waking up as george shelley // [ slow updates ]

Chapter Two - ❝George... or Georgette?❞

{{ Georgette’s POV }}

I eyed the food in front of me nervously, as if there was some possibility that it was poisoned. Realistically speaking, it probably wasn’t. This was probably just a normal, average plate of eggs. But, who was I to say that it wasn’t? I mean, heck, I’d just freakin’ performed a spell from an ancient diary written by my great-great grandmother and switched into the body of a world-famous… celebrity? What was this George guy again? He looked like an actor. Oh god, I hope he wasn’t an actor. Drama was my worse subject, since it involved... y’know... actually talking to people, having people look at me and notice me. It was awful, this feeling of people looking at me, me being in the spotlight.. I turned into a withering, mumbling mess.

“George?” A voice asked. I looked up to see a boy coming down the stairs, pulling a shirt over his head. I blushed, looking down, fiddling with my fork. How was I supposed to respond to this? Who was this guy that lived with me.. well.. I mean, it wasn’t me. It was him. This body that I was invading. Maybe he was.. a gay boyfriend? A fellow actor? A sibling? A friend? The possibilities were endless.

“Uh.” I grunted. “H-Hi.” I kept looking down at the ground, my eyes darting from side-to-side, nervous with anticipation.

I heard the creak of footsteps and the moan of the chair as he sat on it. “George?” He asked again, his voice curious. “Are you okay?” I gave him a quick glance before looking back at my plate, running my hand over the silverware. I placed the fork back down and folded my hands before me on the table. “I’m fine.” I say, my voice coming out as a croak. “F-fine, I’m just not hungry. That’s all.” I push my chair back and begin to walk away, my hands shaking.

“Hey, Hey-!” The guy is before me now, and he’s standing in front of me, putting his hand in front of the wall in front of me so that he could block me from leaving. “G, tell me what’s going on. Is this about Jessica? What’d she do this time?” He sighs, giving me a sympathetic smile. I raise my eyebrows, trying to think of something to say, but my brain, being my brain, turns into fried mush. I can’t even form a sentence. “I.. I..” I fumble with my words, my face turning ashen.

“George?” This time he seems genuinely concerned. And I do the only thing I know how to do, I leave, trying to be as quiet as I can be as I slip underneath his arm, ducking my head. “George!” He calls again, but I ignore him and continue walking outside. I’m shaking, and my breath is coming out in uneven intervals.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It was obviously the coffee speaking. I had one a couple of days of ago, so… maybe the caffeine and sugar had gotten to my head. What on earth had I done..? This spell wasn’t supposed to work. It was just supposed to be a story. A good one at that, an interesting one to tell people at parties. Not that I’d ever been to any since Year Two.

I was sitting on the lawn in mine – or more like his pyjama’s running my hands through my hair, accidentally, at least I thought it was accidentally pulling hair out of his head. I gasped, looking at the pieces curly brown hair in my hand. I let out a big sigh, closing my eyes and trying to stop the tears from coming.. but they did. There I was, in my pyjamas, crying and pulling my hair out of my head. And that was precisely the moment the paparazzi found me.

{{ George’s POV }}

As soon as George’s parents left – Jeez, it was so weird that me and this random girl had the same name, I packed a bag of all the things that I’d need for the day. Realistically, that was all I needed, right? A day and then I’d be rid of this weird body and back into my normal one. I’d be able to hang out with the guys again and I’d be with Jessica and everything would just be.. perfect.