Night in the Glade

The glade was quiet beneath the canopy of stars, the night humming with crickets and the soft sigh of the wind through leaves. Five tents stood at the edge of the clearing, their walls glowing faintly from lantern-light, then dimming one by one as voices hushed and the camp settled.

Steve

Steve lay on his back, staring up at the dark fabric overhead. Sleep came reluctantly, tugging at him while his mind refused to let go. Elorae—his queen, his guiding star—was gone, and yet her presence filled him more completely than air. He pictured her face, radiant, untouchable, and the shame of his own unworthiness pressed down on him like a stone. He was a worm beside her, less than a worm, and yet she allowed him to exist in her orbit. That was grace beyond reason.

If she returned, he promised himself, he would be ready. He would serve her more fully, more humbly. Even if she never looked his way again, it would be enough simply to breathe the air she had breathed. His eyes fluttered closed, tears dampening the corner of his pillow. He fell asleep whispering her name.

Madison and Aynsley

In another tent, giggles slipped between hushed whispers. Madison and Aynsley lay side by side in their sleeping bags, hair tangled from the day's heat, secrets pressing against their lips.

"Can you believe Isla Cunningham? With that Raj guy of all people?" Aynsley whispered, stifling laughter.

Madison rolled her eyes. "It's insane. But also… kind of not. He's Joey’s friend, after all. There's just something about them. They're not hot-hot, not like Joey, but still. It's like they've absorbed a little bit of his magic. Like osmosis or whatever."

Aynsley nodded vigorously, eyes shining in the dark. "You're right. You're always right. That must be it. Joey makes the guys around him better. Now that you point it out, I can totally see why Isla would go for Raj."

"And Taylor Vasquez with that little guy, Nick?" Madison continued. "That's even crazier. She's only ever dated jocks. But she probably sees what we see. Joey rubs off on them."

Aynsley's grin widened. "Exactly. All us girls are crazy about Joey. How can we not be? He's so... you know... amazing! But I think some of that must spill onto his friends too. Like, just being near him changes things."

Madison smirked. "Yeah. A guy like Joey is the best possible thing a girl could have. They're lucky they found someone kind of like Joey."

"Totally," Aynsley breathed, her voice reverent. "You always see things before I do. I should've asked you about Taylor and Isla first thing rather than gossiping. It makes so much more sense now."

Madison reached out and squeezed her hand. "We all have our stupid moments. I wouldn't have figured any of this out without Joey. I'm far too dumb without him. But I'm glad I can help. We're on the same side, you know."

Aynsley's face softened, relief washing over her. "Yeah, I know. And we are. I'll always back you up, Madison. Always. You're wiser than me. You're smarter. If you say Joey's the best thing for us, then he is. And I'm glad he is. I can't imagine my life without him."

They giggled softly, curling closer in their sleeping bags. Joey's name hung between them like a spell, a shared dream that drew them tighter together.

Donna and Juniper

Donna's tent was quiet except for the sound of fabric rustling as Juniper shifted on her sleeping bag. She looked across the small space at her mother, the lantern glow catching the strands of Donna's hair.

"What do you think's going to happen to us? Things are so different now, and with Joey gone, I'm not sure how to feel." Juniper asked softly, a rare moment of vulnerability with her mother. "Like, I know I'm supposed to go back to school, but even if Joey wasn't magicked away somewhere, I'm no sure how I could stand being away from him for so long. What should I do?"

Donna exhaled slowly. "I don't know. But I'll tell you something… when Joey and I were at the hotel Saturday morning, Serena thought he was my husband."

Juniper blinked. "Serena? As in Serena, the one here with us?"

"The very same. And I didn't correct her.” Donna's smile was faint, wistful. "The idea—it stuck. It's become a dream of mine, to live that way. To have it be true."

Juniper hugged her knees to her chest. "I love Dad, Mom. I really do. But if it came down to it—if I had to choose between him and Joey—I don't think it would even be a choice."

Donna's eyes softened, but her voice dropped to a low, troubled tone. "Your father… Hank… he's out of the picture right now. I know I need to deal with him eventually. But I don't want to. I don't even know how to."

Juniper’s lips trembled. "Do you think he knows? About us? About how things are now?"

"Maybe," Donna admitted. "I doubt it. But Joey said we're allowed to be together. And he's right. Joey is special, you know that as well as I do. Even if your father doesn't understand it, he can't stop it."

Juniper's expression steadied, resolve forming in her chest. "Then I'll follow your lead. Whatever happens, whatever you decide to do about dad, I'll follow you and Joey both."

Donna reached across the tent, squeezing her daughter's hand with a quiet fierceness. "That’s all I needed to hear."

Indira and Serena

Indira's lantern was still glowing faintly, casting soft gold across the inside of her tent. She and Serena sat cross-legged, blankets pooled around their waists. Their voices were hushed, uncertain at first, then slowly warming.

"It's strange," Serena admitted, tracing her finger along a fold in the blanket. "I spent years in the modeling world. It was cutthroat. Every day, men wanted to use me, bend me into whatever fantasy they had. I swore no one would ever control me again. But Joey…" She shook her head, lips curving with disbelief. "For him, I want to give everything. Even things I swore I never would."

Indira's eyes widened. "That's how I feel too. My family is so traditional—grades, reputation, modesty. My whole life has been about making the right choices. But with Joey… I don't want safe anymore. I don't want sterile. I want what he wants."

Serena tilted her head, studying her. "You and me, we couldn't be more different. You're just graduating high school. I'm twenty-four, trying to rebuild a life I thought I'd ruined. But here we are. Same boy. Same... you know... hunger."

Indira blushed but held her gaze. "I thought I would marry someone my parents approved of, settle into a quiet life. Now I dream about things I never thought I would. About being bold. About being wanted."

Serena smiled knowingly. "You were sure bold last night. Joey couldn't take his eyes off you."

Indira flushed deeper. "Not just me. Us. I'd never done that before, but when we kissed, you and me..."

Serena leaned closer, her breath warm against Indira's cheek. "We could do it again, you know, for practice. Joey liked it. It might make him happy."

Indira's lips parted, trembling. "Yes. For him."

Their mouths met, tentative at first, then lingering, the kiss deepening as they drew closer. Their hands found each other, fingers threading as their lips moved softly, slowly. Both of them thought of Joey—his gaze, his approval, the way his presence had bound them together.

When they pulled back, breathless, Serena brushed her thumb over Indira's knuckles. "Goodnight," she whispered, her voice low and tinged with promise.

"Goodnight," Indira replied, her lips still tingling.

They lay down, turning toward each other, the warmth of their kiss still in the air. And though their eyes closed, their minds stayed fixed on the same thought: Joey.

Eliza and Bianca

Eliza tugged at the hem of her red babydoll, cheeks hot with embarrassment. "Seriously - Who wears lace and a thong in the woods?"

Bianca snorted from across the tent, already tucked into her sleeping bag. "You, apparently. Because he told you to. And you'll do it."

Eliza glared, though exhaustion dulled her edge. "I mean... Joey gave it to me, so of course I'll wear it. It's just... I'm sure he didn't have in mind that I'd be sleeping out here tonight. I wonder if I should talk to him when he gets back about situations like this." She flopped back onto her sleeping bag, the lace cups shifting against her breasts. "If it pleases him, I'll do it. But that doesn’t make it practical."

Bianca smirked. "Practical? You think Joey cares about practical? He's eighteen years old. Of course he wants you tottering through the woods like a runway model!"

Eliza threw a pillow at her. "Shut up."

Bianca laughed, catching it against her chest. "Look, you worship him. I get it. But me? I don't need to bow and scrape. I just know how to push his buttons. And trust me, he loves it."

Eliza shot her a sideways look, lips quirking. "And you think that makes you better?"

"No," Bianca said, stretching out smugly. "Just smarter."

Eliza laughed despite herself, rolling onto her side. "I can't believe I'm sharing a tent with you."

"Oh, you love it," Bianca teased. "You need someone to keep you from taking yourself so seriously."

Eliza smiled reluctantly, tugging the blanket higher. "Maybe you're right. But tomorrow, when I'm hobbling through the mud in stilettos, I don't need you making jokes."

Bianca grinned. "Fine. I've got your back, I hope you know that. We're on the same side," then, "even if you are the most ridiculous of all the girls."

Their laughter softened into quiet giggles, the tension between submission and teasing still sharp but oddly companionable. Sleep came slowly, both women turning over the same thought: Joey, and how differently—but how completely—they wanted him.

By the time all voices faded, the glade was utterly silent again, four tents holding five conversations, five different forms of love, longing, and devotion—all orbiting around the same absent boy.