Fanfics

Envy - by hartorotica

II. Envy
[resentment which occurs when someone lacks another's quality, achievement or possession and wishes that the other lacked it.]
June 13, 2013
So she has decided that the one girl in short shorts and low cut out top from #NoFilterShow was possibly not the human-like version of Satan for trying to get a few more extra hugs out of Hannah Hart. No. She is now sat in front of her computer screen, staring and frowning at this girl who dresses like Hannah and imitates Hannah and sounds like Hannah and even has a nose stud like Hannah. In the same nostril. And there's a video of her constantly flirting with Hannah. This, she feels, is enough to elevate Ashley Mardell to Mortal Nemesis status. She's aware that the video has been recorded weeks ago and that she, in fact, has seen Hannah more recently than this Ashley girl, but fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Goose barks and for the first time ever, she wants to snap at the dog instead of cradling it in her arms.
"It's good, isn't it?"
She turns around in confusion. Mamrie is looking at her funnily before gesturing at the screen of her iMac. The video has ended, but the title is still there, staring back at her. Mamrie must have heard the sound of it. And Mamrie, being an amazing friend to Hannah, has already watched it and phoned her and told her how much she totes loved the episode and how Ashley is going to make it big one day. Grace secretly hopes that the only thing about Ashley that will get big is her ass if she keeps eating tater tots. This, she realises, is a horrible thought. And unlikely, cause Ashley looks good. Too good. She contemplates going for runs again, like she used to.
"Mames?" She asks, dragging out the words, "Am I attractive?"
The redhead looks at her as if she has grown a second head. Seating herself next to Grace on the chair she drags from the living room, she looks at the black screen and then back at Grace, trying to connect the dots between the blonde's thoughts.
"Are you attractive," She repeats, "Or are you more attractive than Ashley?"
"What?" Grace snorts, "Don't be so ridiculous." She glances at the thumbnail on the right hand side, "That's a child."
"Legally speaking, that's an adult." Mamrie smirks, "Oh, come on, Grace. She's class, isn't she. Hannah was raving on about her on the phone." She gets up, rubbing Grace's back, "But don't fret, she's a baby Tuber. It'll take her a few years to get where you are now. And by that time, you'll have moved on to bigger things. Don't worry about it, Helbig."
Mamrie's words ricochet between her ears. Moved on to bigger things. Baby Tuber. Hannah was raving about her on the phone. Why would Hannah rave about some stupid college kid, anyway? She suppresses an urge to hit her desk and stalk off, and instead smiles.
"She's good, that Ashley." She lies through gritted teeth, "I'm sure she'll be great."
-
She's still waiting for Hannah's inevitable phone call. Complimentary 'dude' and giggling included. She's dreading this phone call more than anything, because it is evident that she is a very, very bad liar. She was lucky at the NoFilterShow, Hannah must have really been caught off guard if she failed to see Grace had been lying. But now the brunette was undoubtedly alert as hell. And thus she was going to have to pick up the phone and listen to Hannah's rant and then say that yes, Ashley was hilarious and yes, they looked amazing in that video. Stupid Ashley Mardell.
"Are you alright?" Mamrie's voice sounds from behind her, "You've been unusually quiet today."
"I'm fine." Grace assures her, "Just waiting for Hannah to call."
There is a short silence. It turns into one of those silences that are quite obviously awkward, but you are afraid to acknowledge them because it will just get worse. But well, this is good exercise for that phone call. Grace turns around and looks at a very baffled Mamrie.
"Why don't you call her then, if the waiting bothers you?" The redhead asks, unsure why Grace hasn't thought of that herself.
Oh shit.
"You're right." Grace nods, "I may as well call her myself. Sorry Mames, had a bad night of sleep, I'm not thinking very straight."
This is not a lie, actually. She's had a terrible night because she basically seemed unable to fall asleep. And she hasn't been thinking straight, because her mind was fogged with images of Hannah writhing below her as she kissed down the younger girl's chest and - no. She has definitely not been thinking very straight, recently.
-
The phone is ringing and part of her hopes that Hannah is too busy with something so that she can avoid talking to her directly. Then she hears the click at the other side of the line and her hope is extinguished instantly.
"Grace!" The brunette sounds cheery, "Baby! How are you, dude?"
"Great." She smiles, genuinely, "How have you been?"
"Eh, awesome." Hannah responds, and this makes Grace bite her lip in joy, "Have you seen that video of Ashley and I? People love it. Oh Grace, you have to meet her when she comes see me in Los Angeles, you'd totally love her."
There are more things wrong with that message than she cares to elaborate. The main component of her now foul mood is the fact that this fucking nobody from Minnesota is coming up to Los Angeles to see Hannah. Satan seems like a choir kid in comparison with this girl. Don't let it show. Don't let it show. Don't let it -
"You okay, dude?" She can literally tell Hannah is frowning, "You got so quiet? Hello?"
"I'm here, sorry." Grace clears her throat, "Goose distracted me."
"Aw, Goosey!" Hannah doesn't skip a beat, "I do miss her loads."
How about me? Do you miss me? Cause I sure as fuck seem to miss you.
"Hm."
"Of course I don't miss her half as much as I miss you." Hannah adds, and the fact that she picked up on this does make Grace's heart flutter a bit, "I'm going to come to yours the second I get back to LA."
"Are you now?"
"Yeah." Hannah laughs, "Cause I need some Corona's and Goose biting my leg and you being an affectionate drunk and cuddling me." She does do that, she realises, drunk cuddle Hannah, "And between you and I, Grace, I'm getting hugs like... dozens of hugs per day." There is jealousy rearing its ugly green head, "But none of them cuddle me as epically as you do."
Word vomit. Keep it in. Keep. It. In.
"How about Ashley?" Oh God, it sounds like venom, "Do I cuddle better than she does?"
"Deffo." Hannah doesn't hesitate a second, "Although hers are pretty good too. You'll see when she comes visit me."
Second time. Grace does not like this girl - and that's an euphemism. She wants to be honest with Hannah. Hey Hannah, look. I got something to say to you. For some reason, I haven't been able to get you off my mind since you left Los Angeles and I had to come see you in Canada and when you kissed me there and then, it just did something with me. And I don't know whether it was a joke and I don't know what it means but Jesus fuck, I want to kiss you again. I want to cuddle with you on my couch but not let go of you at the end of the night. I want to take you to bed and tell you what you mean to me and fuck you senseless. In a good way. I wanna fuck you in a good way. She's smart enough to keep that bit of word vomit to herself.
"I miss you." She manages to say, "I can't wait for the 22nd."
"I miss you too, Grace." Hannah says, and she can swear that she can hear her smiling, "Look, I got to go now, but I'll text you later, okay?"
"Hm."
"I love you, Grace." She hears Hannah say, "Okay. Byeee."
Hannah mocks her catchphrase and then hangs up, but it doesn't stop Grace from sitting there at her desk for a few moments, the phone pressed against her ear and her eyes still glued on the screen where Ashley Mardell is smirking back at her. She said she loved me. Fuck the fact that she probably didn't mean it any differently from how she tells everyone she loves them, all the fucking time. No. This one was hers and hers alone, and Hannah said it to her and therefore it counts. Period
"Mamrie?" She calls to the kitchen, where the redhead is setting up things for a YDAD take, "Do you think there's a difference between jealousy and envy?"
"Well," Mamrie walks over, a bottle of booze in each hand, "I think that jealousy is when you want something that someone else has. And envy is when you want something someone else has and don't want anyone to have what you have then, either." She concludes, "Grace, would I use Bourbon or Jameson's?"
That's clear. She's officially not jealous of Ashley Mardell for having spent an entire evening with Drunk Hannah, hugging her and pushing her glasses up her head and flirting shamelessly. Because she doesn't want something that is Ashley's ('cause Hannah is not Ashley's, no way), no, she wants to have Hannah Hart to herself and she doesn't want anyone to have Hannah, ever.
"Jameson's." She hears herself say, "And make it strong. I'll be there in a sec."
She grabs her phone and opens up her message menu. I love you too, you idiot. But mock my 'bye' again and you're dead to me. She types, and sends it to Hannah before sticking her phone in her pocket. Nine days until Hannah gets home. She's got nine days to muster up some courage and tell her how she feels.