Her Maid of Honor (gxg)

Jess

My ribs were killing me as we laughed along to the ridiculous song on the radio, and all of the cheesier ones after that. It had been so long since I'd laughed that hard that I had almost completely forgotten what had flipped my mood in the first place; that was, until we rolled up to the bridal shop and reality forced itself back in. This girl beside me was about to marry very my best friend in the world, ultimately turning our dynamic duo into an awkward-as-fuck trio where I played the roll of the unwanted third wheel. Me!

As I glared from the car window into the wrap-around window of the store, it hit me like a ton of bricks that in addition to the aforementioned, I had in fact, actually agreed to be the accomplice to her solidifying that inevitable future, and in an instant, I remembered exactly why it was that I hated her... What in the hell was I thinking?

"You coming?" Her seductive red lips curved up at the corners as she stepped out of the parked vehicle and shut the door behind her, leaving me alone with my own impending thoughts of doom while I stared blankly at the wooden and white leather interior of the driver's door.

She waited patiently by the hood of the car for me to accompany her before venturing onward towards the overly priced, over-the-top, all-round unnecessarily glorified prom dresses that draped the windows awaiting us beyond the crystal clear sheets of glass. I walked steadily behind her, inhaling a rather large breath of oxygen that lingered within the depths of my lungs as we – she – finally made her grand entrance.

Standing there on the other side, I was blinded by the light – or more accurately, the white. Everything from the floor to the curtains was plastered in various shades of white. It had the exact aura of Antarctica meets Ke$ha, and if it wasn't either neon white, off white, eggshell white, or cream, it was all of the above... with glitter. I had just voluntarily walked through the gates of hell, and now, I was about to meet its maker.

"Hi there, how can I help you?" I heard a perky voice question us from somewhere off towards the left.

Mayfield turned immediately to face her with a smile so large, her teeth had officially become a part of the décor matching the dress of the mannequin beside us precisely. I continued to stare ahead, attempting to re-adjust my vision while she was more than happy to explain – in extended detail – the reason behind our visit.

Linda, the sales associate according to the rectangular metal tag that remained pinned to the breast pocket of her blouse, listened attentively to every word that made its way between the bride-to-be's glistening red lips – which I now realized were the only things within the entire parameter that were able to hold my attention for longer than a 2 second timeframe, seemingly blinding me in a whole other sense of the word.

Drawing my attention back to the interior as soon as the previous realization had processed, I began wandering towards one of the several – white – leather sofas that remained off to the right corner of the seemingly never-ending room. Nearing the back of the couch, I was able to make out a presence slouching down upon the surface of it, half-empty champagne glass in one hand, and a glittering stretch of fabric in the other. The presence appeared to be examining it thoroughly, but upon closer inspection, I realized that he – as I could now make out – was moreso confused by the item rather than intrigued. In an instant, I understood him entirely.

Casually making my way around to the front, the man looked up at me with hazy eyes, partially drunk, and partially in shock to see another human being – and a woman at that – not draped from head to toe in one of the million shades of white that engulfed us.