uncomfortably numb | frankie

[gehry benjamin ollivander]

Disconnected, out of mind

I’m unaffected by the times

May 1, 2027
Galen Francis Ollivander

Benny yawned as he wandered out of his room. He could see the sun was high up through the window, and the immediate growl that arose from his stomach told him it was about noon. A look of displeasure came across his face. He’d missed breakfast. Again. Benny loved breakfast and wondered if there was anything leftover, even just a single pancake would suffice. Barefoot he wandered down the hall and down the steps to the kitchen but aside from his bare feet on the floors, he didn’t hear anyone.

However, as he entered the dining room, he jumped a little a the silent figure present. ”Merlin, you scared me.” A moment ago, he felt a little groggy, but now he was wide awake. Though his current state could not be blamed on sudden fright. An old wrinkled t-shirt, pajama pants, and his disheveled hair a little flat on one side. ”Where is everyone?” Benny asked his brother. Out of everyone, Benny had adjusted to Frankie’s presence rather quickly. But he wasn’t the type to ever let anything bother him for long.

Without waiting for an answer, he frowned again as he entered the kitchen and saw it was immaculate. No leftovers in sight. A light but dramatic sigh escaped him. And he realized he had also left his wand upstairs, so Benny couldn’t summon all the pieces he needed for a bowl of cereal. So he looked through the middle three cabinets, forgetting which one exactly stored the dishes and which cabinet stored the silverware. At least he knew where the milk was—the fridge. There was a chance Frankie would relocate somewhere in the house now that Benny was awake, or maybe he had work. It was Benny’s day off, but he hadn’t planned what to do with it yet.

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[Galen Francis Ollivander]

nothing.

FRANKIE'S MAIL WAS STILL DELIVERED TO THE Ollivander household the old fashioned way. By way of a merry little fella in red, walking on foot with a bag across his bag. He didn't do owl mail, but when it had the audacity to find him he was never too pleased. He preferred to read about his debt the muggle sort of way. Alas, it meant on paper he still lived at home, though he avoided it as much as possible.

He had stumbled in to the family abode just as his mother was leaving for a meeting at the local community centre, the sun wicked behind stinging dry eyes. Plans she told him about in passing, and was rewarded with a grunt from Frankie in reply. There was a neat pile of mail with his name, carefully stacked behind the brass statue of a willow tree on a console table by the door. He snatched it clumsily, the statue wobbling as his mother squeaked in fear of its fate. He made a dramatic show of straightening it without looking back, waiting for the door to quietly snick shut and the silence to invade the house once more. His parents never stuck around him nowadays, unable to talk to a mental squib any more than they could a room full of muggles.

The mail was left untouched on the breakfast bar, Frankie's head tilted back on a wobbling chair as he nodded off. His second cup of black coffee clutched like a lifeline to his stomach. He was still wearing the clothes from the night before, a bruise forming somewhere under his jaw where he'd gotten into a scuffle outside a pub. His bones ached, his head snapped, and he did not feel like pleasant company. It made the presence of his cheery little brother all the more grating as he was jarred awake by the skid of feet on the tiles.

Frankie snapped upright, his hot coffee sloshing over the side of his cup and making him curse. "Fuckin'..." He gritted his teeth, the cup slamming down on the table as he shook the sting from his scalded fingers. Afterwards, he cast a dry look at Gehry's rumpled figure. He looked incredibly young in his wrinkled pyjama's, wide eyed as if Frankie was a ghost haunting his precious kitchen.

"Well, if ain't the prodigal son..." He drawled, shoving his red fingers into his mouth and sucking angrily. It was unfair, he knew that, but the hangover made him a little snappier than usual. Once the sting had receded, he removed his fingers from his mouth and picked up his cup for a sobering slug. It would have tasted better with a tipple of brandy, he thought. "I dunno, mate." He sighed, knowing that he was sort of lying as he cradled the mug and settled back into his chair. "They don't have me manning the door yet."

From his position in the corner of the large kitchen, Frankie watched the boy rummage around the cupboards helplessly. Frowning over the rim of his mug as he took another bitter sip. "Do you even live here?" He commented sarcastically. "You sure don't look like you do..." He rolled his aching neck on his shoulders, blowing out a long and tired breath. "There's coffee left in the carafe." He added mercifully. "Made it all by my self." 

gehry benjamin ollivander

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[gehry benjamin ollivander]

Disconnected, out of mind

I’m unaffected by the times

May 1, 2027
Galen Francis Ollivander

There wasn’t much that fazed Benny, but his brother’s words landed like a bite, but the teeth weren’t particularly sharp. It still was enough to cause discomfort. The man wrestled with his coffee mug, and Benny continued his search for sustenance. Had he been more like his sisters, perhaps he’d have some witty retort or sharp thing to say as a response. But, as everybody said, he was not like Veronica or Nell. And Benny was okay with that, but the other man in the room might as well be a stranger.

But he was grateful his mother wasn’t around. Not because she wasn’t good company, but because her conversation slowly began to include more references to marriage and cousins for Gideon. But he shrugged nonchalantly before rummaging through the cabinets. ”Mum rearranges the kitchen when she’s bored.” It drove Benny nuts, especially when he just wanted a simple bowl of cereal. He really shouldn’t have left his wand upstairs. Out of habit, he’d only grabbed his phone. Finally, he found the cabinet with the bowls, grabbing a bright green one. Now he needed a spoon.

Starting from the far left side, he opened every drawer until finding the silverware in the fourth one. Halfway there. The cereal was in the pantry, and the milk was in the fridge. And then, voila, he had a bowl of cereal. Benny brought it to the dining table before returning for the coffee Frankie mentioned. ”Thanks.” Coffee had quickly become a fixation for him and would likely remain so forever. Coffee and cereal? That was a decent breakfast, right? Or probably closer to lunch now. Sitting, he sipped the hot liquid and began to feel rejuvenated. ” Whey we ever drank tea is beyond me.” Coffee was infinitely better, in his opinion. But now it was just Benny with his older brother. The man looked almost the same as he remembered as a boy, even down to the same weariness in his eyes. The difference was Benny could look him directly in the eye now when before, he was always looking up.

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[Galen Francis Ollivander]

nothing.

THERE WAS NO MALICE TO GEHRY'S WORDS BUT still they landed hard like a slap. 'Mum rearranged the kitchen when she's bored', said off the cuff like it was obvious. Frankie had run so long ago, had amputated himself from his childhood home so effectively that the words bounced off him cold and unfamiliar. "She does..." He muttered blankly, a flat quality to his question that left them fuzzy and hot on the back of his mouth. "I wouldn't know." He grabbed his mug just for something to do, sipping it distractedly.

From his seat, Frankie watched silently as his little brother went about the kitchen with a tired comfort. Bowl, cereal, milk. The biggest serving spoon he could find and a steaming mug of coffee. It was all frightfully domestic in nature, making Frankie scowl into his mug in abject disgust. Was he jealous of the ease Gehry exuded? No, he didn't think so. At least, not in the conventional manner. He really needed to start sleeping through his mornings, sober hangovers were making him awfully introspective. It was embarrassing.

Pulling a seat nearby, Gehry slurped at his cereal like a dog over a water bowl. Frankie averted his gaze and thought of making himself a bowl, but hadn't the energy. "Is this small talk, Gehry?" Frankie inquired with a sarcastic little tilt to one brow. He took another glug of black coffee and let it numb his tongue while he imagined it was brandy. "Are we small talking while you're in your long johns eating Coco Pops?" He managed a snicker then, tilting his hips from his chair to pull a battered back of cigarettes from his back pocket. He knocked one free while he waited for Gehry to swallow. 

gehry benjamin ollivander

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[gehry benjamin ollivander]

Disconnected, out of mind

I’m unaffected by the times

May 1, 2027
Galen Francis Ollivander

Some things never changed. Years had passed, a decade even. Benny towered over his older brother. Veronica’s age gap allowed the eldest to lump Benny together with Gideon in her mind. Not that he minded, as it was never a bother. At least with Nell, the age gap was just over four years, far more manageable. But with Frankie, it was nearly nine years. At this moment, as he slumped over his cereal bowl as if his brain was telling him to become a smaller target, he felt small again. Benny paused as Frankie spoke, his eyes resting on him for a moment before looking back down at the table, unsure what to do or say.

He'd just wanted some breakfast and coffee before deciding what to do with his free time. In his mind, he could hear whatever retort Veronica might have come up with. Even Nell, though he was pretty certain she got along best with Frankie. It wasn’t for lack of trying on Benny’s end, but he lacked the horsepower of his oldest sister’s strong personality and Nell’s ambition. ”Benny.” He spoke calmly, putting his spoon in the bowl to retrieve more cereal. ”I go by Benny.” Unsure that Frankie would abide by his simple request, he stuffed the spoon in his mouth and focused on literally anything else.

It wasn’t that he disliked his first name. Using his middle was easier, or at least had been in primary school. And then it had shortened further to what he was accustomed to now. Would he protest if Frankie didn’t listen? Probably not. He’d never been the type to stand up and puff his chest out for any reason. Well, there were very few reasons that would give him the drive. Fighting with his brother was not one of them. His plan, for now, was the path of least resistance, much like how he didn’t correct his parents or Veronica when they insisted on using his given name. This all left Benny feeling like a small boy again, wondering about his older brother.

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[Galen Francis Ollivander]

nothing.

HUNCHED OVER HIS BOWL, FRANKIE WONDERED how much further he could send Gehry into the ceramic. At least until he started gurgling the milk straight from the bottom of the bowl. He frowned, thinking about all the ways he felt like a caricature of a villain. How awkward it was to sit at a table with a kid he could barely even remember. They were strangers sharing space, but Frankie was the odd one out, really. Not Gehry, and yet out of the two of them, Gehry looked the most uncomfortable. Perhaps Frankie was just too used to public humiliation, his childhood home had become something of a whipping post for him.

"Benny..." Frankie let the name roll around in his mouth. He tried not to appear pleased that he'd been corrected. Thinking of his parents, their sour disapproval that both of their precious Sons shed their family names. Hiding behind alternatives that strayed so far from tradition they may well have shed their surnames too. Frankie had considered it once or twice, spitefully. "Why?" He asked, playing dumb as he placed a cigarette between his teeth, a shark toothed grin curling the corners as he slouched back in his chair.

Pulling a disposable lighter from the corner of the pack, he flicked it alight with a callused thumb and burned a cherry on the end of the cig between his teeth. Drawing in a tight breath, he dropped both pack and light onto the table. With his hands free, he pulled the gold edged pebble plate from under the house plant in the middle of the table. Plucking the cigarette from between his lips, he ashed it once into the pebble plate he'd repurposed into a makeshift ashtray. Her chased it with a bitter gulp of coffee and a smokey exhale.

"So, Benny," He began, taking a draw from the corner of his mouth. "What do you do now, have you graduated yet?" With a lift of his brows, Frankie thought of the half dozen options that their parent's would approve of once O grades were no longer an option. "Saved the world yet? Or perhaps you'll take over the good ol' wand shop once Ronnie pops an aneurism." He shrugged gleefully, a deliberate haze of cigarette smoke wafting across the dining space. 

gehry benjamin ollivander

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[gehry benjamin ollivander]

Disconnected, out of mind

I’m unaffected by the times

May 1, 2027
Galen Francis Ollivander

The urge to curl up into a ball to make himself a tiny target came over Benny, but he ignored it. He told himself to simply focus on his cereal. Once he was done, he could leave, as Frankie clearly didn’t want him here. The thought sent a wave of emotion over the youngest, setting in his chest. Had their age gap not spanned almost a decade, would the brothers ever have a chance to get along? Benny often wondered. Much as the gap between Veronica and himself created a mothering dynamic, what was this between himself and his older brother?

Benny shrugged, shoulders still slumped. ”I dunno.” His classmates could never say it correctly, and the older Benny got, the more ridiculous he realized the name was. ”It's sort of absurd, isn’t it?” Cautiously, Benny let his eyes slowly move to Frankie. His tone wasn’t strong. While Benny was intensely loyal to his family, one had to question the sanity of the individual who chose the spelling of his given name. After a second, he re-focused on his coffee and cereal. The dark liquid was still hot but not so warm it would immediately burn him after taking a large drink from the mug.

Maybe Frankie would agree or find some other snarky way to insult Benny. Like some animals unused to threats, physically, he was almost bracing for what came next. Rather than respond, Benny looked at Frankie and blinked a few times. Merlin, he really was out of the loop, wasn’t he? Slowly, he nodded a ‘yes’ before adding weakly. ”I’ve…I’ve been out of school for five years.” But how was he supposed to keep track of the last decade and a half? Not that it comforted Benny by any means. ”No…I work at Flourish and Blotts.” Something about his brother’s tone made Benny feel bad for admitting that out loud. He wasn’t the student his sisters had both been nor had he wanted to. ”I help Ronnie sweep up sometimes. And Nell too…at her shop.” Benny wasn’t employed by either. They were his sisters. He was happy to do the simple task and talk to them.

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[Galen Francis Ollivander]

nothing.

THERE WAS A LIMITED SATISFACTION TO THE feasting of his little brothers discomfort. Frankie tried to lean in to it, thickening the tension and pooling into his space until he seemed to shrivel at the edges. But, it wasn't as fun as nipping at Ronnie. He just looked skinny and meek in the watery glow of the ambient lighting. Milk droplets clinging to the fair smattering of scruff on his angular chin. He looked almost familiar, like a snapshot of Frankie at 17, sitting at the dining table and pretending like he fit there. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Absurd?" Frankie's brow quirked, his lips curling as if to tease. "What's absurd?" He asked dumbly, leaning back in his seat and wondering what 'Benny' might say. Was it his ridiculous given name, or the whole charade in general. Frankie would be keen to say the latter, but Ollivander's tended to stick with their own. Well, most of the time. Benny would be no different, a slave to his own shameless loyalty.

It's with this assurance that Frankie is certain he knows which path his brother had taken. Diligent wandmaker, a good son, a magical son. Something to carry on their esteemed name. "Flourish- is that... isn't that the... book shop?" Frankie asked in astonishment. Never mind that the skinny swath of a boy had been graduated for five years in Frankie's absence. It was his job that caught him by surprise. Hadn't he been groomed from birth, as Frankie had been? It left him feeling green about the gills and he ashed his cigarette just for something to do.

"And... what do mummy and daddy say about that?" He licked his dry, tobacco chapped lips and thought of all the ways he'd disappointed his parents, how they had reminded him of that disappointment. Frankie had spent so much of his childhood feeling guilty about lacking something fundamental that it had never occurred to him that he'd had a choice. All of that had been taken from him, like some cruel gift of fate. And there was Benny, with a legacy wand in one hand, and a sweeping brush in the other. It was sick. 

gehry benjamin ollivander

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[gehry benjamin ollivander]

Disconnected, out of mind

I’m unaffected by the times

May 1, 2027
Galen Francis Ollivander

If Benny had worked hard on anything in his life, it would have been how he had decided that exercise wasn’t so bad. The normally lanky boy had begun to put on some muscle in the previous years. Leading the already always-hungry Benny to constantly eat even more. But at that moment, he had lost his appetite. Not to mention, the combination of lukewarm bitter coffee sat uneasily in his stomach with his cereal. Or was this how shame truly felt? Like nausea nipping at the back of one’s throat. But most of all, Benny felt confused—how did one speak endlessly through the inflections of their voice without hardly using any words at all.

Swallowing hard, Benny’s shoulders slumped further. Out of the corner of his eye, he chanced a look at Frankie. His beloved old brother. From his brow to the narrow way his jaw squared reminded Benny of their resemblance. All these years later, Benny was still that small nine-year-old boy watching his big brother leave their family home for what was probably intended to be forever. Sheepishly, he shrugged one shoulder, forgetting his hand was still holding the spoon in the bowl. ”I mean…I dunno. It's just…of all the names that begin with ‘G’, why ‘Gehry’?” Benny had this conversation with Nell and others, so he knew he wasn’t crazy, yet at this moment, he felt absurd for merely having the thought. Perhaps he shouldn’t have corrected his brother and let him continue to use his given name as Veronica did.

And now Frankie’s tone sounded all too familiar. Like the naysayers who looked Benny up and down and wondered how such a boy dared carry the Ollivander name when his sisters pulled the weight of what it meant to exist as an Ollivander in the magical world. But, as it typically was in families, siblings knew all the shortcuts behind one’s walls regardless of how thick one made their skin. ”They erm—“ Benny stopped to clear his throat, the dryness causing his voice to crack slightly like he’d suddenly de-aged ten years. ”They didn’t really…” Benny trailed off, voice growing weaker with every word. They hadn’t ever pushed him to take over their father’s business. For as long as Benny could remember, Veronica ran the show, so to speak.

The thought occurred to Benny that perhaps he should have tried, if that was the destiny people wanted for him. At this impasse, Benny wondered if he should remain quiet since every word that left the youngest’s mouth seemed to draw his big brother's ire. But, as he pushed around the soggy cereal long forgotten in his cereal bowl, Benny spoke weakly again in his defense. ”I help Nell with wands sometimes. And Ronnie.” Opening his mouth again, Benny realized he had nothing else to add. The fact that his life could be summarized in so few words: a bookstore employee who swept up at his sister’s shops made him feel rather pitiful and small. ”I should go. I have…work.” Benny lied, merely looking for an escape. Fighting had never been his strong suit, preferring to avoid such situations, although he’d never mentally prepared that such a situation would involve his family.

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[Galen Francis Ollivander]

nothing.

IT WAS ALMOST CIVILISED, FRANKIE THOUGHT. His little brother leaning in to his stilted explanation of their poor misfortune with tradition. Frankie felt the ghost of a smile on his mouth, lulled into a temporary silence as he watched 'Benny' despair at the ridiculousness of it all. Frankie thought, perhaps for the first time, that Benny reminded him of Nell in some way. Unabashed in his questioning of family expectation. He was not the snotty nine year old replacement, after all.

"Absurd..." Frankie said again, this time with a knowing little smirk. "Least it's not Gerry, right?" He muttered, leaning back in his seat as he ashed out his cigarette and hunkered down to watch his brother struggle with a simple interaction. He felt like a stranger in his own family home, Benny fidgeting in his presence like he was an unwanted house guest. Frankie supposed he probably was, given the fact that when he had left he'd had no intention of ever coming back. He could have used a drink right about then.

Brows rising slowly, Frankie realised what Benny wasn't saying. He hadn't been pushed, forced and folded into the perfect shape of the perfect son. He'd been given the freedom to do as he pleased. Frankie recalled his childhood, back before they'd realised what he was. Wand lore, wood lore, lesson after lesson on the proper business etiquette of a good and moral wandmaker. And Ronnie, subsequently, hanging over his shoulder for every single part of it. Moaning about the fact that she had been born first. Well, luckily for her, Frankie had gone and kicked the magical bucket.

"Good for you," Frankie said dryly, already reaching back into his pocket for his battered pack of cigarettes. He wasn't bitter, he couldn't bear to appear bitter. Benny had all the right parts to be the right kind of heir, but he supposed he'd been too young to fend Ronnie off. By the time he'd been old enough to start learning in earnest, Ronnie would have already been nipping at their father's heels, the perfect wandmaker.

"Do you like it?" He asked with a careless air, though his attention was pinned on benny as he spooned at his cereal without much care. "You know..." His smile was short, and sour at the edges. It made his face look a little mean, and suddenly very old. "I used to love it." And then he lit up his second cigarette and looked away, disallowing any further prying of the boy Frankie used to be. He let out a breath and gave his hand a little wave. "Best be off," He told him, letting out a plume of smoke. "Don't keep her waiting on my watch." 

gehry benjamin ollivander

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[gehry benjamin ollivander]

Disconnected, out of mind

I’m unaffected by the times

May 1, 2027
Galen Francis Ollivander

It occurred to Benny that perhaps he did serve a purpose in this family if not for carrying on the family legacy of creating wands for the magical public. His father had borne a son who was not magical. Benny, as the second son, was to live the life of the spare, but in reality, he was perhaps just his parent's attempt to prove that Ollivanders could produce a son and heir who was magical. Already feeling dejected, the weight of these thoughts made him slump further. Had Frankie not been a squib would Benny even exist at all? What would be the point? It was no wonder his father never pushed him into the shop management.

Frankie was unimpressed with Benny's explanation. But most people were if he was honest. They wondered how a member of such a prestigious family ended up with the riff-raff. Absent-mindedly, Benny pushed around the remaining soggy cereal bits, no longer hungry. At first, he was tempted to ask for clarification. Did he like what? But he didn't want more negative attention from his brother than he had already received. "Yes." Benny nodded, and he did—but the other pressures were what he avoided. "I like helping Nell. She experiments more than Ronnie." Benny explained, though not asked. "Ronnie lets me help when Gideon isn't there." he supposed it made sense as the new heir. Not that Benny would complain about less work.

Blankly, he blinked at Frankie. He enjoyed wand making? "I didn't know that…" But what could he have known at such a young age? And yet, he felt guilty for some reason. Remembering his 'work' excuse, Benny hesitated but stood, placing his bowl in the sink. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so uncomfortable. But Benny stopped as he passed the dining table and his older brother. Hesitant to speak, he pushed himself. "Y-You should visit The Violet Hound." A thought occurred to Benny, and only because that face floated in his mind so very often. "Speak to the owner—she'll remember you." Doubting Frankie would take any direction from his little brother, Benny didn't look at him and left the kitchen.

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[Galen Francis Ollivander]

nothing.

LEANING BACK IN HIS CHAIR, FRANKIE ROCKED on the two back legs carelessly. Toes catching under the tables legs, he took a long draw of his cigarette and regarded Benny in a new and strange way. Always seen as the son they were supposed to have, Frankie had spent a lot of his loneliest nights hating Benny for simply existing. Like he wasn't enough because he was a squib, something he hadn't chosen to be. However, this boy wasn't the perfect son. No, if Frankie were calculating the perfect Ollivander heir, he envisioned someone much more like 'Gideon' than 'Benny'. With his stretched out t-shirts and his sloppy bowls of cereal. It made him... almost tolerable.

"Nell thinks about the future of wandmaking," Frankie agreed, a narrow-eyed expression on his face as he nodded in a quiet, smoky approval. "They don't know it right now, but eventually... the old ways'll die." Frankie mumbled carelessly, though he'd been ousted from the family legacy many years ago, he still knew more than people gave him credit for. He knew that more foreign cores were becoming readily available, he knew that every year a new forest of tended, magical wood was farmed and cut and shipped further afield. He also knew that Ronnie would die a traditionalist before she accepted the change. He wondered, secretly and quietly, if he'd have been quite so rigid himself if he'd inherited as he was supposed to. The thought stung like bile at the back of his throat.

"Why would you?" Frankie scoffed, feeling bitter with nostalgia. Benny was much too young to remember a skinny, nine year old Frankie dwarfed by a tower of wand craft books. How he used to sit before the Ollivander's magical forest farms and listen to the trees talk as he wrote in the margins. "Nobody cares about a squib who liked wands." He rolled his eyes and let his mouth slacken from its pinched anger. It wasn't Benny's fault, he reminded himself. And he didn't care anymore; this thought was harder to push. The mention of the Violet Hound came like a promise after that, and Frankie didn't even have the chance to ask Benny what he meant before he'd up and left. He put his cigarette out using the table leg and sat in silence for a very long time before leaving.

[END FRANKIE]

gehry benjamin ollivander

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!