Epilogue

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"Oh my god! You look like a fucking angel!" Brendon squealed.

He placed a hand over his heart and sighed as he stared at his best friend. Patrick glanced nervously at himself in the mirror. He didn't feel too good.

"I'm going to be sick." Patrick whined.

Getting sick would be the worst thing that could happen right now. Especially considering he was wearing all white.

White button up. White pants. White bowtie. White vest. White jacket. And of course a pair of white Prada shoes. The only non white thing he was wearing was the blue watch Ryan gave him last night.

"Here's something old, borrowed and blue." Ryan told him when he handed over that watch. "Yes, that means I want it back."

"What about my something new?" Patrick had asked.

"Three out of four ain't bad..."

Patrick smiled at the memory. He wasn't even allowed to see Pete yesterday. Because apparently it was bad luck to see the groom twenty four hours before the wedding.

"If you get sick and ruin that outfit, I might kill you." Brendon warned.

"Bren, I'm so fucking nervous!"

"Why are you nervous? Are you getting cold feet? Do you want to run? Because I'd run with you-"

"No, Bre-"

"I'd be pissed that I wasted this cute ass outfit. But I would support you no matter what-"

"I don't want to run!"

"Good."

"I-It's just all those people are out there-"

"I told you not to invite your parents and siblings. Your sister still hasn't even accepted the fact that you're gay. Your parents are only here because you're getting a little fame. And your-"

"I'm not talking about my family, Brendon!"

"Oh," he loosened his pink tie. "Then I'm sorry for what I said."

"It's fine. It was all true anyway. But Pete wanted to meet them." He rolled his eyes. "I was referring to all the cameras and reporters."

"Pete asked did you want a private wedding. You said you didn't mind the coverage."

"I didn't think it'd include so many people."

"Well you have nothing to worry about you look great. And I got you something."

"You did?"

Brendon rushed to the other side of the room. He lifted a box up from the floor and ran it back over to Patrick.

"Open it!"

"Is this something else with you're face on it?"

"Not this time." He smiled.

Patrick lifted the lid off of the box and gasped. Gently, he picked up the white fedora and white rimmed glasses.

"Holy smokes! I was so worried I was going to have to wear those damn contacts. And you know I always worry about my hair. Thank you! Thank you!" He hugged him.

"It's your something new!"

"I love it!" He hugged him.

Patrick looked at himself in the mirror again. This time smiling at his reflection. He was feeling more confident now.

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