✓ ❘ 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐌𝐂𝐑. 𝐏!𝐀𝐓𝐃. 𝐅𝐎𝐁. 𝐓Ø𝐏.

My Best Friend's Wedding. (Part 4) (Pete Wentz x Reader)

~Wednesday, 21:00, 61 hours until the wedding~

"You should tell him."

"See, this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you!"

"Technically, you didn't tell me, I figured it out," Patrick pointed out from his seat on your hotel bed, watching you as you removed your make-up in the bathroom.

"Whatever," you waved a hand dismissively in Patrick's direction, "But now that you know, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't constantly try to coax me into telling Pete like (Y/B/F) does. Lord knows I have enough to deal with already," you mumbled.

"(Y/N), you can't just let him marry that fucking awful woman when he'd be way better off being with you instead!"

"He's happy with her. That's what's important. Not how we feel about her."

Patrick collapsed onto the bed and groaned in frustration. "You're unbelievable!"

"So I've been told."

~Thursday, 12:00, 46 hours until the wedding~

"That's perfect. I'll be there at around 6 to add all the trimmings. Okay. Alright, see you then. Thank you so much." You hung up the call with the manager of the restaurant you'd booked for one of the locations for Meagan's bachelorette party and plopped down onto one of the plush chairs.

"All good?" Patrick asked, setting a mojito down in front of you.

"So far," you replied, reaching for your drink and holding it up, "Here's hoping it stays like that."

You clinked glasses with Patrick and took a sip, relishing in the coolness of the liquid.

"How're your plans coming along?" you questioned.

"Great, actually. Everyone really pulled through to make sure it'll be a awesome evening," Patrick gushed excitedly.

"Must be nice," you grumbled, "I had to do everything by myself."

"I'm not surprised. In fact, I'm 99.9% sure that the bridesmaids aren't even real people. They're drones that Meagan had made in a lab for the sole purpose of following her around and cackling like a pack of hyenas."

"That actually makes way too much sense for it not to be true," you chuckled as your phone lit up, signalling that you had just received a text. Scanning over it, you started to rise from your seat. "Gotta go, babe. The t-shirts I ordered are ready."

"You ordered t-shirts?" Patrick asked, awestruck.

"And goodie-bags, and I ordered a limo, and booked VIP tables at the best restaurant in the area as well as two different clubs."

"I'm starting to think that you've been compromised."

"Please," you rolled your eyes, grabbing your purse and stuffing your cell inside, "Can you imagine what would happen if Meagan's bachelorette party isn't 'totes ah-mazing'?"

"I see your point," Patrick nodded, sipping his drink.

"Later, loser."

~Thursday, 18:25, 39 hours and 35 minutes until the wedding~

"Everything looks wonderful, ma'am."

"Thank you, Michael. Let's just hope it's to the bride's liking."

"I'm sure it will be."

"Don't be. You never know with this one," you exhaled, running a hand through your hair.

"So, we have a bridezilla on our hands, hm?" Michael brought two fingers to his lips and whistled, immediately gaining the attention of the waiters scattered around the room. "We have a code 2 tonight, everyone. All hands on deck."