Though he desperately refuses the conformities of modern novel tropes, George acknowledges he's just the same as every book character. A side character that is. Studying his way into writing a hit novel George has to master the ups and downs of his...
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"And I wonder why I tear myself down to be built back up again." False Confidence Noah Kahan
⚠️Mild abusive aggression. Harsh language. Past abuse mention. Smut.⚠️
(If this is a triggering topic for you, you can skip to the first *** It is still understandable from there. Just less background knowledge)
George
"Happy thanksgiving." My mom and stepdad nod along and continue eating their catered lunch. It makes no sense why they spend money on things like this when they could be using it to pay off the mortgage. Or the bills I see stacking up on the counter in a neat pile under a glass diamond.
It drove me crazy as a child, why they weren't organized with money. Always wondering why they would spend it on baseball tickets instead of things I needed for school. And believe me, I tried to help, but when you're a child adults don't take you seriously. No matter how smart I was, I wasn't rewarded for my helpful comments I was more or less smacked. In the end, I've been subconsciously trained to keep my mouth shut while I pick through the peas, and dot my corn, counting the minutes until Dream will be picking me up to go to a drive-in movie with his family. He begged to stay with me, this was the one time I've refused his company all break.
"So, a girlfriend?"
Here we go again, "no, not yet. I'm more focused on my work. My professor is a world-renowned author-"
"Not this again." My stepdad picks up his phone and starts to clock out of the conversation. "That book shit is a dream I thought you lost years ago."
"Trenton," my mother reprimands him although she sounds like she believes him slightly. "You've dated right, honey."
Men, yes. Kissed them. Hugged them. Flirted with them. Had sex with them. I bite my tongue.
"Yeah." Short and sweet, there are fifteen minutes left until the two of them will exit for a drink. I already texted Dream to come get me. "I just haven't found the right one yet."
"Well, it takes time." Mother grins like she's accomplished a magnificent something. "It took me two until I met the love of my life."
"Yeah, and finally got rid of his asshat of a Dad."
There are a lot of things I will let them brush over. My sexuality, my love life, and my career. Any of that is open for interpretation, it doesn't matter, but when it comes to my father, he is where I draw the line.
"Don't," I manage through tight teeth, "don't speak about my father that way."
My stepdad pauses mid-sip of his drink and cuts me a look that could be frightening if I was still young. The holidays at home are always a treat every year. A big wrapped-up bundle of deja vu.
