"She's fine," George said finally, poking at his food with his fork. "Seems to have made a new friend on set. Always in a good mood." He tried to keep his tone casual, but Pearl's raised eyebrow told him she wasn't buying it.
"Made a new friend, huh?" she echoed, her lips twitching.
George leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze drifting to the window as if the answer might be out there in the city lights. "We haven't really talked. I don't want to overwhelm her. Or worse, draw attention. The set is a circus as it is."
Pearl snorted, setting down her fork. "You stupid boy."
George's head snapped back to her, a startled laugh escaping. "What?"
"What are you waiting for?" she said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "She's not going to sit around waiting for you to make up your mind. One of those set boys will snatch her up before you finish your pie."
She said it with a smirk, light-hearted, but George's mind betrayed him.
Leo.
George had seen him. The way he had approached her between takes, all charming smiles and easy conversation. He had caught the way Lydia had laughed..soft, polite, but it had sent an annoying heat to his chest. Leo was harmless. Probably. But still...
And then there was the other side of it.
She had just come out of a nearly two year relationship. As happy as he was about her break up, George didn't know the details, but the way she carried herself..guarded, careful, he could guess.
Could she even be ready?
He didn't want to be the next guy piling on, making things harder for her. The last thing she needed was Hollywood's golden boy dragging her into his spotlight. But still, the thought of standing back and watching her drift into someone else's orbit made his jaw tighten.
Where would he even start? What would he say after five years of silence?
His fork had stopped moving. The food was still there, untouched now. He was just pushing it around his plate, caught up in his own head.
Pearl noticed.
"Maybe you should call Chris," she said gently, sipping her water. "He can help you. They're close, aren't they?"
George sighed. "Yeah. They are."
Chris Mitchell, Lydia's older brother, George's childhood friend. They didn't talk as much as they used to, but they were still friends. Chris was his only true friend. Sure, he had made friends in LA, but that was after the fame. Chris was like a brother to him, even when he was a simple small town boy with a big dream. If anyone could give him a nudge in the right direction, it was Chris.
Pearl's eyes softened as she looked at him. "If the world knew how lovestruck their golden boy really is, they wouldn't believe it."
He chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. "Good. Let's keep it that way."
Pearl reached over and tapped his hand. "You're not as clever as you think, Georgie. Some things, you can't hide. Not from her. And definitely not from me."
He looked down at their hands, her small, wrinkled one resting over his. Somehow, it made everything feel less overwhelming.
"I just..." George started, then shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to screw this up."
Pearl smiled, patient and wise. "Then don't. Start with 'hello.' You'd be surprised how far that can get you."
George huffed a quiet laugh, the weight on his chest lifting just a little.
After dinner, he sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like it held the answers he didn't have. The room was quiet..too quiet. The kind of silence that made his thoughts loud.
Pearl's words lingered in his mind.
Maybe it's time.
He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding behind the chaos of his schedule, behind the excuses. But where would he even start?
Words had never been his strong suit. On screen, sure. He could deliver any line with conviction, charm, even tears if the role demanded it. But off-screen, with her? That was different.
He thought about the first words he ever wrote to Lydia. A letter. Scrawled in messy handwriting, on a cheap notebook paper when he was eighteen, the night before he left for LA. He had confessed his undying love for her and promised to come back..promised to look for her once he had made something of himself. The letter was supposed to be a grand gesture, something meaningful, but he never sent it.
Just like all the others that came after.
Over the years, he had written dozens of them. Letters that started as innocent ramblings about his day, then slowly became confessions. Of how he had noticed her when he was fifteen, in a way that wasn't just brotherly affection. How that innocent crush had grown, uninvited and relentless, until by eighteen, it was no longer a question of if he loved her, but of if he'd ever stop.
He hadn't.
But life has a way of stepping in... People noticed his fondness for her. He rarely talked to her, but they still noticed.
Grandma Pearl was the first to notice. She was happy for him, but sympathetic because Lydia's family were not simple people. They had money and power...
Chris noticed too, so did Lydia's father.
Her father had been kind to him, always. Offered him odd jobs, meals, and a place at their dinner table when Pearl was working late. But kindness didn't mean blind approval. He'd pulled George aside one evening, just before senior year, his tone firm but not unkind.
"She's going to be something, George," he'd said. "And I need her to stay focused on that. Dating you, good kid as you are, won't get her there."
It wasn't cruelty. It was a father's protection. And George couldn't argue.
Chris, though, had understood. He'd seen through George's bravado, sympathized with the turmoil, and knew that no one can love his sister more.That's why, when George confessed his plan to leave for Los Angeles, Chris had laid down conditions.