Sunset sérénade: A Love story in Florida

Part VII: The Long Night III

The evening had begun to wind down. Chris, now surrounded by his old friends and Emma, had found some measure of calm. They were seated at a large round table, drinks flowing, laughter echoing through the room. Emma, as always, was the perfect blend of charm and wit, effortlessly engaging with everyone. Chris watched her, pride swelling in his chest. She seemed to fit in so naturally, even with the people from his past.

But the thorn in Chris's side had a name—Georgie. Seated a few spots away, Georgie had been needling him all night, taking every opportunity to undermine him. The two had a history, a complicated mix of rivalry and tension that stretched back years. Georgie had always been envious of Chris's success, both professionally and personally. Now, it seemed, he was determined to remind everyone of Chris's more reckless, troubled days.

Leaning back in his chair with a sly smirk, Georgie glanced around the table and then fixed his eyes on Emma. "Emma, you should've seen Chris back in the day. He wasn't just the king of the party scene—he was the party. Every weekend, without fail, drinks in hand, girls in tow, always making an entrance. They used to call him the 'King of the City'—untouchable, unstoppable. Isn't that right, Chris?"

Chris's jaw tightened, his hand gripping the edge of the table. He forced a smile, refusing to take the bait. "That was a long time ago, Georgie."

Georgie chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, come on, don't be modest. I mean, we all remember how wild you were. The drinks, the women... You were the king of chaos, man. But hey, what happened? Did the king fall from his throne? Or did you just get tired of the crown?"

The others at the table shifted uncomfortably, sensing the rising tension. Chris's friends threw awkward glances at each other, clearly not wanting to get involved. Emma, meanwhile, watched the exchange carefully, her calm demeanor unwavering.

"I've moved on, Georgie," Chris replied, his voice measured but firm. "You should try it sometime."

But Georgie wasn't finished. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he turned to Emma again, leaning forward as though sharing a secret. "Did Chris ever tell you about his golden years, Emma? The days when he'd stumble out of a club at sunrise, barely standing? Or the nights he'd disappear with a different girl on each arm? He was a legend. Hell, he was the prince of the city for sure."

Chris felt the heat rising in his chest. This wasn't just Georgie poking fun anymore—it was a deliberate attempt to humiliate him, to ruin the image he had worked so hard to rebuild.

Emma, cool and composed, finally spoke up. "I'm not interested in who Chris was," she said, her tone steady. "I care about who he is now. And from what I can see, he's doing just fine."

Georgie's smirk faltered, but he quickly recovered, laughing loudly as though it were all a joke. "Oh, of course, of course. I'm just saying, old habits die hard. Isn't that right, Chris? The king always finds a way back to his throne."

Chris's patience snapped. He leaned forward, his voice low but dangerous. "Enough, Georgie."

Georgie leaned back, still smirking, but there was a glint in his eyes that showed he wasn't backing down. "Come on, man. You used to be the life of the party. What happened? You go soft?"

The others at the table fell silent. The tension was thick in the air, and Chris could feel his pulse quickening. He had promised himself he wouldn't let Georgie get under his skin, but the constant jabs, the snide remarks that he was done.

"Watch your mouth," Chris warned, his voice steady, but his fists clenched at his sides.

Georgie laughed, clearly relishing the reaction he was getting. "Or what? Is the 'King' gonna show his temper? I remember that temper of yours, especially after a few drinks. Maybe you still got it in you."