The aroma of leftover clam chowder and baked casserole filled the Randolph dining room as Georgia, Paul, Ginny, and Austin sat down for dinner. Jenna Deblin's clam chowder had held up spectacularly overnight, and everyone eagerly dug into their plates. That is, everyone except Ginny, whose phone was perched precariously next to her plate, her eyes glued to the screen.
"Ginny," Georgia said sharply, pointing her fork at her daughter, "put that phone away. We're havin' a family dinner, not a screen marathon."
Ginny didn't look up, completely absorbed. "Just a second, Mom. I'm watching something."
"What could possibly be so important it can't wait until after dinner?" Georgia snapped, her Southern drawl thickening with annoyance.
Ginny sighed dramatically and turned the phone toward Georgia. "This."
Georgia squinted at the screen. The video was playing on a Facebook page called Wellsbury Man. The thumbnail alone made her heart sink—a freeze-frame of her standing at the city hall event, pointing furiously at Holt Scotto while he looked smugly amused.
"Is that—" Georgia started, but Ginny interrupted.
"It's the city hall meltdown," Ginny said, her tone far too amused for Georgia's liking. "It's gone viral. Everyone's talking about it. Look at the comments."
"I don't care about the comments," Georgia said, her voice rising. "Put your phone away. Now."
"But Mom—"
"Now, Ginny!" Georgia said firmly, glaring at her daughter. Ginny huffed but finally set the phone down, flipping it face-down on the table.
Paul, clearly trying to defuse the tension, cleared his throat. "Well, at least the clam chowder's good."
"Delicious," Austin added, oblivious to the drama.
Georgia forced a tight smile, her mind already racing. Viral? Everyone's talking about it? She couldn't ignore this, not after dinner.
After the meal, Georgia retreated to the living room with her laptop and pulled up her Facebook account. It didn't take long to find the Wellsbury Man page, where the video was prominently displayed at the top of the feed with the caption: "When Governor Hopefuls Clash: The Georgia vs. Holt Saga!"
Her stomach churned as she hit play.
The video captured the chaos perfectly. There she was, standing up in the middle of the city hall crowd, calling Holt out for sabotaging her car, yelling about crabs on her lawn, and demanding his disqualification. The camera then panned to Holt, who was smugly leaning against the podium, throwing back sarcastic comments like gasoline on a fire.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Georgia muttered, watching herself wave her hands animatedly as Holt smirked. "Do I really look like that when I'm angry?"
The video ended with the police walking Holt offstage, Georgia standing triumphantly with her arms crossed as the audience buzzed with mixed reactions. The comments section below the video was a warzone of opinions.
Before Georgia could dive into the comments, a notification popped up on her screen. It was a text from Joe.
Joe: "Have you seen the Wellsbury Man video? It's everywhere. Even The Viall Files podcast is talking about it. Top 10 Event Meltdowns of All-Time. You're #3, Georgia. Congrats?"
Georgia's mouth fell open. "A podcast? Top 10 meltdowns?" She quickly opened Spotify and searched for The Viall Files. Sure enough, the latest episode was titled: "Top 10 Event Meltdowns of All-Time—Including a City Hall Showdown!"
She hit play, her curiosity overpowering her apprehension.
Nick Viall's voice filled her earbuds. "Coming in at number three, we have the Wellsbury City Hall Incident—a fiery showdown between Georgia Randolph and Holt Scotto that had everything: accusations, sabotage, crabs, and arrests. It's small-town drama at its finest."
The co-host chimed in. "I mean, is it just me, or was Holt kind of asking for it? But also, Georgia was... a lot."
Georgia groaned, sinking into the couch as they played snippets of the video, laughing at her heated accusations and Holt's deadpan comebacks. To her surprise, they didn't take a clear side, instead praising the chaos as "pure, unfiltered entertainment."
After the podcast, Georgia returned to Facebook and finally braved the comments section on the Wellsbury Man post. It was a battlefield of opinions, with locals and even celebrities chiming in.
Leighton Meester: "I'm Team Georgia all the way. Sometimes, you just have to stand up to bullies."
Tanisha Thomas: "Poor Georgia. Girl needs help. Holt's no saint, but that meltdown? Yikes."
Anthony Mackie: "I can't even pick a side. Georgia's got guts, but Holt... man, that guy's got some comedic timing."
Scrolling further, Georgia saw comments from locals arguing back and forth, some defending her actions while others claimed she overreacted.
"Look at this circus," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "Everyone's got somethin' to say."
Paul walked into the living room, noticing the storm cloud on Georgia's face. "You okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Georgia said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Apparently, I'm the third most entertaining meltdown of all time. And everyone on Facebook's a critic."
Paul laughed, sitting beside her. "Well, you were passionate. Nothing wrong with that."
"Tell that to Tanisha Thomas," Georgia grumbled, scrolling back to her comment. "Thinks I need help."
Paul peeked at the screen and chuckled. "At least you've got Leighton Meester in your corner."
Georgia couldn't help but laugh despite herself. "Yeah, I guess. Still, this whole thing's a mess."
"Georgia," Paul said gently, "it's just the internet. People will talk for a few days, and then they'll move on. Don't let it get to you."
Georgia sighed, closing her laptop. "You're right. It's just hard not to care when everyone's got an opinion."
Paul nodded. "But you know what's more important? You stood up for yourself. And for once, Holt got what he deserved."
That brought a smile to Georgia's face. "You're right. And if they think I'm a meltdown queen, so be it. At least I'm a queen."
"That's the spirit," Paul said, pulling her into a side hug.
As the night wore on, Georgia decided to let the comments roll off her back—well, most of them. She couldn't resist liking Leighton Meester's comment before closing her laptop for good. Holt might've made her life hell, but she was Georgia Randolph, and if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was bounce back stronger than ever.
