A Twist in Fate

F i f t e e n

Music video uploaded above. 

Maxon's POV:

The door to the limo opened, as a guard - dressed in all black with black (shocker) sunglasses stood as immobile as a statue capable of moving – stood behind it. With a nod of my head as thanks, I step inside, lowering my head to escape getting hit and end up sitting next to Nicholas. We were on the way to the altar. To his wedding. To their wedding. To America's and Nicholas's wedding.

I could feel the awkwardness and the tension lingering in the air, so thick, I could carve diamonds out of it. After all, he is marrying the love of my life. But there was nothing I could do about it and so I try to decapitate the stress. After taking a few deep breathes to make sure I don't sound like a whiny 5-year-old kept away from his favourite toy and is throwing a raging tantrum, I said, "Calm down, you look like a ball of nerves," breaking the silence between us. He laughed nervously in response, "You will experience the same thing on your wedding day. I mean ... I know she said yes and all, but I can hardly wait to call her mine," he said shaking his head, grinning so wide, I feared his cheeks would fall with his eyes sparkling. I had never seen him look so happy.

I looked outside for a distraction when I realized my fists were turning a sickly pale white from holding them too tight in rage and my breathing was turning irregular rapidly. There were buzzing crowds – not just reporters, but it seems as if the whole of Italy was present, families, children, elderlies, you name it – swarming the streets at the commotion of the upcoming following events. When I looked closely though, I noticed not everyone's faces shared the joy. Some looked rather unhappy holding posters that spelt Maxerica {A/N: that would be us} in capitals while the rest were cheering with claps resonating through the air.

I let out a long, audible sigh, still exhausted from the plane ride. The plane landed barely four hours ago and somehow I got tangled in this mess. At least I was going to see America ... my dear America. I silently hoped America would understand what she got herself into, and realize how much I truly love her and would ditch Nicholas (I know he is my best friend and he only wants the best for her but she was made for me! She's supposed to be mine) and we both could run away to one of the private islands I owned, get married there, have children and live a life with no stress. But at the end what matters most of all, would be that we would be together. I was almost flung out of my seat when the limo came to an abrupt stop. Reluctantly opening the door, I scramble to my feet. When Nicholas stepped out, the crowd went wild, as screams, claps, hoots, and whistles rang out, congratulating him on his very merry day. Merry indeed, I mumbled under my breath. 

He threw me a questioning look, and I just shrug at him in return. How he heard me in all this uproar was beyond me. I know I'm not much for publicity, but why did he have to get everything?! The familiar setting caught my eye as I started to view my surroundings. This was one of their vacation homes. I remember it having a huge garden – probably about 98 acres. If they decided to hold the altar here, it was definitely America's idea. I smirked at the thought. As Nicholas walked in, the reality collapsed on me, almost taking my breath away. This was the end of the road for me ever having a chance with America – there will never be an us again. 

I looked around to see if America was anywhere but she wasn't. I knew America would've wanted Marlee to be her bridesmaid but my father doesn't know she lives in the palace or is even alive. I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard the clicking of heels against the cobblestone. I looked in the sound's direction to see who it was – Nicoletta. She was wearing a dark green dress; it had an illusion with a sweetheart neckline and capped sleeves. The top was made out of lace and it flared out from the waist, she was holding a small bouquet of white roses.