plate, plucking it with nimble fingers and popping it in her mouth. As she chewed, she thought about Abel's situation a bit more. "I just think it's kinda fucked up that you'd literally rather live with six strangers than just stay in my guest room," Thea said, mock-offended. She found she was only slightly actually bothered about it, but she didn't have time to dwell on how empty the house would be again right now. Still, she knew it wasn't really a guest room so much as it was a guest room-office-yoga studio-walk-in-closet. "Haven't I given you everything you could have ever wanted? Except for letting you buy bulk at Whole Foods."

[thea-hammond]

@abel-best Deedee's Diner

Taking a long, indulgent sip of her hard-earned milkshake, Thea sunk deeper into the recesses of the booth, its' squeaky plastic having long been worn down. She sighed. "Before we have to move you again when your lease is up, we're doing a keep/toss/donation day, because holy shit." She shook her head, giving her best friend a grave look. She wiggled her arms as if trying to break them loose from their aching. "Not trying to be..." she waved her hand dismissively, as if it emphasized her point without having to actually use the word. "...but you truly did not have to sublet. You could have just moved in with me for a little while if your dad was getting sick of you."