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Mr. Almost by Meghan Trainor

Starz Unveiled

Sean and Rosie are getting hitched!

Well, ladies and gentlemen, today is the day. The biggest wedding of the year is finally here.

The only daughter of Michael Mulligan (4Clovers manager and part-owner of Sham Rock Records) and the son of Patrick Morgan (founder of Ireland's largest Entertainment law firm, Morgan & Son) tie the knot.

This extravagant ceremony is set to take place in the spectacular gardens of the Powerscourt Hotel Resort Spa at 2 pm.

The guest list for this special day is jam-packed with A-listers, including Ireland's hottest indie rock band, 4Clover. The band's lead singer, Cian Mulligan (the bride-to-be's brother) will be amongst many of the famous faces in attendance today.

A source close to the band has said, although lead guitarist, and close childhood friend of the family, Cillian O'Shea, has flown back to Dublin for the big day. He will not be attending the wedding ceremony. We at Starz Unveiled are wondering why that is? They have led us to believe that Mr. O'Shea and Mr. Morgan do not see eye to eye. We can't help but wonder if the history between the raven-haired beauty and the broody musician is the cause? What do you think, readers?


Well, today is the day. The day most little girls dream of. The dream dress, the dream venue, and most importantly, the dream man.

You guessed it, it's my wedding day.

But, contrary to what my younger, more naive, ten-year-old self, thought—this is not the dream wedding I once envisioned it to be.

I am not radiating happiness, and that I'm so in love glow everyone blabs on about is non-existent. There are no nervous jitters, no sweaty palms, no anticipation butterflies fluttering around my stomach; just an ever-growing pit of emptiness.

Let's just say, my feet are so far beyond cold, I can no longer feel them.

I'm so numb, I can't even appreciate the fine details, the intricate design, the beautiful decor. I'm an interior designer for Christ's sake, details are my Nutella. I live for that shit. But, no... this nightmare wedding has sucked the joy right out of my happiness, making what was meant to be the happiest day of this girl's life, possibly the worst.

I should be impatiently waiting to walk down the aisle into the arms of my happily ever after. Instead, I am camped out, sulking in an outrageously large marble bathtub, in an overpriced vintage lace, Vera Wang gown. What in the actual fuck did I sign myself up for?

Today, I should marry the man of my dreams, my best friend, the person I want to build the rest of my life with; not the man of my father's dreams. Alas, here we are, mere hours away from my inevitable nuptials and I'm spiralling. When exactly did my love life turned into a business transaction? I'm not quite sure.

All I know is, it's unavoidable. A necessary evil to help protect someone I once—and if I'm being completely honest—still do love.

When I envisioned this day throughout my teenage years—we all do, don't deny it. Was it my soon-to-be husband's face I saw waiting for me at the altar? No, it was not.

Who did I see? The man of my actual dreams, the same man who haunts my subconscious whether I want him to, or not.

Cillian O'Shea, 4Clovers lead guitarist, my best friends' older brother; and my brother Cian's best friend. Cillian was my first kiss, my first love, my first heartbreak. He was my first everything.

I know what you're all thinking. It's a little too late for me to be questioning my life choices, and you're right. But, let's get one thing straight... This was not my choice. I was given an ultimatum; one I could not refuse. I also know most arranged marriages went out of fashion in the eighteen-hundreds or whatever, but when Michael Mulligan wants something, he stops at nothing to get it. Even if that means his daughter will be miserable for the rest of her life.

Here's the thing about Sean, he is boring. Personally, I've had more exciting conversations with myself. The only thing he really has going for him is his looks. Without sounding extremely vain right now, the man is a solid eight. But, is he marriage material? Most definitely not.

So, my guess is, you're all wondering how I ended up with a wannabe knight dressed in shiny aluminium foil, instead of my one and only true Prince Charming?

Well, let's take it back to the beginning and find out.

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