AU: Downton Abbey in the modern world. Just think of it as like an indie movie... about life and like, hipsters.
Part 1: All our friends on Abbey Street
Edith Crawley was looking in the mirror. Two pair of hazel eyes were staring blankly back at her, something a little uneven about them. Her hair was golden, short and rather plain and her nose more prominent than she would have liked. Her lips were alright.
There was a rapping at the door and Edith moved to open it.
It was Mary with her perfectly arched eyebrows. Her sister stood there, hands on her hips, eyes raking over the younger woman's attire with disdain.
"Did someone die in that?"
Edith crossed her arms self consciously. Her short sleeved dress, covered in black sequins patterned with red and green beads shaped into large roses, stopped just above her knees, flowing straight and doing no justice to her body shape. So it was a bit old fashioned, pinched from an op shop and all, but Edith was an old fashioned kind of girl. Her parents never understood why she bought clothes that had been worn before… it wasn't like as if they couldn't afford new ones. But Edith did many things her family never understood.
"What in god's name are those…" Mary continued, her inspection advancing towards Edith's spotted mint coloured stockings down to her brown leather brogues. Edith's face immediately felt hot with rage as her sister squeezed past her and walked about the room. The fish tank on the bedside table caught Mary's attention and she cringed her face in disgust and averted her eyes.
"How you can wake up every morning to that… thing is disturbing."
"What do you want?" Edith snapped impatiently.
Mary gave her a questioning look with an inclined eyebrow, "first of all… those shoulder pads-"
"Argh!" Edith groaned rolling her eyes as she pushed past Mary and made her way downstairs, the volume of noise increasing as she approached. She wouldn't give her sister the satisfaction by changing her attire, but as she was met with about a dozen pairs of eyes in the living room alone she suddenly felt as if everyone was judging her now that Mary had already made her feel less than adequate.
"Edith!" her younger sister called out from across the room, surrounded by her high-school friends.
"Good, I told Mary to get you… I wanted you to meet someone."
Sybil, on the other hand, sweet Sybil, told her she liked her dress which earned a small smile from Edith before she attended to Sybil's company; two out of three of whom she already knew.
There was Thomas; Thomas who made heads turn, girls and boys alike, but only responded to the latter. He had a snobby, and smug countenance yet was strikingly handsome with dark hair greased back, blue eyes and sharp features. He wore a denim jacket with a simple white shirt underneath and black jeans.
Then there was polite little Gwen; a ginger haired girl with green eyes, spotted with freckles in her flowery summery dress and blue cardigan.
At last Sybil introduced a shy young man, clad in a brown leather jacket, black pants and very worn out sneakers. His hair was combed back with a bit of a lick hanging over his forehead. Tom his name was and from what Edith gathered during the conversation; the dropkick musician turned mechanic apprentice who lived down the road.
Where Sybil found these friends, she didn't know. Then again Sybil didn't find friends, they found her. And one could say the same about Mary and her suitors.
Her older sister had just stalked across the room with her blonde and blue-eyed boyfriend, Matthew in tow, possibly heading into the library. As she did, Edith noticed people's heads turning and their expression changing into awe at the sight of her sister as usual. Edith observed rather bitterly, the maroon dress that clung to Mary in all the right places and as much as she hated to admit it, Mary did look quite nice. Matthew certainly thought so. Dear, sweet, Matthew who acknowledged Edith with a smile before he was dragged away by the devil. Sometimes she thought he was the only person that really saw her and Edith ignored the small painful tugging at her heart.
She returned to the present company; Sybil conversing animatedly with her friends, something about an upcoming party… which they were invited to. All but Edith obviously, and feeling rather awkward now that she couldn't contribute much to the topic, her attention fleeted around the room.
She observed the older women mingling at the sofas; granny being a racist and Matthew's mother Isobel politely disagreeing with her while Aunt Rosamund and her mum exchanged awkward here-we-go-again glances. John and Anna, old friends of Edith's parents back when they were in college were huddled together in a corner making eyes at eachother like puppies over a plate of cheesecake; still going strong like lovesick teenagers well after years of marriage. By the window was her father with his work mate Molsley, in a loud discussion of sorts like they were at opposite sides of the field, on the subject of which was most likely cricket judging from all the dramatic arm movements flailing about.
Moments later, in a room full of strangers, Edith mentally unglued herself from the ochre wallpaper and moved to the dining room, bumping into Mrs Hughes, the elder lady from next door, and her friend MrCarson, residing opposite the Crawley's house, at the doorway about to leave with plates full of canapés.
"Edith! You look… charming," Mrs Hughes said non too confidently, her eyes flickering from Edith's head to her very toes as she smiled with difficulty.
"Thanks Mrs Hughes… hello Mr Carson," Edith mumbled with embarrassment before she marched stiffly for the cheese platter.
She pushed down the bubbling frustration with a mouthful of crackers and cheese and turned to the kitchen, stopping in her tracks as she noticed the man leaning against the kitchen counter holding a beer in one hand staring at her. He was tall, lean and fair haired - and if that wasn't the ugliest hawaiian shirt she'd ever seen she didn't know what was.
"Hello," he said in a deep voice.
"Hi," she replied, cautiously watching the unfamiliar man as she walked towards the refrigerator situated in front of him. She opened the door, rummaged inside, closed it again and leant back and faced him, clutching a bottle of Corona. Now that she could see him closer he had deep set sparkling blue eyes and a slightly crooked… slightly large nose. His thin, fine hair was blonde, roots were brown, short and falling to to either side of his face. He had a few wrinkles here and there. He was probably in the middle of his forties.
"Are you old enough to drink that?" he asked motioning to the drink in her hands slightly amused.
She only smiled at him as she unfastened the lid, taking a rather girly sip, before holding the bottle awkwardly in her hands trying not to cringe. Edith felt like a fifteen year old experiencing alcohol for the first time. In fact, it was her first time - at nineteen… oh my god, that's embarrassing, she thought. He pulled away from the wooden counter and glanced around, grabbed a lemon off the fruit basket and asked her, "may I?"
Edith moved to a drawer near the sink, pulled out a knife and handed it over to him. He cut the lemon on the sink and motioned for her drink. He slipped a slice inside then returned it to her.
"Should taste slightly better now," he told her. She tried it. So there was a mere lemon tang to it, but it still tasted bad, yet she gave a small nod of approval and thanked him.
They enjoyed their drinks in silence for a short while awkwardly smiling and catching and avoiding each other's gaze, listening to the mixed chatter coming from the other rooms.
So Edith wasn't much of a fashionista, but even a blind person would agree that his salmon coloured top belonged in a fire.
"So… do you live around here?" Edith started trying to sound as natural as she could.
"I live about six houses down… your father invited me," he said conversationally.
"Really? I've never seen you…" she mused. Her father never mentioned him. Or maybe he had but she forgot.
He smiled kindly at her and said, "I don't really like to go out much."
Edith smiled back.
"Neither do I."
And so it was, inside the Crawley house, between the fridge and the kitchen counter, two unlikely strangers began a conversation of sorts.
AN: Not too happy with the summary yet... "The peculiar friendship of two lonely people." I should just rename the whole thing "two annoying hipsters smoking pot and listening to the Smiths..."
Anyway, as you can see I will be drawing many similarities of the original universe and put it into context. So that should be fun.