Forever Night Stand (TheWriteAffair Finalist)

Chapter 1: PRE-OBLIVION

"They belong to someone who played the biggest and the most important part in our lives."

"Our lives..." Agata muttered while scanning through the pages. She drew in a deep breath, "Okay, I'm gonna start with this pink one Mik and you'll read the others, okay?"

"Cool," Mikael agreed.

Agata started reading Brandy's journal.

Dear Journal,

It was the most hideous dress I had ever seen. Vivid shades of red, yellow and blue mimicked Snow White's dress in the animated film. When I tried it on, I was not surprised to see that I resembled to a freaking character having a corset-style lace-up front. All that were missing were red shoes and knee-high socks.......

******

--Brandy's Perpective--

No one past the age of six should wear a dress like this. It's fine for a six-year old girl in some kind of play or a Halloween costume party, but not for a twenty three-year old maid of honor for her brother's wedding. I scanned the dress and think of innocence, beauty, and sweetness. It was all wrong for me.

My brother, Heineken peeked into my room and walked in wearing the most annoying smile ever. "You look good, Brandy. Are you excited for Carl's wedding?" he teased and ruffled my hair.

Ken is seven years older than I am and he believes that the age gap allows him to treat me like a kid. He was married once, for about two weeks. He married long enough to legally be the father of the product of a drunken one-night stand. The mother promptly rode off into a life of heroin and prostitution. Bitch!

However, Scotch, my four-year old nephew, is the most amazing thing in my life. So amazing that I can look past the days of crapped up diapers and green pea mush vomit, and see his adorable face in the middle of a delighted gurgle. Speaking of baby vomit, I eyed the Snow White inspired dress once more, and slumped in an armchair. Maybe I'd "accidentally" set it on fire during the dress rehearsal.

Carlsberg peeped in and grinned, "How's it going, Brandy? I actually didn't have to order it made. Apparently, some other brides tend to be afraid of being out-prettied at their own weddings. This means that there are a few more such dresses in the wedding boutique, stored in case there's any kind of accident with this one."

"Why, Carl why," I groaned. "This is overkill! This is for ugly brides with hot friends. Can your Italian bride not think of a better theme?"

"I find it cute and amusing. Why not? Well, it's actually because Ken doesn't want you hooking up with Mia's cousin's sister-in-law's best friend's brother or something, and neither do I. The dress is perfect for hiding all your curves and killing all your momentary self-confidence making you conveniently unlovable by passersby."

"What? What are you talking about?" I sputtered.

Ken dangled a little pink notebook in front of my face.

"That's my journal! You sneak, you freaks!" I gasped and grabbed for it. "How did you find it? I hid it so well," I pouted.

Carl sighed, "You know how much she loves fairy tales. Brandy, this is going to be my wedding. Can you not just be happy for me and bear with that dress for about two hours or even less?" He threw the journal back at me. He smiled. I smirked. We linked arms and laughed. No matter how ugly the dress was, I love my brother. "I have a date with a certain Italian girl that I think is engaged to me. I expect you to be wearing the dress on big day."

"Wait, have you visited Dad's grave yet?" I asked.

"Yeah, of course. I asked for his blessing," Carl said.