harvardiii

[harvardiii]

There were few H.A.H. members who Donny had ever felt were anything but shams. The charm they offered to townsfolk, the promises they made, the way they talked about their children… Donny had borne witness to it behind the scenes. He had seen the way David’s eyes were alight around Danny – for better or for worse; he had seen the cold indifference in the man’s eyes when he looked at Donny, himself. It was all a charade.  Perhaps they did bring in new business opportunities every now and again, but what was that worth in the long run? ( Asks the rich boy. ) Now, Harvard Hargrove III may have had many bones to pick with Danny – something mutual, all thanks to the sins of their fathers – but Donny was a clean slate. And he planned on keeping it that way. Hell, sometimes Harvey was more of the All-American big brother trope to him than Danny was… Sometimes Donny thought he was closer to Harvey than Danny. Sad, right? Sad, sad, sad. Sad, what success could do to a family. Sad, what success could do to a kid.  But that is all to say – Harvey’s appearance was like a brief moment spent in the sun. The big brother he never had, right? Ha. “Oh, I’m certain he rehearsed it in the mirror several times. Did you hear his cadence? He outdid himself!” Now that was another great thing about Harvey. They both knew their fathers were great pretenders. They didn’t have to pretend to respect them around each other!

“Oh, of course! He’ll be pulling out all the stops – probably pull Danny and me up there, shake our shoulders and talk about how proud he is of how the town has formed us so well… all that.”

˗ˏˋ ♛ ´ˎ˗

Harvey thanked the stars above that, at least, Donny Holly was a key example of the fact that kids could come out of the upper crust of Cherry without being totally screwed up. Studies should be done on the effects of the Holly household - how do two boys turn out so differently? It stroked the parts of Harvey’s brain that whirred late in the night, but for now he resolved to just dig into the moment and take a seat on the nearest surface for a while. A welcome escape from the constant assault of H.A.H. business, and bad memories that had been hitting him over the head since he walked in the door. “I’d bet money on it. I hear my Dad practicing for board meetings every once in a while - you’d love the drafts he goes through before he lands on some of the absolute bullshit he feeds to the rest of the puppets. If he hadn’t wasted his whole life on this shit, he really would have been a good writer.” 

A sip of eggnog - a sigh - why couldn’t this shit all just be some kind of normal? “What have you got going on tonight, Donny? Tell me you’ve got some kind of after-party on the books to wash the taste of all this out of your mouth tonight.” 

[harvardiii]

☼

Rory didn’t wander off with the expressed intent of being nosy or anything—it wasn’t like this was the first time she had ever been in the Holly Mansion—she just didn’t want to be in the stifling party room any more. Her feet carried her down the hall, one hand tracing the pattern on the wallpaper, the other curled around a glass. She glanced into the first room she came across, the den, her mind helpfully supplied, and smiled at what she found. One Harvey Hargrove the third. For a moment the dim lighting painted his profile the same way that the glow of the refrigerator did. Stumbling upon Harvey when they were both supposed to be in other places was practically habit by now, enough that she didn’t hesitate in joining him. 

“Punk?!” She laughed and bumped his shoulder with hers in retaliation. “It’s not too bad. Even though my merry band of younger brothers abandoned me. I like the piano player this year.” Her fingers moved across the surface of the desk before them, mimicking the pianist’s skillful movements. Once upon a time she’d wanted to learn, but they never had the money for lessons, let alone for a piano. And then, once she moved to Cherry… There was no way she was going to tell Rocky that and put even more strain on her uncle’s budget. “What about you? Has it been all H.A.H. torture, or did you manage to have a little fun?”

˗ˏˋ ♛ ´ˎ˗

Fun? Harvey had to think about his answer for a moment. Of course he had managed to have fun, if only for a moment, because pulling Mackenzie Walsh into a secret little corner was always fun. It was the only part of the night Harvey thought might be truly memorable, but it isn’t like he could explain the small flash of a smile that crossed over his expression with much ease. What was he supposed to do? Spill all? Make the great myth that was he and Mac truth by spinning it into words? No way, no how. 

So Harvey just smiled his little smile, and he laughed a pretty little laugh. It was the best he could do in hiding from the only person he refused to really hide from. “I managed to have some fun. I mean, what’s not fun about spiking eggnog, and waving farewell to another year, right?” Harvey winked. What’s not fun about rendezvous, and keeping secrets from your parents? 

“So, Rory Jackson - what’s your plan for the night? Because I’m not gonna watch you linger around a party, and waste your time listening to a half-rate pianist for long.” Harvey paused to take a sip off of liquor-splashed mug of eggnog, “So, I wanna hear three things: one, your Big Goal for the night. Two, your New Year’s Resolution, and... Three?”  He had to think for a second. “I wanna hear you say you’re going to make this night as memorable as you can. Christmas ‘85 - best year ever.”

[harvardiii]

elainexarcher​:

closed starter for @harvardiii​

Over the years, there had been too many memories made at the Holly Holiday Party to count… but of course, there was one that always stuck out. If she closed her eyes it was almost like she was there. She was twelve and clad in tufts of sparkly white with a shimmering snowflake crown on her head. It was the year she’d won the winter pageant, and Evelyn had insisted she dressed the part- sash and all. These days she would have flaunted it, basked in the attention that came along, but back then all she’d wanted to do was hide. She was shivering in the backyard, avoiding Danny’s teasing and the mothers’ prodding and Harvey. She felt ridiculous and feared his rejection, as if the Harvey she’d always known would turn on her that easily.

And then he’d all but materialized at her side, covering her shoulders with his jacket and placing a steaming mug of hot chocolate in her freezing hands. The words exchanged are a mystery to her now, but she remembers the feeling, the way she’d finally relaxed by his side and the warmth that spread through her when they finally shared that first kiss. It was written all over her features for the rest of the night, the red glow on her cheeks lasting far too long to be from the cold. 

Harvey comes into view as she opens her eyes and she’s still in the backyard and she’s still shivering, but the warmth he’d once brought is nowhere to be found. If anything, the temperature feels ten degrees colder. 

“Having fun?” 

˗ˏˋ ♛ ´ˎ˗

Harvey hated the parallels that kept becoming apparent to him as he sauntered around the Holly Jolly Holiday Party, but apparently, there was no escape from the snowglobe flashes of a holly-jollier time that were haunting him. Every corner spelled out memories that he’d rather forget. Every place reminded him of his Mom, or Casey, or Elaine, or even a time when his and Danny’s rivalry meant ‘boys being boys’ and not something that felt more like ‘fight to the death.’  

The backyard seemed like the most damning place - snowflake memories kiss his face like he kissed Elaine, and he shivers like she did that night - but he knew he needed the air. Spiked eggnog was buzzing through his veins, his head was spinning under the weight of Pawn-Hood that came with being an heir... But he suddenly felt a little like he was suffocating under the Globe-Sized weight that was dropped on top of him at the sight of Elaine.

“Are you?” Spilled out before Harvey could stop himself. He shrugged his shoulders in her direction - a genuine answer. “Because to me it seems just like a whole lot of same shit, different year.”  Except at the end of this night, you’ll go home with Zev, and I’ll stumble home to Mackenzie Walsh, of all people, and we’ll apparently never think of each other again. 

Did Harvey even care? Did it matter? If he wasn’t straight, and he never was, did it have to hurt this bad? He didn’t know, but it didn’t seem to matter either. He was hurt, that was fact. He was betrayed, that was fact. He still loved Elaine, even if it was complicated, and broken, and something that never looked like being with her, ever again. He was okay with some of that. 

“My Dad started bothering me about that bogus company picture, so...” He shrugged. Harvey had come out her as an escape, not in good faith comradery. “Probably got a few minutes until someone comes looking for us. Make your escape now if you’re planning on making it.” 

[harvardiii]

God he wished he’d had a count down. Some kind of warning that let him know when this part of the night was going to happen. He knew it was inevitable but he’d secretly been dreading the when. As if Harvey’s ginormous 6′5 ass walking towards him wasn’t warning enough. It meant pulling together his A game as soon as possible. A conversation with Harvey was like going to war. It always had been and he was certain by now that it always would be. Like going to war with a self proclaimed god. A fellow Atlas carrying the weight of the H.A.H on his back and yet never could they seem to quite see eye too eye. 

“Hargrove.” He said simply in response. His eyes never wavering as they met the other mans gaze. Even as the wine bottle was handed over, the eye contact remained. His hands taking the bottle, only bothering to glance down at it with judgement written all over his face. “I don’t know I’m not quite use to handling something so cheap. I didn’t realize the Hargroves had, had such a difficult year. You should have let my family know. We love doing Charity around the holidays.” He teased, offering the other boy a grin that to any on looker would make it seem like he was being perfectly civil. 

“So insistent that I plan on bludgeoning you with a bottle of wine. Where’s your Christmas spirit Hargrove? It’s a party. No place for that. Besides not like I’ve needed a bottle to do that before.” 

˗ˏˋ ♛ ´ˎ˗

Harvey had been expecting a kick about the wine, he knew that Danny Holly wasn’t going to be able to resist the first blow he could manage, but who could? He just let it all roll off of his back with a genuine laugh; eyebrow raised in his opponent’s direction. “If you’re basing my family’s financial earnings over my cleaning out the absolute fucking horde in my Dad’s wine cellar, then might I direct you to Internal Revenue Code, Subtitle B, Chapter 12, Section 2503 labelled, ‘Gift Tax,’  and know that one less bottle of shitty bottle of wine regifted to a wastoid like you might actually be a real nice, ‘Merry Christmas,’ to the accountant this year.” Harvey winked. Point Hargrove? He’d count it as one. 

“My Christmas spirit left the building the minute I crossed the Holly threshold, but thanks for asking. And you might not need a bottle to make a hit - hey, maybe you’re not even going to throw the first punch - but we both know this whole... Second act thing? Isn’t gonna last for you, Holly. Once a renegade, always a renegade. I’m just wondering when we should all start placing our bets on the break down. Only a matter of time until this starts cracking, right?” 

[harvardiii]

🎸

Mackenzie loved the holidays. Well, he loved his and Leo’s version of them anyway. The Holly’s Party wasn’t piled high on the list of things he looked forward to during the holiday season, but it always seemed to make Leo happy. After all, his uncle remembered a time when the Walshes weren’t social pariahs- when they were invited to events like this one more than once a year. He remembers the mix of nerves and delight on his uncle the first time they’d been invited, and the spring in his step every year since. So Mac comes to make him happy, even if his Rudolph tie sort of feels like it’s choking him. 

He’s had his fair share of spiked egg nog and he’s buzzing from the inside, enjoying the feeling and the decorations. And then Harvey appears, like an angel or something, illuminated by the twinkle and glow of the Christmas lights behind him. It’s enough to make Mac’s fingers ache from not being able to reach out, though the feeling is becoming more familiar the longer they continue this thing. 

“Yeah, sure,” his smile is as warm as he feels as they make their way outside, and it’s not until they stop that he spots the present in Harvey’s hand, “You know they have a table for those right? You don’t have to carry it around all night. Who’d you get anyway?” 

˗ˏˋ ♛ ´ˎ˗

Harvey can kinda see the shift on Mac’s face when he sees him, and it’s like watching someone else watch fireworks. Does Harvey deserve the sparkling flicker of light that crosses through Mac’s irises? Does he deserve to know when, exactly, to look and see the older boy’s fingers twitch, like he might take the chance of reaching out toward Harvey? Maybe not. Maybe they shouldn’t be Harvey’s moments to steal. But for the time being, the Golden Boy has decided that he’s going to be the type of guy who lives in the moment instead of worrying about when things were going to fall apart... The type of person who found himself chasing things that weren’t his to chase. Like Mac Walsh. Like a future that might not involve a woman, and 2.5 kids, and his father --

Whew. There he went not living in the moment again. Stop that. 

It took Mac’s, ‘who’d you get, anyway?’ to command Harvey back to attention, and his grin was so wide at the question that it felt like it might split in the chill of the winter night. “Telling you who I got kinda defeats the whole purpose of the ‘Secret’ part, right?” Harvey’s raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t leave Mac much time to contemplate the question. 

“Besides,” He cleared the cowardice from his throat, “Doesn’t matter who I got in the game. This one’s for you - just figured you probably shouldn’t open it in front of the Gang.”  Harvey shrugged the nerves off of his shoulders as he passed the gift along - small enough to fit in his back pocket, but carrying the weight of the world along with it. It was just some stupid little picture book... The few pieces of evidence that they - if they could really be considered a ‘they’ - ever existed at all, wrapped up with  bow for Mac’s perusing.  And what did it all mean? Harvey might say, but he was living the moment. 

“I, uh... Merry Christmas, Walsh.” 

[harvardiii]

@roryjackson​

They’d barely even gotten a fraction of the way through the night before Harvey felt his capacity for bullshit begin to tip over the edge of tolerable. With his and Mac’s stolen moment already tucked away into his back pocket, and his BAC teetering on the verge of ‘too much,’ he knew the gift exchange was all he was holding out for at that point. Harvard II didn’t care how early his son left the soiree, didn’t care what he did afterward, as long as there was some snapshot of Harvey around the tree with the other junior members of the H.A.H board to send out in their Holiday Newsletter... And God knew Harvey would probably rather do anything than smile in a picture next to Elaine and Danny of all people, but as long as it marked an exit point he’d look forward to it.

He’d been loitering around the Den for a while now; wasting time running his fingers over ribbon and wrapping paper, and nodding his head along to ‘Deck the Halls,’ and ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,’ with alcohol teetering joints.  It wasn’t until he heard a small cough - ehhem - behind him that he found his bubble broken. 

At least it was Rory. A breath of fresh air in the lungs compared to the hot, humid haze of Holly, Hargrove, and Archer that he’d been breathing all night. “What’s up, punk?” Harvey’s smile was small - just for her - but it was warm. “Kinda surprised you don’t have a Holly, a Russell, and a King glued to your side tonight. You having fun yet?” 

[harvardiii]

@donnyholly​

Harvey had been to the Holly house countless times over the course of his lifetime, but something about it never really got any easier. There was this itch beneath his skin, and a tingle in his nerves: he always had to be on guard, just in case Danny - or god forbid, Harvard II - was lurking around the corner. At the very least, he knew that he could count on moments with Donny Holly to be less intense. He knew that the kid’s eyes - less than a year younger, but still wholly kid in Harvey’s mind - was always looking out too. He could trust that kind of weariness. 

“You having a good night so far?” Harvey came prepared: his own spiked eggnog, and a glass for Donny too. He wasn’t sure if the youngest Holly was spending the night drinking like the rest of them - why somone wouldn’t, Harvey isnt sure. But it never hurt to offer, right?  “I gotta tell you - your Dad’s speech, really kicked it out of the park this year. I’m shocked there wasn’t, like, a sparkly little tear streaming down his cheek by the end. Would have been Oscar worthy.”

“Guess that just means we have something to look forward to for next year though, right?” 

[harvardiii]

@damndannyholly​

Being forced into social situations with Danny Holly < Fighting hell demons, pulling teeth, having awkward conversations with his Dad, etc. 

It was an inevitable truth of his life, and it had been since he was in diapers. ‘The Holly’s are like family.’ ‘The Holly’s are our people.’ Blah, blah, blah. Harvard II could put it any way that he liked, but there was no string of words in the English language that was going to mend the rift that had been born between Harvey and Danny. They were like natural born enemies: fire and ice, and all of the bad shit that came betwixt the chaos. Still, being natural born enemies didn’t excuse you from the social calling of being the Warring Prince’s of Cherry Proper. 

“Sup, Holly?” You always greet the host. “Brought this for your mom,” You always bring a gift - in Harvey’s case, the cheapest bottle of wine from his Dad’s cellar. He knew it wasn’t going to end up in Helena’s hands anyway. “Think you can handle passing that along, or should I be worried you’re going to try and turn it against me first?” Cherry Proper customs didn’t usually involve insulting the hosts... But then again, Harvey had never exactly been traditional. 

“I just don’t think my reputation could handle another blow from Prince Holly.” 

[harvardiii]

@macwalsh​

Harvey Hates Holidays! That’s the long and short of it: they’re simple facts and figures. Harvey Hates Holidays. 

It wasn’t always like that: he could remember a time when Christmas being right around the corner was the most exciting thing he could wrap his head around. He’d wake up early to get to Elaine’s for presents. He’d spend the morning mingling with a family that wasn’t his own, and then hurry his way back home to spend time with his own Mom and Dad. He was seven years old the first time he got to scurry down the street to the Archer’s - he was seventeen the last time he did it. Somewhere in between though, after his Mom died, and his Dad got remarried... Harvey sort of just started to resent it all. Where was the holly jolly? Where was the room to be merry when he was so god damn miserable?  Now though, as he was wandering around the familiar Holly halls with a cup of spiked (don’t tell the parents!) eggnog in one hand, and a poorly wrapped, measly little excuse for a gift in the other, he had the strange, nagging little feeling in the back of his head: what if this Christmas was different? “You busy?” It was easy enough to find Mac, with his back hugged against a wall. The room was fairly quiet considering the party, but his words were still soft enough that Harvey thought he might have to repeat them.  “Thought we could hang outside for a sec, or something.” Harvey shrugged, a smile creeping over his lips - though he didn’t dare pull Mac’s gaze any further than his peripherals.

 “Get some air?” 

[harvardiii]

HARVARD HARRISON HARGROVE III.

      mutiny tag: number03.

NICKNAMES: harvey, harv, AGE: 19 GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him JOB: college student / junior board member at HAH / trust fund baby FOOTBALL JERSEY: #03.

PERSONALITY:

+TRAITS: strong, affectionate, charming, responsible, protective -TRAITS: insecure, jealous, guarded, occasionally obnoxious, picky FEARS:  being left, losing people he loves, being alone, losing his father, loving people  PUBLIC HOBBIES: football, partying, basketball, dating, surfing, playing pool PRIVATE HOBBIES: reading novels, photography, working on the fleet of classic cars in the Hargrove Mansions’ Garage, video games, running errands for his step-mom, swimming in the ocean at sunrise HABITS: trying to hide how he’s feeling, revving engines so everyone sees him when he pulls into the parking lot,  zoning out when he’s upset, rolling his eyes, starting fights at parties when he’s wasted, crying when Elaine Archer is around, lying to his dad, regretting small talk

BIOGRAPHY:

TW: UNNAMED ILLNESS LEADING TO DEATH

When Harvey is totally losing it, he likes to think of the last few good memories he has with his Mom -- like before she was diagnosed, and everything got worse. He thinks about how they used to dance around the kitchen together, listening to the Beach Boys and singing along to old pop songs from the 60s. He thinks about her auburn hair in the glow of the fireplace’s crackling flame, and how they would sit in the living room together, Harvey’s cheek resting comfortably against her lap.

When he’s angry, and trying not to use his fists - when he’s trying not to be someone she would be disappointed to have brought into the world - he  thinks about the way that she told him he was special, and that she would love him forever. He thinks about her hand encompassing his, and it’s the warmest glow in his chest... Until he remembers the day that she died, and, just like that, he’s a goner under the weight of his own emotions.

Harvey Hargrove hadn’t expected such a huge loss of love to define the rest of his life - what kind of 12 year old does? But as the years passed by, and as his mother became nothing more than a speck in the distance of his childhood, he began to realize that more than one of his problems could be rooted back to the Painful Departure of Delia Hargrove.

Before she was gone, for instance, he was a happy kid. He would spend his days reading in the park. He would find himself lost on real-world adventures with a young Casey Russell - his twin terror - and he would hang by Elaine’s side like a conjoined twin. He would ride his bike just about everywhere, and smile a sweet-cheeked, rosy little grin at the Witches who would call him, “Little Prince!” as he rode past. Harvey Hargrove the Third was full of charm, and promise, and excitement for the world.

Some of that still hung behind once she was gone. He still rode his bike, and though he and Casey seemed to start developing a competitive streak, they were still inseparable. His hand was still permanently clasped in Elaine’s or Libby’s, and he still buried his nose in a book on late nights when his nannies were avoiding him, and Harvard was working late.

It was easy to see how vastly the light behind Harvey’s eyes had dimmed, though, when he stopped smiling so much: it was easy to see the way he cringed when the name ‘Little Prince!’ was shouted at him from across the streets.

He wasn’t sure why it felt more like an insult after his Mom was gone, but looking back on it? Harvey just thinks it felt like a reminder that the life he knew at home was anything but a fantasy. He wasn’t a prince, and Hargrove Mansion wasn’t a kingdom. It was more like a prison.

Harvard Hargrove II hadn’t ever truly been warm, but the true frost came fluttering through the windows of Hargrove Mansion the day his wife dropped out of their lives. There had always been certain expectations set out for Harvey - he had always been expected to be the next face of H.A.H. - but without his mother there to protect him from the harsh reality of being a Fully Fledged Hargrove, Harvard took the reins on his son’s life.

Throughout middle school, he was expected to sign up for every sport that Cherry possibly had to offer. Football, Basketball, Baseball, Swimming - you name it, and Harvard Hargrove III was sure to be on the roster. There was no time for the kind of hobbies that Harvey longed to cultivate - no time for taking photo, and no time to wax poetic on the old records that his mom left him… There was only time to become the man that his father expected him to be. Strong, Respectable, and the shining example of their Picturesque Nuclear Family. You know. Minus the Mom.

He thought things would change when Jillian and Zev moved in - and he was right, they did - but his father’s control in his life never really seemed to ease up. Harvard II tried for Jillian, at least. 

It was really no surprise that Harvey grew up a little shivery. No surprise that he built himself a bit of reputation as ‘A fucking Asshole’ with the people who refused to see past his Born Title as the ‘Prince of Cherry Proper.’

There were a few people who managed to melt his exterior over the years - a few people who got to see just how caring, and gentle he could be… High School really fucked that for Harvey, though. It got really hard to let people in.

Nobody really knows what Harvey’s hopes and dreams look like - they’ve never really known. They’d probably assume he had, like, real dreams of becoming an NFL legend, but… If he’d overheard any conversation he had with his High School Sweetheart, Elaine Archer, it might be easy to tell that his goals laid a little closer to his heart.

Money had never really been an issue for someone like Harvey - he had never really cared about becoming the next President of HAH investments, or finding fame and fortune. Nah, he just wanted someone to stand by his side, that would call him their own: he wanted a few kids that he could treat better than his Dad treated him. He just wanted to take pictures with his mother’s camera, and to feel like he belonged someplace important.

He was a Hargrove, though, so his dreams were kind of dead on arrival. He was going to keep playing football, and being Cherry’s ‘Golden Boy’ until his Dad told him he could stop; he was going to marry some beautiful girl that Harvard II approved of, and take his rightful spot on the board of HAH. He was going to be whatever his Dad wanted him to be, even if it resulted in a tortured, frost-bitten, never-see-the-sun version of his Only Child. Harvey is the token popular kid. He’s sweet in the shadows, and a Personality in the light of day... Sometimes he doesn’t even notice he’s switching over. But for his friends? For the guy he thinks he might be falling for? He’s going to try to start to fix it. 

OTHER THINGS ABOUT HARVEY:

READING NOVELS:

Harvey loves novels like  a Wrinkle in Time, the Neverending Story, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Lord of the Rings, and the Princess Bride -  those were the kinds of things you could find in his book bag all the way up to Freshman year! But once his mind started to feel a little darker, he began to branch out into the more melancholy side of the literature world. Harvey’s bookshelf at home is filled, now, with Stephen King Novels, Kurt Vonnegut, George Orwell, and the list of totally obvious depressed-boy authors goes on…  Though, he definitely still keeps well used copies of the Lord of the Rings novels in his night stand. In fact, he’d never tell anyone, but his personal collection of Lord of the Rings memorabilia fills the hidden crevices of his bedroom.

He spends a ton of time in the CCU library, and he has since he was a kid - in fact, if you’re looking for the guy? There’s probably a good chance he’s tucked somewhere in the back, not that enough people really pay attention to him to know that. Sometimes he’s studying, but more often than not he’s thumbing through some novel he found in the stacks.

PHOTOGRAPHY:

Harvey’s mother died when he was 12, but he feels lucky at least that he has no shortage of pictures from their time on Earth together. Delia Hargrove loved photography: she always said it was the third love of her life, and when she died, it became the love of Harvey’s too. He inherited her old camera, and begin taking pictures of nearly everything he could point at with it’s lens. He’s got an entire stack of self portraits; he’s got pictures of his friends, and his family, and places he loves - everything. It’s everything to him.  Nobody really knows it’s a hobby that he takes seriously... They’d probably laugh if Harvey told them that he wished that photography was his major instead of business. But somewhere, deep down, Harvey wishes that he could just take pictures for the rest of his life. It’s all he’s ever really wanted. 

WORKING ON THE FLEET OF CLASSIC CARS IN THE HARGROVE MANSION GARAGE:

So, like, reading and photography - listening to his Mom’s records and dancing around his room? Those were always hobbies that made his Dad sort of cringe, and what is a kid to do that desperately needs approval from his father? Find a “manly” hobby that Harvard II can actually stand… Enter the garage at Hargrove Mansion.

His house has always been huge - more of an estate, really, even if that basement was bleak - but the garage was half the size of the main house, and part of the main source of his father’s pride. Plymouths, Fords, Cadillacs, BMWs, Aston Martin, Porsche, Lamborghini, etc - if it was made before 1960, and in any class of luxury, you could bet your ass that Harvard Hargrove II owned, or had owned it, at some point in the past.

Harvey remembers the first time his father let him hold the flashlight while he worked on the engine of a 1947 Plymouth with suicide doors. He held nuts and bolts in his hands, and it took half an hour to wash the grease from his hands afterward… but he kind of liked the way that it felt on his fingertips. He sort of craved to be the one with his hands in the engine; actually fixing something that had the potential to run just as beautifully as it did back when it was brand new off of the factory line.

Harvard II was impressed when Harvey showed back up in the garage day after day, and Harvey pored over the many car manuals he could buy at the auto shop just outside of town. Soon enough, he was better at getting an engine to run than Harvard Hargrove II was, and Harvey swelled with the only amount of pride he could when his father actually told him how pleased he was.

Harvey can be caught driving a different car, like, multiple times a week - it depends on which one he’s working on, on any given day - but he has his favorites.

Working on engines not only helps him prove his masculinity to his father - which he kind of hates about his favorite hobby - but Harvey hates the idea of taking his car to someone else to fix. He gets enough “spoiled rich kid” shit thrown his way… Breaking down on the side of the road or something, with no way to help himself? Not being able to change his own oil?  It’s a non-option.

SWIMMING IN THE OCEAN AT SUNRISE:

Harvard Hargrove II has always pushed Harvey into sports, and though he enjoys the thrill of the game, really, swimming was probably the only one that ever brought Harvey any peace… Which is why he refused to turn it into one of the many competitive sports he plays.

Since Harvey was 14 he has been waking up extra early a couple mornings a week to run down to the Orchard Shore Beach and take a swim before the sun rises over the ocean. The girls who lifeguard at the beach have caught onto the routine - sometimes they’re already working out on the beach by the time he gets there... but it’s not enough to give it up. He kinda likes the attention. 

RUNNING ERRANDS FOR HIS JILLIAN:

Harvey misses his mom basically, like, every day, even if it doesn’t always manifest itself in the most obvious ways… Jillian fills some part of the void, though.

Zev and Harvey don’t exactly get along, obviously, but in the absence of being a good step-brother, Harvey has always tried to go the extra mile to be a good step-son. He used to stop by to make sure she had lunch everyday.  He would pick up clothing bundles from her supplies, or stay up late organizing inventory when she was stilling running her business… He craved her approval, even if there would always be the wall between them with Zev’s face  graffitied all over it.

HARVARD HARGOVE II:

Harvey and his father have always had a strange relationship with each other. When Delia Hargrove was still alive, things were like... actually semi-normal. Of course, Harvey has been sitting in on H.A.H meetings since he was six years old; formed and molded into the idea of what the perfect Hargrove CEO should look like. But before his mother was gone, they would take vacations, and spend holidays togethers; tradition was rife, and so were the days that the two would throw a football across the lawn or watch a movie together.  When Delia passed away, their relationship became distant and cold. It was like Harvard II didn’t know how to be a father without his wife at his side. Instead he became Harvey’s coach, and his leader; he wasn’t a man that Harvey could share his feelings with, instead he was the man that made Harvey feel like he was never going to be good enough. 

Harvey isn’t sure he’ll ever be a great football player, or a great businessman. He isn’t sure he’s ever going to be able to play the role of a Husband to a wife, and the father to her children... It was all he wanted when he had Elaine. She was probably the only person he could have pretended with his whole life: he didn’t even know it was pretending back then.  Now he’s sure he’s got a choice: himself, or his father. 

DELIA HARGROVE:

Harvey doesn’t think he’ll ever really know what it’s like to be loved again: not since elaine left him, and his mother died. He was only nine years old when she was diagnosed - a life ruining moment and a half. He was twelve when she finally passed away, frail and broken in a hospital bed at Cherry Memorial. 

She left wounds on Harvey’s heart that he doesn’t know what to do with, and it’s made him lonelier than anything. Left with only a broken father, he’s always struggled with believing people care about him; and deep within his heart, there’s a fear of being abandoned that rages on...  but it’s also just made him crave a future with someone. He wants a family of his own - he wants to feel whole enough to be able to spend his life with someone.He’s just scared he’ll never be able to be that person until he can figure out how to fill the hole that his mother left behind.

Harvard Hargrove II is the person who took Delia’s death the hardest, even with Harvey to consider... and when he’s drunk past the point of no return? He blames it on his son, and Harvey believes him. What else is he supposed to do?

HARVEY’S ANGER ISSUES:

Harvey has always had sort of a wild streak - a part of him that just  set off with no regard for control - whether it comes to partying, or jumping off of shit he shouldn’t... getting angry when he should probably just take a breath? It’s always been a part of him, and though it’s a part he’s tried to fight, it really took on a life of it’s own when Harvey went to middle school and became all but addicted to the rush of popularity and attention - however negative it may be.  He likes to throw parties. He likes to get angry on the field, and fight it all out... He likes to get drunk, and do stupid shit sometimes. It’s something his father absolutely hates about him - what kind of CEO is acting like a token frat boy? But it’s just about the only form of control Harvey has over his life anymore. 

HARVEY’S SEXUALITY:

Harvey has basically always refused to acknowledge just how intense he feels over some of the males in his life - it’s an avenue he couldn’t find himself even thinking about turning down. Recently, though, it seems like it’s all hitting Harvey in the chest with unrelenting force. He had always chalked it up to jealousy, the way that he’d look at guys in the locker room and feel himself, like… melting? Right in the chest? He’d always told himself he paid so much attention because he wanted to be like them, but… Whatever. Lately, he’s just been rethinking things. He’s been finding himself attracted to people he shouldn’t be: AKA, Mackenzie Walsh.  He’s doing everything he can to hide, but recently he thinks there must be some way he’s slipped up, because his father has become unrelenting about Harvey finding a nice girl to date.