The Wedding

TITLE: The Wedding
AUTHOR: Cyndiana
RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: A Feather in the Blood (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/afeatherintheblood/)
PAIRING: Shhh…It’s a secret until the end!
SYNOPSIS: Someone’s getting married…and somebody’s cynical.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: There's an inside joke as to why this wedding is in Amsterdam, and not Germany. PLEASE don't correct me, there's a reason why. :P
DISCLAIMER: Work of fiction. Not intended as a statement of fact. Not-for-profit.

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Here I sit, by the big fucking swan ice sculpture, knocking back my 5th…6th shot of vodka…

Family and friends ooh and ahh over the happy couple…

Blah.

It’s his 5th marriage…that’s right 5th.

If the 3rd time’s a charm, the 5th must be a fucking joke.

But then again, maybe I’m a tad cynical.

Being divorced myself, not to mention the ex-lover of the groom.

And now his best man.

Well, the “best man” didn’t win this time.

He’s too busy getting shitfaced.

Media are EVERYWHERE.

Fucking joy.

They ask questions, take names, shove mics and cameras in everyone’s faces…

“What’s the story?” “Why the wedding?” “Is it TRUE love?”

Blah.

And they’re just fucking ELATED.

So in love I’m about to stain the tablecloth bile green, and I’m not even drunk yet.

Well, not really drunk.

Yet.

I gaze through bleary eyes as they coo and cuddle and pose for pictures, smiling like fools.

No one’s bothered to ask ME how I feel about all this, and I’m in no mood to answer anyways.

A couple of friends wander by, saying something in shrieking falsetto…I’m too drunk by now to even understand…

I just smile and nod, try not to puke on them, and they seem content enough to leave.

Now, fellow band members are making speeches to the happy couple.

Schneider wishes them a lifetime of love and happiness.

Now I’m REALLY getting queasy.

Olli hopes their marriage is as happy as his has been.

I’m really nauseated now.

Paul says he hopes this is the groom’s LAST marriage.

That’s it…

I have to say my peace…

Before I can, Schneider’s eyes shoot in my direction, clearly daring me to try.

Fuck it…I need to go outside for some air.

I sit on the stoop of the banquet hall.

I light up a smoke and take a good, full puff, savoring it.

The aforementioned groom steps outside, and sits beside me.

“Richard, are you ok?”

“Do I look ok?” “Why can’t you just be happy for me?” “Because it’s fucked up, Till, that’s why. Why are you doing this?” “Because, for the first time in my life, Richard…I am choosing to be honest. With myself, and everyone else.” “At what cost?” “Ah, but the cost of silence is far greater…we both know that.”

 He looks into my eyes a moment, his soft and tender…like they used to be.

He embraces me tightly, pats my back almost comfortingly.

I sigh, and resign my fight for the moment.

He does look happy.

Happier than he’s ever been.

And that wedding band does look handsome glittering on his finger.

Olli pops outside.

“Till, everyone’s looking for you!” “I’ll be right in.” Then, he turns to me. “Richard, are you going to be all right?” “Oh ja. You know me. I roll with the punches.”

 He nods gently, and with one more embrace, and a kiss on my cheek, he goes back into the hall.

I finish my smoke, and prepare to go back inside.

Before I can, Till’s betrothed takes me by the hand and begins to lead me away.

“What…where are we going?” “German tradition…The best man is supposed to steal the bride away and take her to a bar to get plastered. The groom has to find them, and when he does, he has to pay for all they drank. You know that...” “I’m well aware of the tradition, but we’re not in Germany…We’re in Amsterdam.”

 Flake’s eyes shone softly.

“The best taverns in all the world…let’s go!”

DIE ENDE