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3rd POV
After George Strait's 'Rodeo 1989' concert wrapped up in Houston, Georgie and the team from Luminous were invited to the after-party.
Well, everyone was invited—but Georgie didn't go.
Why?
Simple. His parents didn't approve. And let's be honest—they didn't trust the party. Not even a little.
Georgie had a track record, and his parents remembered. Sure, they believed he'd changed… but this was a 'musicians' after-party'. Held on a beach. They weren't taking chances.
So, yeah—Georgie and the entire Cooper family went straight home.
Honestly? Georgie didn't even want to go. In his past life, he wasn't some 'unlucky' man. He'd been to his share of parties, woken up next to celebrities, found things in his bed that society would banish you for. He'd lived that life already.
So here they were. The Cooper residence. Specifically, the garage of the Cooper residence, where Sheldon and Georgie were busy clearing space for their own version of a party—a Dungeons & Dragons night.
"You are really weird," Connie muttered, watching her grandsons tidy up the clutter. "Why aren't you at the after-party, Georgie? Don't you wanna let loose like the 'old days'?" she said with sarcasm.
Without looking up, Georgie replied, "Why? So I can get wasted again? Nah. I'm better off here, with family and friends. Shelly, we need more room—can we move your train set?"
Sheldon sighed, dramatically, but gave a reluctant nod. "Huff… Fine. I'll make the sacrifice. For one legendary night."
Georgie nodded, already shifting Sheldon's things. "Alright, if we move this table, we'll have enough space for a full party."
"You're trading a real party… for this?" Connie held up a cardboard box with a dragon on it. "I thought you'd sneak off like a rebel and crash the after-party! Not sit here playing with toys!"
Both boys gasped, deeply offended.
"You take that back!" Georgie pointed at her.
"Memaw, I love you," Sheldon added gravely, "but you must apologize for that statement."
Connie blinked, a little startled by their reactions. "Okay, okay! But seriously—who would rather play an imagination dragon game when they could be partying with beautiful women and handsome men on the beach?"
Georgie and Sheldon exchanged a look, then let out simultaneous, exaggerated sighs. Sheldon's face shifted into a solemn expression of pity, while Georgie grabbed a chair and set it down in front of Connie before sitting, arms crossed.
"Memaw," he said sternly.
Connie raised an eyebrow. She suddenly wasn't so sure where this was going.
"You called it… an imagination dragon game…." He paused and locked eyes with her. "This isn't a game, Memaw."
Sheldon nodded firmly and gravely, "It's a journey. A quest. An adventure. Full of sweat and blood."
Connie glanced between the two boys, clearly baffled. They were dead serious. Still, she couldn't believe Georgie was willingly missing the party of the year just to sit in this dusty garage.
"A quest? In a garage? That's not worth skipping a party for!"
Georgie stood and faced her with a deep frown, "It's not just a game, It's about choosing what matters to you. And this… this matters to me."
Connie snorted. She wasn't saying family time wasn't important—but come on! The after-party was a once-in-a-lifetime celebration. Georgie had just delivered a goddamn amazing performance!
He caught the snort and gave a faint smile. "That's not what I want, Memaw. This is-."
His sentence was cut off when he noticed Sheldon trying—and failing—to lift the table on his own. "What are you doing, Shelly? Just ask for help!"
Connie looked at Georgie again. He was serious. And stubborn. She let out a heavy sigh.
"So you'd rather sit here in this damn garage, playing with children, than go out, celebrate, and live a little?"
Georgie helped Sheldon shift the table, then looked back at her.
"Yes."
Just that. No justification. No regret.
Connie exhaled hard, her gaze softening as she looked at him. Then she shook her head and muttered, "Alright. Suit yourself."
He really was a mystery, this boy. One moment, astonishingly mature. The next, oddly childish. Connie wasn't alone in her confusion—George Sr. and Mary often looked at him the same way. Was this just a teenage phase, or was Georgie just walking in his own path, no matter what the world thought of him?
As Connie turned to leave, Sheldon stepped forward, his eyes sparkling.
"Brother," he asked. "Which lore are we playing tonight?"
"Lore?" Connie echoed, baffled. She paused again, watching them—maybe out of curiosity. Maybe for amusement.
Georgie's smile widened into something wild. "Ha! Tighten the sheets, hoist your flag! You, my friend—you're going to be a pirate!" His laughter erupted, unrestrained and unnerving, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Sheldon and Connie both shivered. Goosebumps rose on their arms.
They didn't know why… but Sheldon, the one about to embark on this "quest," felt a strange blend of terror and excitement.
Georgie kept laughing, but it wasn't the same as before.
"GYEHAHAHAHA!"
They watched him, stunned, until the laughter died. A wicked grin still played on his lips, giving him the look of a madman—an outlaw.
He stomped his foot on the garage floor with a loud THUMP!
"YO HO!." His chant echoed, slow and haunting, curling around their nerves.
"All hands!" Georgie raised his right arm and fixed Sheldon with a steely gaze. "Hoist The Colours High!"
They involuntarily stepped back, Georgie's words stirring a strange blend of fear and exhilaration.
"HEAVE HO!"
Georgie jumped onto a chair, "THIEVES AND BEGGARS!" arms spread wide like a pirate captain rallying his crew.
"NEVER SHALL WE DIE!"
His laughter, low and manic, reverberated off the walls. Sheldon and Connie swallowed hard—watching him, the mad outlaw, rallying them to rebellion.
"You!" Georgie pointed suddenly at Sheldon, making him flinch. "Set sail! The winds are calling, the sirens are singing—onward to our adventure!"
Sheldon, caught in the moment, raised his hand.
"Aye!" he cried out.
"GYEHAHAHAHA!" Georgie roared. "Brace up the yards, you cack-handed apes!"
His voice filled the garage like a cannon blast. Footsteps echoed from the hallway as Mary's voice rang out behind the door:
"What is going on in there?!"
But Sheldon and Connie didn't seem to hear her. Their eyes were fixed on Georgie, who stood tall on his makeshift throne.
Veronica and Missy appeared behind Mary, drawn by the noise. Their eyes widened—especially Missy's, which sparkled.
"DYING IS THE DAY WORTH LIVING FOR!!!" Georgie screamed, spinning to face his audience.
"GYEHAHAHAHA!!!"
His voice echoed like a spell. Sheldon and Connie, still caught in Georgie's illusion, raised their hands together.
"AYE!!!"
Mary stood there, confused and speechless—watching Connie of all people join in with Sheldon like she was a kid herself.
"What is going on here?!"
Veronica leaned toward Missy and whispered, "Do you know what's happening?"
Missy shook her head, eyes wide and glowing.
"I don't know… but it looks fun!"
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3rd POV
The waves rolled in, soft and steady beneath the night sky, brushing against smooth sand where rows of tiki torches flickered in the warm breeze. Music drifted lazily from the speakers—an acoustic version of George Strait's "Beyond the Blue Neon"—blending with the distant sound of laughter and clinking glasses.
The after-party shimmered golden on the beach: long tables draped in linen, a driftwood bar serving endless drinks, and lanterns swaying like fireflies above the crowd. It looked like the perfect night.
Everyone was celebrating. Laughter flowed as freely as the champagne—everyone, except Kayla.
She stood near the shoreline, eyes fixed on the dark horizon, a weight hanging heavy on her face.
She knew Georgie wasn't coming.
And worse—she knew it was her fault.
"Hey."
A soft voice from behind broke her thoughts. Miss Fenley. "Why are you out here all alone?"
Kayla tensed as Miss Fenley approached, but didn't move away.
"Relax," Fenley added, "I'm not mad."
But to Kayla, the smile on her face wasn't warm. It was cold—cold like the sea breeze now crawling up her spine.
Still, Kayla didn't run. She allowed Fenley to sit beside her—though, really, even if she hadn't allowed Fenley to sit beside her, Fenley would've sat there anyway.
Kayla turned toward the distant glow of the party.
"...This party sucks without Georgie," she muttered into the wind.
Fenley snorted. "Really? Or are you just saying that because you feel guilty?"
Kayla shot her a sharp look. "Don't pretend to be a saint." Her lips curled into a mocking smirk. "You think I don't know you slept with him? How naive do you think I am?"
Fenley blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She met Kayla's stare, calm but firm. "I know you wouldn't tell anyone."
Kayla gave a quiet, bitter laugh. "You think I'm that kind of person?" she said, her eyes still cold and distant.
"I don't like the way you're looking at me right now," Fenley said evenly. "If you've got something to say, just say it."
Kayla's smirk deepened, sharp as a blade. "Do you honestly think Georgie's going to choose you? Do you really think he'll be with you for good? He's just using your body."
Her voice was low and deliberate, like a nail driven straight into Fenley's heart.
But why? Why say it like that?
Kayla waited for Fenley to explode—to slap her, yell, or start a fight. She was ready for it. She wanted it.
But it never came.
Instead, Fenley remained still, disturbingly composed.
Then she spoke.
"I know," she said quietly. "I'm prepared for that."
Her voice didn't shake. Her tone was steady. Kayla blinked, staring at her closely—from her brow to the corners of her mouth.
She's serious, Kayla thought.
Fenley folded her arms, hugging herself against the sea wind.
"...As long as Georgie still wants me," she said softly, "I'm happy with that."
Kayla's eyes widened. "You're sick." she whispered—so softly, it was lost in the crash of the waves.
Fenley just smiled, still gazing at the ocean.
"I don't care. I just… keep falling for him."
Kayla stared. "Doesn't it hurt? Seeing him with Veronica?"
Fenley didn't answer. She closed her eyes.
"It's okay," she finally said, letting the wind touch her face. "Georgie's still young."
That made Kayla shiver. Even if Fenley looked calm, her words… her words sounded like something out of a tragedy. Like the kind of crazy love they warned you about in movies.
Kayla swallowed.
"Wh–what will you do if Georgie stops wanting you?"
Fenley let out a small chuckle.
"You think I'm one of those crazywomen? Please. No. I'll get married one day. I mean, what am I, 35? I'm still young."
Kayla let out a slow breath. She hadn't judged Georgie for sleeping with Fenley. She hadn't stopped it, or told anyone. Georgie could do whatever he wanted—Kayla supported him.
But if this woman turned out to be totally insane, she might need to warn him.
"Thank God you're normal…" Kayla said, though even she wasn't sure if she meant it.
Fenley gave a small chuckle and looking at Kayla from her corner eyes.
Fenley didn't say another word, and the two of them drifted into a quiet, peaceful silence—until someone called out her name.
"Fenley!" it's Rosie.
She approached, but paused when she noticed Kayla sitting beside her.
"Oooh, are you two having a little moment here?" Rosie teased with a playful grin. "Girls' talk?"
Fenley stood and gave Kayla's shoulder a light pat, "Don't blame yourself for Georgie not being here," she said. "I bet he's off having fun with his family right now."
Kayla scoffed, "Yeah, right. I bet he's sulking on a couch, furious at his parents for not letting him come."
Fenley burst out laughing, "Hah! Then you clearly don't know Georgie as well as you think."
She walked off toward Rosie, who had been watching the two girls carefully. But as Fenley passed, Rosie's grin faded—the warmth disappeared. Fenley's face turned cold again.
"Bitch." Fenley muttered under her breath as she passed. Rosie chuckled awkwardly, pretending not to hear. But she knew—Fenley wasn't talking about her.
Rosie followed her into the crowd where people were still laughing, drinking, and dancing.
"Where's George S.?" someone asked aloud, and others began to echo the same question.
No one had seen George Strait all night. But then again, this was an after-party for the crew, not just the headliner. It was about the people who made the concert happen—not just the man on the stage.
And yet… somehow, they had all forgotten him.
Fenley and Rosie shared a look. It seemed they were thinking the same thing.
"I bet he's at Georgie's house," James whispered to Edo and Alex nearby.
Edo nodded. He remembered George S. had dropped off his son at the Cooper residence earlier—to hang out with Georgie.
Alex laughed quietly. Fenley and Rosie, who overheard, seemed to agree.
Meanwhile, at the Cooper residence—specifically, in the garage—George S. stared across the table at George Cooper Sr. with fire in his eyes.
Missy looked nervously at Veronica, who offered a tiny, amused smile.
Connie pointed an accusing finger at Mary. "You! Why didn't you heal me? I died because of you!"
"I'm sorry for choosing my own son over you!" Mary fired back without hesitation.
"Mom! You have to think strategically in this campaign! Not just emotionally!" Sheldon groaned, rubbing his forehead.
George S. roared across the table. "You fool! You always roll low!"
"That's not my fault! It's the damn dice, you idiot!" George Sr. snapped, glaring at his unlucky D20.
Georgie exhaled deeply and turned to Billy beside him.
Billy caught the signal and bellowed, "SILENCE!!"
Everyone froze, their attention snapping to the Dungeon Master and his right-hand man.
"Good job, Billy," Georgie said, patting his shoulder. "Now—don't blame your teammates. Don't blame the dice. Don't blame some stupid chicken! You're a team. Enjoy the campaign. Make your choices count."
The garage went still. Everyone stared at Georgie, then down at his dice. The sound of swallowing echoed around the table.
"Alright," Georgie continued. "You all need to calm down."
He raised his dice and, in full view of everyone, rolled it across the table—just to show there was no cheating.
The die spun, clattered, and fell.
Georgie smirked, eyes glinting at the result.