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3rd Person POV
"I'm here!" Connie announced as she stepped into the Cooper household, her voice echoing through the hallway. It wasn't just a general greeting—she was clearly calling for someone specific.
The sound of hurried footsteps approached before Mary appeared in front of her, her face etched with worry and curiosity. "How is he?" she asked, her eyes scanning Connie's face for an answer—until she noticed someone approaching from behind.
"See for yourself. I'm grabbing a beer!" Connie said nonchalantly as she brushed past Mary. Behind her, Georgie stepped into view, a wide smile spread across his face.
"Hey, Mom!" Georgie said warmly, wrapping his arms around Mary, who instinctively pulled him into a tight embrace. He hadn't been home in days—practicing with his band, staying out late for his gigs—and like any mother, Mary had been both worried and quietly praying for his son well being.
"My big boy!" she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead as her hand smoothed over his back and hair.
"Big man, Mom." Georgie corrected with a grin, though he made no move to dodge her affection. "Anyway, I want to introduce you to someone."
Mary, still smiling, turned to look behind him—and her smile froze into a look of stunned disbelief.
"They wanted to stop by," Georgie added, as if this visit were the most casual thing in the world. "Maybe join us for dinner, too."
Standing just behind him were four people, waving politely at Mary: "Mom, this is Mr. George S., Norma S., and George S. Jr."
"…and this is Malcolm," Georgie continued, nodding toward a tall man with a calm demeanor. "Miss Fenley said he'll be managing me for a while."
"Lovely home, Mrs. Cooper," Malcolm said from behind Georgie, surveying the modest but cozy interior.
The sound of his voice snapped Mary from her stunned state. She quickly closed her gaping mouth and muttered, "…Excuse me for a minute."
Grabbing Georgie's wrist, she pulled him toward the kitchen. Georgie sighed—he knew this was coming—and followed obediently.
"What on earth are you thinking?!" Mary hissed once they were alone. She turned sharply toward Connie too, who had wandered in behind them with a smug expression.
"What?" Connie shrugged. "I was just trying to be….hospitable!"
She glanced at Georgie, raising her eyebrows. "But let's be honest—it was your boy who invited them over. If not, I would've just been bluffing!"
"What?!" Georgie exclaimed, shooting Connie a glare. "You said we should invite them, so I thought you were serious!"
Mary groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Unbelievable…".
Still flustered, she returned to the front door where the guests were awkwardly waiting. Forcing a smile, she stepped aside, "I'm so sorry. Please, come in."
As everyone filed into the living room, Norma leaned in and said softly, "We didn't mean to intrude. We didn't know Georgie hadn't told you we were coming."
From behind, Connie appeared again—this time with a few beers in hand. "Beer?" she offered to George S. and Malcolm, then glanced at Norma.
"Thanks!" both men said, accepting the drinks gratefully.
Mary, still trying to process the situation, smiled stiffly. "Oh no, I'm just… surprised." Her eyes narrowed at Connie and Georgie, but neither of them seemed fazed.
Connie dropped into a seat and took a sip from her bottle. "You wouldn't believe what happened out there."
"No! You promised you wouldn't tell her!" Georgie protested, glaring at Connie.
"What?" Mary's ears perked up. "Tell me what happened? Georgie—have you been behaving yourself?"
"A good boy?!" George S. laughed as he took a sip of beer. "Your boy nearly gave me a heart attack!"
Mary's face paled. She turned to Georgie, her eyes sharp, demanding answers.
George S. launched into his version of the story, while Connie added her own exaggerated commentary. Mary listened in stunned silence, her lips twitching with a mix of frustration and embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry," she finally said, forcing a tight smile as she tugged on Georgie's ear. "He promised me he'd stop giving his parents heart attacks too!."
"OW, OW, OW!" Georgie squirmed, trying to break free, but Mary wasn't letting go.
"Well, it's not like we knew Georgie would pull something like that," George S. chuckled. "I think my horse is the one that got a little wild."
"Horses don't do that…" Connie muttered and sipped her beer.
Trying to change the subject, Georgie turned to Junior. "Wanna see the rest of the house?"
Mary, still holding his ear, finally let go and sighed deeply.
Georgie then led Junior through the hallway. Malcolm stood, following them wordlessly.
"Why are you coming too?" Georgie asked, giving Malcolm a suspicious look.
"…I want to see where you live," Malcolm replied cautiously. "As your manager, it's important I understand your environment."
"That's… not exactly a manager's job—but whatever," Georgie muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Where do you sleep?" Junior asked, looking around curiously.
Georgie opened a door. "Here. Usually in this room. But lately, my girlfriend's been staying over, so I've been sleeping on the couch."
As they stepped inside and looking around, Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "…I thought you were into something kinkier," he whispered after spotting a few articles of women's clothing in Georgie's closet.
Junior silently nodded in agreement, eyes wide.
"I'm normal, okay?!" Georgie snapped, his lips twitching with irritation.
Neither Malcolm nor Junior said anything. They just nodded again.
"I'm serious!" Georgie insisted.
"I believe you," Malcolm said with a gentle smile. "I mean, you're a teenage boy… I'm not judging."
"..."
Georgie gave him a deadpan stare and led them out again, showing them Missy and Sheldon's shared room, the backyard, and the garage.
"That's all," he said awkwardly. "Sorry there's nothing fancy. We're still poor. But one day, if I make it big—I wanna build my own studio. And a pool! Missy would love that."
Malcolm watched him intently. Junior, meanwhile, was fascinated by Sheldon's miniature trains.
"Can I play with those?" he asked.
"That's my little brother's," Georgie replied, tousling Junior's hair. "We should probably ask first, right?"
"...Yeah, I guess you're right," Junior mumbled.
Malcolm nodded, pulling out a small notebook and jotting something down.
Georgie was about to ask what he wrote—when a voice interrupted from behind.
"What are you doing here, brother?"
It was Sheldon.
"Brother!!" Missy shouted, running to hug Georgie tightly.
And then—loud and angry—came another voice: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"
It was his dad, George Cooper Sr.
Everyone froze. Malcolm quietly slipped past them to investigate the scene.
Georgie let out a long sigh, hugging Missy back. "….I guess my dad isn't too thrilled about your dad being here," he muttered to Junior.
Junior, still unaware of the family tensions, simply ran ahead to see what all the commotion was about.
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3rd Person POV
Dinner at the Cooper household had never been a peaceful affair. If there was one thing they could count on, it was that someone, somehow, would end up ruining the meal with tension.
George Cooper Sr. cast a cold, lingering stare at George S., the man across the yard who had, in his opinion, overstayed his welcome. His steak was barely ruined as he sliced into it with a little too much force. The family had opted for an outdoor dinner—more of a backyard barbecue, really—because of the number of guests attending.
"Brother," Sheldon piped up suddenly, completely unaware—or unconcerned—about the tension in the air. He approached Georgie, who was manning the grill with a focused but calm demeanor. "Didn't you say you'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?"
"What's Dungeons and Dragons?" Junior asked, eyes wide, as he glanced from Sheldon to Georgie.
George S. family had already been introduced to most of the Coopers, including Veronica, who stood quietly near Georgie, helping with the plates. Sheldon, who rarely warmed up to new people, hadn't been thrilled about their presence—at first. But Junior had surprised him by asking politely if he could play with Sheldon's model trains. That alone had earned him a touch of respect.
Missy, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy having new people around. She saw something in Junior—maybe because he was younger, or maybe because she looking at him like little brother she never had.
"Yeah, what's Dungeons and Dragons?" Billy chimed in, just as lost as Junior.
Meanwhile, the Sparks had joined them entirely by accident. Herschel had been trimming the hedges when he spotted George and Mary setting up the grill in the backyard. He saw the setup, smelled the charcoal, and, with a grin, had offered to bring over a few chickens to share.
But as he approached to call out to George—something caught him off guard. He stopped mid-step. George S. had just walked out of the Cooper house!.
This wasn't just any visit. George S. was at the Coopers'—before a concert. If word got out, the media could spin this into a frenzy. George and Mary knew that, and they quickly welcomed the Sparks to join the dinner as a way to keep things quiet.
It wasn't about showing off. Not for George!. Not even for Mary!.
"It's a tabletop fantasy game," Georgie explained, still tending the grill. He tossed some seasoning onto a sizzling slab of meat. "You can play as any character—any race, any class. Do whatever you want in the story. It's like acting... with dice and a few rule."
"Sorry, Shelly," he added with a glance at his younger brother. "Didn't I say we'd play after the concert?"
Veronica laughed softly beside him and placed a plate near the grill. "You just can't wait to play with your big brother, huh, Sheldon?"
"I am not!" Sheldon's cheeks flushed. "I'm just reminding him of his promise."
"I want to play too!" Junior said, excitedly. "I can buy the game for all of us!" He beamed with pride, already imagining himself as a hero in a fantasy world.
"Sure," Georgie smiled. "After your dad's concert, we'll all play together."
"What about us?!" Missy frowned, grabbing a piece of barbecue from the tray. "You promised to play with me too!"
"You'll play with us, of course," Georgie assured her. "We're all in this together. Dungeon and Dragons, team adventure!"
"What? Why?" Bobby, looking unimpressed, crossed her arms. "Why not a tea party instead?"
"Well, I'm going to play Dungeons and Dragons with Georgie," Veronica said sweetly, glancing at the younger girls with a wink.
"Why?!" Missy and Bobby said in unison, both clearly displeased.
Veronica merely shrugged and accepted a corn cob from Georgie. "Because I just want to spend time with him." She took a bite, moaned happily, and leaned in close to whisper in his ear, "My God, this is amazing. I could die fat with you as my husband."
It wasn't quite a whisper, though. Bobby and Missy heard every word—and they glared at her.
"I'm playing too!" Bobby declared, scowling.
Missy sighed. Resistance was futile. "Fine. Let's all play…."
"…I don't think this is a good idea," Sheldon muttered under his breath, but he didn't dare say it aloud. Not when Bobby was watching.
Junior grinned as he watched the others banter, then turned to Sheldon and Billy to ask more questions about the game, eyes twinkling with curiosity.
While the kids were plotting their imaginary quests, the adults had their own kind of drama.
"So let me get this straight," George Cooper snapped, pointing his fork at George S., "You put my son in danger?"
"George, stop it! You're embarrassing us," Mary scolded, slapping his arm gently.
George Cooper Sr. looked at her, then turned to George S., who was smirking.
"Yeah, George," George S. said smoothly, "Listen to your wife for godsake!."
A firm hand landed on his arm, "Stop it." Norma said softly, but her tone carried the weight of a warning.
Both Georges backed off, for now.
Connie, meanwhile, watched them with a bemused smile and turned to Malcolm. "So, Malcolm... what exactly do you do? As Georgie's manager, I mean."
"I help Georgie," Malcolm said simply.
That was vague, but Connie didn't press. If the boy said he helped, then that was probably enough.
Herschel and Brenda looked overwhelmed, sitting just a few feet away from a famous man eating chicken they'd brought.
"So, Herschel, right?" George S. said, finally acknowledging them. "What do you do?"
"I… I run a tyre shop," Herschel said nervously while Brenda smiled awkwardly.
"Oh, then maybe you can hook me up with a discount," George S. said, chuckling.
"I'll make it free for you!" Herschel said enthusiastically. "Just hand me your keys and I'll get it done!"
"Easy, cowboy," George S. laughed, and Herschel flushed under Brenda's stare.
Trying to shift the focus, Brenda turned to George S.. "I'm sorry, Mr. George, but… why do you want Georgie to be your Opening Star concert?"
Silence. The question hung in the air like smoke from the grill.
Mary narrowed her eyes.
But before she could say anything, George S. waved it off with a laugh, "Why not?!"
Brenda opened her eyes wide, knowing that she had made a misunderstanding, "Oh—I didn't mean to question Georgie talent. I'm just… curious." She said softly and awkwardly.
They all understood what she meant. But it still sounded like she was doubting Georgie.
Herschel smiled nervously for his wife and looking at George Cooper Sr. with apologetic eyes.
Norma smiled softly, gently running her fingers along George S.'s hand, "My husband is like that," she said quietly, her voice filled with quiet pride.
"Even if someone begs him to let Georgie open his concert, he always listens to the music first. He doesn't take chances for ruining his concert—not with his loved audience, not with something that sacred to him. It's not about doubt… it's about respect. For the music. For the moment."
She looked toward the Cooper family with warmth in her eyes, "And he liked it," she added with a small nod.
George S. leaned forward slightly, his eyes drawn to Georgie, who was still surrounded by kids, laughing with ease, "His songs… his writing… they have soul," he said. "He doesn't just sing. He feels. He writes from the heart—and you can hear it when he sings. It's honest. It's real."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he let out a light chuckle.
"I want him to be bigger than he is now. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll be the guest star at his concert too!."
Everyone glanced toward Georgie, who was laughing with the kids, unaware that he had just received one of the highest compliments a legend could give.
"Well," George S. said, standing up and patting his stomach, "I'm going back for more of Georgie's barbecue. That meat's amazing! If he ever wants to quit music, he could be our personal chef!"
"Get the hell out of here!" George C. snorted, throwing him a sharp look—but even through the sarcasm, the pride in his eyes couldn't be missed.