Fragments - Flash Anthology

Sixteen

Bleh. Vodka water tastes about as lame as the name suggests.

Another gulp of burning intoxication as I attempt to shield my sanity from the nearby enablers. Elbow nudges, one-armed sideways hugs, and pats on the back from two dozen men from various corners of my life came and went while I pretend to lose inhibitions.

"You're going to make a great father and husband, Steve."

"Steve! I can't believe -you're- getting married!"

"We should hang out sometime, man. Don't you miss parties like this?"

"It's hell, Steve. Welcome to married life. You're gonna hate it in five years."

That last exchange was interesting. Why -am- I signing away my life to another human? She could destroy me in an instant. It's an insane risk. Will it even last two years?

Bleh. It'll take another ten vodka waters to even get tipsy. It's a good thing they're all too drunk to notice.

***

Would Johann Pachelbel turn in his grave if he knew how much we abuse this song? It's probably his least favorite at this point if he's looking down from Heaven. I can't believe my grandmother's funeral played this song. Maybe she had it played for her wedding, too?

Ah. There she is. Right on time in her vehicle-priced dress. Smile. Not the frog smile from childhood. There we go, this probably looks alright. Gotta give the sponsors a nice face for the albums.

My old folks look a little tired. I wonder if they tried to sleep on their flight? Mom says I should have eaten more so I don't look like a skeleton for the photos today. Oh well, at least this suit helps fill out my frame with layers of pristine cloth. I don't think I've ever owned enough clothing to match half the cost of this tux.

She's here. Don't forget your lines or your smile. Can't have people questioning. This is supposed to be a happy day, after all. Yes. Blah, blah. Death, and so on. It's not like I would bother leaving her. I hope I get to see the kids if she divorces in ten years, at least.

"I do." Don't be weird about the kiss. There, that should work. Just long enough for a nice video clip.

"I'm proud of you, Steven." My grandfather rubbed my back and squeezed my shoulder. "Give it a few years. Probably once the little ones are in high school or college. There's no one else I would rather see inherit my legacy."

I've gotten away with this for twenty-seven years. I suppose I could keep going for another thirty. I'll dance. I'll cry. I'll pay for college and a decadent lifestyle for everyone else.

"Do you think we'll have a boy first, or a girl?" She clasped my hand softly and held it in her other.

I lean in for a sweet peck on her cheek. "Which would you prefer? Both?"

She laughed. "I want a little girl. Then a boy, or another girl. If you give me twins, I'll never forgive you."

I laugh back. "You'll have to ask the Lord for that level of control. Unless you want to do in vitro."

"I'd rather we share our love and produce naturally, even if I end up with octuplets!"

I react as I should and give another kiss. After all, I'm just a little cog in an infinitely massive machine. There's no sense in struggling. The easiest path is that of least resistance. The world never has to know my thoughts. No one needs to know just how alone I really feel.

I think Queen said it best:

Inside, my heart my be braking...but my smile still stays on.

The show must go on.