The next time Jerome and Georgy met, it was at The Velvet Mirage, Jerome's home turf. Georgy, wearing his usual jeans and a slightly wrinkled button-up, stood awkwardly near the entrance, trying to figure out how this world of glittering lights and pounding bass could possibly feel like home to anyone. Jerome spotted him immediately and strutted over, arms wide, skin shimmering under the club's neon lights.
"Georgy, my dear!" Jerome beamed, his teeth catching the light like polished pearls. "Welcome to the Glow Academy."
Georgy frowned. "Glow Academy?"
Jerome smirked, slinging an arm around Georgy's shoulders and guiding him through the club. "You said you wanted to get out of your comfort zone, right? Well, consider me your professor in the art of fabulousness. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be a glowing, oiled-up legend. Trust me, baby, it's a lifestyle."
Georgy wasn't sure if he'd actually agreed to this, but Jerome's energy was infectious. Before he knew it, he was sitting at a small table in the back of the club while Jerome set down a duffel bag with a dramatic flourish.
"Step one," Jerome announced, unzipping the bag to reveal an array of brightly colored bottles. "Skincare. If you don't take care of what you're working with, how are you supposed to shine? This is coconut oil. Organic, cold-pressed, and blessed by the gods themselves. This is the foundation of your glow."
Georgy stared at the bottle Jerome handed him. "I don't think I've ever used coconut oil before."
Jerome gasped, clutching his chest as if Georgy had just confessed to a crime. "Never? Oh, sweetie, you've been living in the shadows. But don't worry. Professor Jerome is here to enlighten you."
With that, Jerome unscrewed a bottle, poured a small amount of oil into his hands, and began demonstrating how to apply it. "You don't just slather it on like you're buttering toast. No, you massage it into your skin like you're a priceless artifact being polished for display. Feel the glow, Georgy. Be the glow."
Georgy hesitantly mimicked Jerome's movements, rubbing the oil onto his arms. "It smells nice, at least."
"Nice?" Jerome scoffed. "Honey, it smells like confidence and a good credit score. Keep going."
Once Georgy was sufficiently moisturized, Jerome moved on to step two. "Now that we've got the base, it's time for the mindset. The glow isn't just about how you look—it's about how you carry yourself. Confidence, Georgy. Walk like you own the room, even if all you own is student debt."
Jerome stood and demonstrated his signature strut, hips swaying, head held high, every step deliberate. "This is how you let people know you're a star."
Georgy stood awkwardly and tried to imitate him. His movements were stiff, his shoulders hunched. Jerome sighed and placed his hands on Georgy's shoulders. "Loosen up, darling. Shoulders back, chin up, like there's a string pulling you straight to the heavens. Now walk."
Georgy tried again, and though he wasn't exactly runway material, there was a slight improvement. Jerome clapped. "There it is! Baby steps, Georgy. Baby steps."
By the end of the night, Georgy had learned the basics of glowing, though he still felt far from legendary. Jerome, however, was optimistic. "You've got potential, Georgy. You just need to believe it. And don't forget to moisturize daily. That's non-negotiable."
As Georgy walked home, his skin shimmering faintly under the streetlights, he couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous the evening had been. And yet, a small part of him felt… different. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to this glow thing after all.