grantmiddleton (
grantmiddleton) wrote2014-04-18 08:09 pm
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Outside the Condo {OPEN}
Grant glanced up from his phone when he felt a shadow hang over him and found a giant, behemoth of a man who didn't speak much but grunted a lot at the other two movers. "Hmm? Oh, just put everything in the living room. I'll take care of it all later. Thanks."
He went back to his phone, typing rapidly as he replied to text after text from his mom. He grinned to himself. She was a worrier, always had been, always will be. And this was the first time her only child lived further than an hour away from her. So he was distracted when he heard a crash and looked up to see a hundred year old dresser on the ground.
"Hey! Careful! That dresser is worth ten times your pay today!" The movers all grunted, which Grant assumed was an apology. He swore under his breath, immediately tattling on the movers to his mom who was, unsurprisingly, pissed at the thought of any Middleton furniture being treated so carelessly. He shook his head. It was a shitty old dresser that belonged to his uncle and really not worth getting angry over. He hated the thing anyway - it was fifty shades of ugly. He hated most of the things coming out of the truck. But appearances are key, and if any of his family happened to come for a visit, they'd expect to see certain key pieces on proud display in his home. Even if the crap clashed horribly with his home.
He sighed and asked how much longer the move would take. When he got a "One more hour" out of the movers, he groaned. Moving sucked. Moving really sucked when you were slightly hung over and wanted a nap.
He went back to his phone, typing rapidly as he replied to text after text from his mom. He grinned to himself. She was a worrier, always had been, always will be. And this was the first time her only child lived further than an hour away from her. So he was distracted when he heard a crash and looked up to see a hundred year old dresser on the ground.
"Hey! Careful! That dresser is worth ten times your pay today!" The movers all grunted, which Grant assumed was an apology. He swore under his breath, immediately tattling on the movers to his mom who was, unsurprisingly, pissed at the thought of any Middleton furniture being treated so carelessly. He shook his head. It was a shitty old dresser that belonged to his uncle and really not worth getting angry over. He hated the thing anyway - it was fifty shades of ugly. He hated most of the things coming out of the truck. But appearances are key, and if any of his family happened to come for a visit, they'd expect to see certain key pieces on proud display in his home. Even if the crap clashed horribly with his home.
He sighed and asked how much longer the move would take. When he got a "One more hour" out of the movers, he groaned. Moving sucked. Moving really sucked when you were slightly hung over and wanted a nap.
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Following Grant back outside to the truck, he moved to pick up another item of furniture. “I totally get it, I barely had anything when I moved and it still felt like an effort unpacking it. Just wanna crawl into bed I bet.”
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"Exactly how I feel. I just wish I could open the door and have everything all placed and unpacked for me." He sighed dramatically. "But I'm an adult and all that now."
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“If only. About now I wish I’d got an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Just sort of zap everything into place, right?” Unaware of anything potentially uncomfortable about the statement, he rearranged his hold on the piece of furniture in his hands and started moving back towards the house.
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"If only things worked like Hogwarts, right?" He grinned, a little tense but still a grin. Be careful what you ask for. Grant picked up another piece and followed Alfie. "So you don't know any of the history about this place?"
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"Yeah, although hopefully without ghosts. I imagine they'd be kinda weird." Alfie didn't notice any change in Grant's attitude, too busy setting down the furniture he was carrying. "Not really, my boss told me there are a lot of historical myths around, but then he's the one telling guests to beware of bigfoot so..." Smiling, he gave a slight shrug.
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"Ah, one of those 'trying to out do each other' type things?" He asked, watching a pair of movers shuffling in the next room.
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"Oh yeah. Who can have the best charity event, who hires the more talented celloist, who has the nicer tableclothes. Sometimes the town wins, most of the time it doesn't." He shrugged, peeking inside a box because at this point he had no idea where anything was. "Lotta expectations around here."
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"Can say I have some experience with that. Not on a big scale, but my Mom and Mrs Jenkins back home were very competitive at the Church bake sales. The house would smell of cookies and brownies for a solid coupla days before and we weren't allowed any. Hard times."
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Grant laughed at that. "Moms, man. I don't know why they get so competitive, but if it means more baked goods for me, I'm happy."
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"If only we got them afterwards. It was who could sell the most, so we'd usually get a cookie or brownie if there were any left over. Two if we were very lucky. Funny the things parents do."
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