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3rd Person POV
Georgie slowly opened his eyes, the ceiling above him seeming to sway as the pounding hangover in his head refused to fade.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a glow across his face that made him groan in irritation. Still, he forced himself to sit up.
"Ugh…" he groaned, clutching his head. His mind was a blur, and he couldn't recall what had happened the night before—but he could feel someone lying beside him.
"What the hell…" he muttered, turning to see a woman still fast asleep next to him.
Panic hit him like a wave. He couldn't remember how he and Kayla ended up in the same bed.
His eyes darted down. He was still fully clothed, but Kayla—she was under the blanket, seemingly naked. He couldn't tell if she was wearing anything underneath.
"This is bad…" Georgie whispered, carefully pulling himself away from her. "I don't remember a damn thing…"
He double checking his body. Still dressed. No missing clothes.
"Well, at least I'm still in one piece…"
"Georgie…" Kayla mumbled sleepily, her eyes fluttering open. She looked at him with a groggy smile as he sat at the edge of the bed, visibly confused.
"Where are you going?" she asked, just as the blanket slipped, revealing more of her body than he was prepared to see.
"I don't remember anything," Georgie said, quickly averting his gaze.
Kayla tilted her head and smiled, noticing his awkward discomfort. "You really don't remember last night?" she whispered, moving closer and wrapping an arm around him. She leaned in and murmured into his ear, "You're amazing when you're drunk…"
Then she kissed his cheek.
Georgie pulled away, shaking his head.
"Stop messing with me. I know nothing happened between us." he said sharply, locking eyes with her.
Kayla only giggled. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying the moment.
Georgie sighed in relief but lightly tapped her on the head.
"Get dressed. I seriously can't remember a thing."
Kayla pouted, then stood up from the bed.
"Seriously? Not even a little reaction after seeing all this?" she teased, striking a pose—completely unclothed.
Georgie looked only at her face, his expression weary.
"Don't make me angry." he said softly but firmly. There was no amusement in his voice.
Her body tensed at his tone, and she quickly turned and dashed into the bathroom.
Left alone, Georgie sat back down and closed his eyes, trying to recall the fragments of last night. A few minutes goes by and little by little, his memory come to him.
"I did a gig…" he muttered, bits and pieces slowly coming back. "Did I drink too much? What the hell happened?"
"Nothing happened, Georgie" Kayla said, now dressed and toweling off her face. "You just got drunk and sang."
A few more memories surfaced.
"Yeah… I remember the gig. A few give me more drinks…"
"Yes, and you drank it like water," Kayla said, half-laughing and half-worrying. "I don't know what got into you, but you drank way too much last night."
"Where the hell is that son of mine?!" a loud voice suddenly roared from behind the door.
Georgie instantly straightened up, exchanging a helpless glance with Kayla. Seconds later, George burst into the room—Veronica trailing behind him, her expression a mixture of shock and hurt as she saw Georgie in the room with Kayla.
"Seriously? What the hell were you thinking?!" George snapped. "I thought you were better than this, Georgie!"
Georgie stared at his father, dazed. He still couldn't remember much. His eyes searched Veronica's face for answers, but all he saw was cold disappointment.
"You don't remember anything?!" George barked. "You drank like a lunatic!"
"Ah… yeah. It's coming back to me…" Georgie said with an awkward chuckle. "I'm really sorry about this, Dad."
Just then, Fenley arrived with Rosie and the rest of the band.
"Yo, Georgie! Nice—" James began but immediately shut his mouth upon seeing George and Veronica.
Fenley gave a sheepish grin. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Cooper. He slipped away from my watch."
"No. He was being an idiot because of what happened at home," George said, eyes still fixed on his son.
Georgie exhaled heavily. "Alright, Dad… I'll do whatever you want," he muttered.
"I know someone—he's a psychologist," Rosie offered. "If you'd like, I can take Georgie to him."
"That sounds like a good idea," George replied, still watching Georgie.
But Georgie wasn't looking at his father anymore—he was staring at Fenley, who avoided his gaze.
"Your mother's furious with you!" George added.
That got Georgie's attention. His eyes widened in horror.
"Come on! Why'd you have to tell her?!" he groaned, turning to Veronica.
Still, she said nothing. Her silence stung more than any words.
"She was at the bar too! You really don't remember that?!" George exclaimed.
Georgie blinked. "No… I don't remember seeing her…" he admitted, then turned to Veronica. "Can I talk to you alone?"
George looked ready to object, but Fenley and Rosie gently took his arms, pulling him toward the door.
"Sure, Prince," James said mockingly, causing everyone—except Veronica—to laugh. Even George chuckled.
One by one, they left the room. Only Georgie and Veronica remained.
Still grumbling about the new nickname, Georgie turned to her.
"Can you come here? I want to hug you…" he said, holding out his arms.
Veronica didn't move. She stared at him blankly.
Georgie sighed. "Nothing happened between me and Kayla," he said, rising from the bed and approaching her.
"I passed out. I don't remember anything after the first few songs… Do you believe me?"
Veronica exhaled slowly. She had been there. She knew what happened—at least part of it. But she had no idea where Georgie went after the performance.
He had disappeared backstage with the band and left the bar in a hurry.
"Stop. I don't want you to touch me right now," Veronica said once he stood before her. "You reek of another woman…"
"…Alright. I'm sorry, Veronica." Georgie said, his voice barely a whisper. "At least… can you tell me what happened last night?"
Veronica stared at him, disbelief in her eyes.
"Didn't you just say you remembered?"
"I lied…" Georgie admitted, turning away from her gaze.
Veronica sighed and sat down on the bed, "No," she said, then got up and moved to the couch. "Alright…" She said again after rejecting sitting down on the bed.
Georgie watched her, heart sinking.
"What do you actually remember from last night?" she asked, as Georgie sat across from her.
"I remember drinking… singing…" he began, struggling to piece things together.
Veronica sighed again, shaking her head.
"…Alright."
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Veronica's POV
After our conversation at the Cooper house, Mary, George, and I headed out to watch his gig and hopefully convince him again.
"What do you think, Veronica?" Mary asked again, glancing at me.
Honestly, I had no idea what to expect. I didn't know just how angry or hurt Georgie really was.
"I want to trust him. I just don't want to hurt him again… not after everything that happened before…" Mary said, trying to smile, but her expression was more awkward than reassuring.
I already knew about the incident with Pastor Jeff. Georgie had told me he was fine with it. But deep down, Mary was right—whether he admitted it or not, things like that slowly chip away at your heart.
"We already talked about this," George cut in firmly. "Don't question it again. We're bringing Georgie home and talk to him again."
I could see the discomfort in his eyes. He clearly wasn't happy about the situation either. He was a good father, and agreeing with Mary must've been a hard decision for him.
His son wasn't crazy.
Taking him to a psychologist as if he were mentally unstable—it didn't sit right with George.
Mary nodded silently, and I did the same. The car ride was filled with an uncomfortable silence until we arrived at the venue.
"Hahaha! That was the best performance! Who is that kid anyway?!" one of the customers laughed loudly as he exited the place.
Another man chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, last time he was here is already the best! Now? he was already killing it on stage."
"That kid's Awesome!" a third guy burst out laughing, "But now he really wasted!"
George and I exchanged a tense look. Mary's face turned pale with horror.
"They're not talking about Georgie," George said quickly, trying to calm Mary down.
But we all hurried inside the honky tonk, hearts pounding.
The scene hit us instantly. Georgie had just finished his performance and was now dancing around with the crowd. Another band kept playing a country tune I didn't recognize, but it had the whole room feeling alive.
"GEORGIE!" Mary shouted—but no one seemed to hear her over the music and laughter.
It was clear—Georgie had been drinking. He'd completely lost control.
George was fuming. He stormed toward Georgie, his steps heavy with anger.
"What the hell happened?!" Mary shouted again and rushed backstage. I followed her, looking for Miss Fenley—or anyone who could explain what was going on.
"Fenley!" Mary screamed, her voice fighting against the music—or maybe she just wanted to scream at her.
"What happened to my son?!" she snapped once she reached Miss Fenley.
Miss Fenley looked genuinely confused. "What? Nothing happened to Georgie!" she replied.
"You don't know what happened to him?!" I added, yelling just to be heard.
James and the others joined us, concerned faces all around. "Hey Veronica! What's going on?" James asked—but Kayla wasn't with him.
I shook my head and moved closer to him. Mary was still confronting Miss Fenley, and it looked like her patience had completely run out—she grabbed Fenley by the arm and dragged her out of backstage.
"Georgie's drunk! Do any of you know what happened?!" I shouted, staring at James. "Where's Kayla?!"
James and Edo looked at each other. "I don't know! She was with him earlier!" James answered.
A sinking feeling hit me. Something told me Kayla had something to do with this—and now she was nowhere to be found.
Then we heard it.
"Hello everyone!! Ohh hey, Mom!" Georgie's voice echoed through the mic.
All of us froze and rushed toward the stage.
There he was—standing under the spotlight, face flushed, with a strange smile.
"I want to sing for my family tonight," he said, the smile fading. "I know I haven't been the best son, but I'm trying…" His voice cracked with slur on his voice.
"I just want you all to be happy… not worried about anything. For my brother and sister… I just want you to always be happy…"
He turned his gaze toward me and smiled softly. "And for my girl… I'm sorry for being an asshole…"
But his eyes weren't on me anymore—they locked with Mary's.
I walked over to her and stood beside her. Everyone looked tense, unsure of what to do.
Georgie grabbed a guitar and took a beer bottle offered by someone in the crowd.
"Aww, thanks man…" he said.
Mary's face was livid.
"Don't you dare, young man!!" she shouted, but Georgie simply ignored her and took a long sip.
"Whooopp… thanks to the gentleman over there…"
The crowd cheered, enjoying his antics. George looked ready to leap onstage, but someone blocked his way.
"Let him sing first, man!" the stranger said. "I don't know who you are, but let him sing!"
"Sing!"
"Sing!"
"Sing!"
George growled and clenched his fists. "Move! I'm his father!". The man blinked and laughed nervously, "Sorry, man… but let him sing. Let him get it out."
Mary glanced at me and Fenley, silently pleading for help.
"Let him," Fenley whispered to her.
"Let him?!" Mary snapped.
"He needs to let it out," Fenley insisted gently.
Before anyone else could speak, Georgie started playing.
Everyone's attention returned to him—Georgie stood alone on stage, his fingers gently brushing over the strings of his guitar, creating a deep, soulful harmony.
🎵 ("Human" – Cody Johnson) 🎵
"I thought by now I'd have it figured out
How not to make the easy thing so hard to do…"
The crowd fell completely silent. No one said a word, like they'd been hypnotized by the weight of his voice—gravelly, smooth, and strikingly sincere.
"I bet that I'd be further down this road
If I could read the signs that point me to the truth…"
He strummed with a soft smile, scanning the audience slowly until his eyes stopped—right on his father. For a second, he didn't look like a performer. He looked like a son, reaching out with his heart.
"I never planned on being nothin' but a cowboy
But somewhere I picked up this old guitar…"
I could feel it—Georgie was holding something back. There was a weight in his chest he hadn't let go of yet. George, his father, watched him with unwavering intensity.
"Girl, all I can say is that I'm sorry
If I get kinda careless with your heart…"
Then Georgie looked at me, that soft honesty in his eyes. A glance that felt more like an apology than words could ever be.
"All the headlights, all the midnights
Chasin' all that empty, still ain't got it right…"
His voice rose—not in anger, but in a raw cry for understanding. The kind of cry you only let out when you've been hurting in silence for far too long.
"All the crazy, all the gypsy
I guess all I'm sayin' is forgive me
If I don't know what I'm doin'
I'm still learnin' to be human…"
And somehow—even through the haze of alcohol—he poured his soul into every word, like his spirit had sobered up for just this moment. One man in the crowd raised his beer silently, then others followed. No cheering. Just quiet respect.
"So far I've been good at burnin' bridges
Strike a match and ride right out of town
Bless your heart for never tryin' to fix me
Or quit me or slow me down…"
He stopped strumming. Only his voice remained. And instead of looking at the audience—or even his parents—he looked upward, to the ceiling. I didn't know what he saw, but I could feel what he was saying.
"All the headlights, all the midnights
Chasin' all that empty, still ain't got it right
All the crazy, all the gypsy
I guess all I'm sayin' is forgive me
If I don't know what I'm doin'
'Cause I'm still learnin' to be human…"
George's fists were clenched now. Mary looked away, her lips trembling. I didn't know exactly what they were feeling. But I knew what I felt—Georgie just wanted to be heard.
"All the highways playin' outlaw
Rollin' outta nowhere with the brakes off
All the crazy and the whiskey
Wakin' up and wonderin' what hit me
Whoa, forgive me, I really don't know what I'm doin'
'Cause I'm still learnin' to be human…"
And in that final verse, Georgie turned his eyes directly to them—George and Mary. His gaze was firm, unshaken. There were no more lyrics after that, but there didn't need to be. His message had already reached them.
I saw the tears rolling down Mary's cheeks. And without even realizing it, mine too.