Sequel to the Wattpad novel The Age of Aquarius
E.J. Thompson, a reclusive author and former journalist, recalls the tales of four teenage criminals as Brooke King, Caleb Wolfe, and Nessa and Johnny Phoenix had exposed a corrupt billionaire for ille...
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While Brooke and Nessa were storming out of the restaurant, Caleb Wolfe spent the entire day preparing Movie Night.
He went to Rocket Video, rented at least two dozen movies, and raced back to the beach house where Caleb worked his magic.
After stacking twenty-four VHS tapes on the plywood table, Caleb opened four bags of popcorn and tossed each of them in the microwave.
Heated kernels explode like gunfire. Golden butter showered in the air. He placed four glass bowls underneath the microwave, opened the fridge, and gathered four bottles of fizzy orange soda.
Glass chandeliers hover stiffly above the ceiling. Books tucked inside wooden shelves sitting near the boxed television set.
The interior is rich with pastel colors. Living room couches sagged like wrinkles. Some were dipped in turquoise; others matched the color of melted butter and cotton candy.
In front of the furniture are a long, glass table and a box television set sitting on a chunk of plywood.
Now, the kitchen is very hard to explain; it is like sleek ivory on the warm sand. Wooden dining room table encircled by desolate chairs.
Despite having various rooms, the massive beach house seemed deserted; neighbors, bikini babes, or stoned surfers often played on the vast seashore but never looked inside the beautiful castle.
All they can do is watch the creamy white foam and salty seawater beat against the sand. The tranquil sound is tainted by melancholy guitar chords.
After spreading out the sugary snacks, Caleb approaches the food cabinet, where his girlfriend Brooke had stored in the food cabinet.
Unfortunately, he couldn't get away from Johnny Phoenix's solemn tune. The nineteen-year-old boy has been locked up in his room, singing "Nutshell" by Alice in Chains for five hours.
Not only did the song drove Caleb insane, but it was ruining his good mood.
"Oh my God," he called aloud. "Johnny, can you please not play that depressing song again?"
Johnny's guitar strumming stop. "Sorry."
Caleb Wolfe positioned the soda bottles on the coffee table. "Are you going to help me set up this Movie Night Party or not?"
A nonchalant Johnny strums his guitar some more. "Maybe later."
"Seriously?" Caleb was thinking as he scurries up the steps.
Opening the door, he witnessed a young man sitting on his black bed, holding his dark brown guitar.
He wears an oil-black flannel shirt, white Puka shells, and acid-washed jeans. Bitter aromas of Old Spice and citrus flew past Johnny's nose.
Punk bands and old action movie posters scatter across the dense gray walls. Tossed clothes soiled the light brown carpet.
From the corner of Caleb's eye is a sleek, black katana resting on top of Johnny's dresser drawer.
