The Las Vegas Strip stretched outside the window of the chapel of the Golden Dune hotel and casino. It shone with its light; eternal, somehow, due to the multitude of people coming and going, cars that did not stop, and continuous music whose origin was impossible to locate. The rest of the country slept, and in other parts of the world, it was dawning, but their time was only an abstract concept. Jackie's never seen so many people together, not even at the town's peak hour where she grew up.
"It's crazy out there!" exclaimed Jackie. Her face was almost glued to the glass. "Don't these people ever sleep?"
The woman behind her laughed.
"In the City that doesn't sleep? Hardly" the woman pulled the bow of the dress, squeezing Jackie's stomach like a ham.
Her voice came distorted, almost far away, but Jackie attributed it to the fatigue she felt. What was the woman's name? She had told her, but Jackie couldn't remember it. It was a pop star name... Let's say, Mariah. She was the assistant of the bride and contracted witness. That is, she would be a witness on Jackie's part. She was a young girl with an utterly disheveled hairstyle. She wore bluish makeup, perhaps to hide her dark circles, although, from her mood, she seemed as awake as if it were twelve on a Wednesday.
"The view is beautiful, but nothing compares to Caesar's palace." Mariah pulled the dress, and Jackie exhaled. "Now I just had to put the air in again, if I could. The food is better, and the rooms are de-luxe, and every night Celine Dion plays. Imagine!" her voice turned off. "The only one who plays here is Ed Sheeran."
Jackie barely turned her head.
"I like Ed Sheeran," she said with difficulty, "and so do many other people."
"Mm, if you say so," Mariah departed a little from her work. "Ready, there I stay. What do you think?"
Jackie took a look in the standing mirror. The blue dress she rented was tighter (especially on the chest) than the one made to her measurements in the Underworld and was not so luxurious or comfortable by any means. However, Jackie found it perfect since she had chosen it and paid for it out of her own pocket. The white ribbons that Mariah had tied in her hair and waist gave her an almost elegant touch.
A sigh was heard, which did not come from Jackie but Mariah.
"You are divine," Mariah said with your dreamer. "You're happy, aren't you?"
Jackie laughed a little "sorry."
"Heh, thank you. And yes, I think so," Jackie said and then added quietly. "Although this is not going to be an ordinary wedding..."
Mariah released a long mmm.
"Money or alcohol?" Mariah said. Jackie looked at her, confused. "Because those are the two reasons why people come here to get married. Except, of course, those who run away from home."
Jackie didn't know why but seeing the woman's blue eyes, she thought she could be trustworthy and tell her what was happening to her. But when she opened her mouth, she stopped. It wasn't worth it. They didn't have time, and Jackie didn't have the mental and physical energy to review everything again. So she just said:
"Money."
Mariah's mouth made a strange curve that turned into a smile.
"Well... you're not going to be the first or the last couple who don't marry for love, I guarantee it," Jackie gave a tender smile. "Divorce was invented for something, wasn't it?"
Sudden guilt arose in Jackie's chest. Until now, I had been so busy thinking about the wedding that I had not considered what I would do next.
"And worst-case scenario, if you misbehave, out here there is a Desert that does not ask questions."
Jackie laughed until she noticed that Mariah was serious; then, her smile faded.
"I'm just saying," Mariah said. "Widows inherit well."
Before Jackie came up with anything to answer, someone knocked on the door, and immediately it was slammed. Tom entered, bowing his head down the small threshold. He was furious; his eyes exhumed fire. Behind him entered the male assistant to the chapel, Rodolfo, an older man with brown hair and white roots.
"What happened now? Is everything ready?" Mariah asked.
"No, the judge is still with the Millers." Rodolfo passed his hands over his face, stretching his tanned skin. It looked like a carrot. "But he insisted on coming to see the bride. I told him it was bad luck, but..."
"Leave me alone with bad luck," Tom replied as he wrestled with his tie. "The only bad thing here is this one. Condemned. Suit..."
He made a sudden movement, and the tie was torn, just as the flames embraced him. I don't even have the memory left. Tom threw a roar and a spit of fire that fell on a nearby fern, hugging it in flames. Rodolfo and Mariah growled but stood still.
"Perfect! It's the third tie. Only the bun remains," Rodolfo said, ignoring the possible fire they had in hand.
Undeterred, Jackie grabbed a vessel with flowers from the table and threw the water into the fern, extinguishing the flames. Then she gave Tom a freezing look that put out the fire in the demon's eyes. With everyone calmer, Jackie extended her hand towards Rudolph.
"The tie, please."
Rodolfo took the tie out of his pocket and gave it to her, then dedicate a mocking look to Tom, and he left the room. Mariah went after him, and when she was next to Jackie, she whispered to her.
"Agree. The desert asks no questions" Gave Tom a wink and a smile and left the room.
The young people were left alone. The charcoal aroma of the dying fern was dissipating. Jackie placed the tie around Tom's neck. It was white and went well with his blue shirt.
"So... The third tie?" Jackie began. A red color dyed Tom's cheeks. "It seems that someone is nervous."
Tom laughed dry.
"Well, o-one only marries once, right?"
The comment was harmless, but it aroused anxiety hidden inside Jackie.
"I guess it's true." Jackie tied the tie firmly. "Ready. How are you?"
Tom glanced in the mirror and hid his face in his hands.
"I look like a clown," he said, infinitely unhappy.
"Nooo," Jackie said, with a broader smile than she would have liked. "You're fine! At least we combine colors."
"Yes, because it was the only shirt they had of my size. This is not my color. I'm summer, and this shirt is winter" Jackie didn't get any of that, but she didn't interrupt. "They didn't even have a sack that would fit me... Just this stupid shirt, and I can't even raise my arms on it."
"Do you say that's bad? Look at this" Jackie pointed to her bust, trapped in the dress that highlighted her prominence. "I can barely breathe. Although I imagine it must look good."
Tom took time to respond, and when he did, it was with a scratchy voice.
"It's... I mean, it's very, uh..." Tom stared anywhere except that neckline. "You look great... do you have a glass of water?"
Tom wanted to swallow, but his throat was sandpaper. The Prince of Darkness, reduced to an uncomfortable teenager. He thanked the Gods that Dave was not there to see him.
After giving Tom a glass of water (and Jackie laughed), the young people sat on a bench to wait. Tom occupied almost the entire small seat. He was the first to speak.
"I just wanted to know... if you were sure about all this."
"Are you talking about the wedding?" Jackie said. Tom nodded. "Tom, if you prefer not to do this..."
"No!" he exclaimed. "It's not that. I want you to be sure" seeing Jackie's confused expression, Tom explained himself better. "Look, I know it's just a paper marriage. I know that we're going to divorce. That you're going to continue with your life and I with mine..."
"But?"
"But it's still a wedding. I don't want you to do this because you feel that you have an obligation to me."
"That's the thing," she said softly. "I do this because I owe myself. Maybe... for the same reason that you helped me in the first place. Because I can't let someone go through the same thing as me, I would have done it for anyone else, but I'm glad that if I get married, it's with you," she added as a joke. "Even if it's a Las Vegas marriage."
A shadow cleared from Tom's face. He lay back and shoulders, although his tail was still tangled around his trembling leg. Now all that remained was to wait. Soon, they could get married, and everything would have been left behind. But Jackie still had doubts she needs to resolve.
She takes Tom's hand, who shuddered briefly before returning to his relaxed state.
"In any case, it's me who should ask you if you want to marry me," Jackie said, in an unusually nervous voice.
"I'm already dressed, am I?" Tom said. "Why do you ask that?"
"I don't know." Jackie looked at his shoes. White and blue, combining with the dress, "I just thought that, being that this is your wedding..."
"Weddings are for two people."
"I don't mean that."
Tom was silent.
"What I mean is that... I never thought I would get married. I never thought about that," Jackie said bitterly. "Except these days, which is the only thing I have in my mind."
Tom Rio.
"But if I go beyond that and think about it well, I think one day I would like to get married. Find someone with whom... I don't know, share my life. My dreams, my plans" Jackie's voice suddenly raised. "Oh fuck, just the idea of having plans with someone! I never had a plan of anything. I have always lived the day through the motions, without worrying about the rest."
"The Gods bless you, Jackie Lynn," Tom said, without a trace of irony, "I can't go to bed without having my agenda the next day provided."
"That's what I'm talking about! You make plans. Not me. But someday, I will. I'll know what I want to do, and I will follow that course, as I'm following it now. And that day, I'm going to wish I was with someone to share it with" Jackie's voice became a thread. "But what about you? That law that prevents you from marrying again..."
"It still applies, yes," Tom said simply. "I mean, yes, I could remarry if I wanted to, but that would give my father the right to take away my powers, which is just what we want to avoid. So a-as far as I'm concerned, this is my wedding" Tom made an effort and encouraged himself a little. "But it's fine! It doesn't mean I can't be with someone. Assuming that there is someone who accepts me."
Jackie squeezed Tom's hand tightly.
"You're a little romantic, aren't you?" Jackie said. Tom growled and turned red again. "Heh, I knew it."
"Don't fuck."
Far from lifting his spirits, Tom's lousy mood increased.
"What about your old man?" Jackie said and immediately regretted to see the shadow that covered Tom's face. "I mean... if we continue with this, you will be exiled. You will never be able to go home. Despite everything that happened, aren't you going to miss them?"
Tom's anger dissolved into sadness. He remembered the last overwhelming hours in the castle and the frantic final minutes before leaving. At Jackie's request, Tom left a note to his mother. So that you don't regret it later, she said. Tom wrote a short and concise letter. In it he explained what he felt; about the wedding, his future as king, everything. Avoided delving into any mixed feelings towards her, not to waste any more time. Finally, he told her that he loved her... and apologized. Tom left the letter on his own pillow. He also made an effort to write a letter to his father, or a note, something. Tom can't write more than two words without burning the paper halfway.
Jackie looked at him expectantly, so Tom opened up to her. He told her how his relationship with his parents used to be great, or at least better than now. They spent together vacationing of the good times of how his mother used to be his confidant. But one day, things changed. Tom changed.
"And-I wasn't like that before," he explained. He was insecure, full of hatred. "I was furious about everything; I was always looking for a fight. And it always set everything on fire around me."
Jackie pointed to the burned fern.
"Well, I'm not going to say that I'm an example of peace." Tom sighs. "That's what I mean. I'm trying to be different. I've been going to therapy for years; psychiatrist, practitioners... Meditation also helps. I want to be better than I was. I have to be."
"That's good. It's good that you want to improve," Jackie said fleetingly.
"My father didn't see it that way." Tom squeezed his lips. He stood up, possessed by restless anger. "He says that I lower myself and make it look like something bad. But I'm not the only one, uh. He became distant and sinister. But can I tell him something? Nooo, because he immediately says I'm insolent."
Tom's steps left burning traces on the floor. Walking in circles until he came across the wall, but that didn't stop him. He put one foot on the wall and began to walk vertically on it. Jackie was equally impressed, worried, and scared. Tom went on to talk about how his father didn't understand him and how he hated the idea of being king. When the wall ran out, he climbed to the ceiling and walked, marking burning traces that gave off the plaster. Jackie saw a thread of steam emerging from the vase with water on the table. The liquid inside began to boil.
"Tom, you may want to calm down..."
"And my mom," he continued, "doesn't help either! She should understand my position, but she is too busy pleasing my father and being a queen to be a decent mother."
Jackie felt the room begin to tremble. First the glasses and then the foundations.
"Tom, please..." begged Jackie.
"But the reality is that I'm trying to improve. I'm sick of being an angry and evil demon. I'm tired of hating myself all the time..."
"Tom, stop..."
"And the only options I have is to resign myself to being an evil king or to let the same people who should be on my side lobotomize me. I'm between a rock and a hard place!"
"THOUGH!"
The vase exploded. The glasses screamed. The roses of the vase were consumed in flames and turned to ashes. Jackie looked at the demon on the ceiling. Her blue eyes nailed to Tom's flaming wells. A lonely tear slid down the boy's face and fell at Jackie's feet.
"Don't worry, please." Jackie extended her hand to Tom.
He stopped. The fire had not disappeared from Tom's eyes, and the young man looked more like a monster than a man. Jackie shook out those thoughts and extended her arm, rubbing his cheek.
Tom's breathing returned to normal as the fire dissipated. Jackie repeated reassuring words until Tom abruptly separated. Walking back a few steps and then jump, landing on the floor, standing, and taking just a deaf crack to the wooden floor.
"Ok, one day, you're going to have to teach me how to do that." Jackie hit herself mentally. "I didn't mean something so light in such a situation."
Luckily Tom took it well.
"It's all about the hips. An-another day, I'll show you."
He took a look around. The room was whole, but it had suffered a lot. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered with shoe-shaped ash prints; also, the mirror was broken into pieces, and during the earthquake, several pieces of furniture had migrated from place to place. Beyond that, there was no significant damage, except for the homicide of all the plants.
Tom concentrated on the ashes, on the memory of fire, the essence of the flames themselves. They had gone out, but the fire had not died. With this in mind, he snapped his fingers, and the ashes evaporated in the air. As well as the carpet and burned plaster. Of the footsteps, there is absolutely nothing left. Everything else remained the same, however.
"That's why I want to do this." Tom turned to a lying chair and sat on it next to the mirror.
The fragmented glass distorted his face in an almost humorous way.
"If my only option makes me someone I don't want to be, then I prefer to self-exile." continued Tom.
Tom exhaled all his frustrations, and, unintentionally, Jackie did the same. I had to admit it. Tom was brave. She was abandoning her mother, but he was leaving his whole family, his entire kingdom. The only home he ever knew. Maybe he would never see another demon again. Anyone who therefore goes through to be loyal to himself deserved all the respect in the world.
And, of course, beyond that, Jackie liked him and wished him only the best. She holds Tom's immense hand and helps him stand up.
"Then let's not waste time," she said.
Between the two, they arranged the room as best they could; they put the burned flowers and the remains of the mirror in a bag and threw everything out the window. The remains fell on the head of a half-drunk guy, throwing him to the floor and sending him to sleep. They carefully arranged the furniture in place and covered the cracked windows with the curtains.
Once they finished, they sat on the bench and saw each other. Neither would win a beauty contest; they were dirty and had not slept in several hours. But there was calm in the face of both.
"We're not so bad," Tom said.
"True. We're getting worse," Jackie joked, making her fiance smile.
They remained silent for a while, enjoying the calm after the storm.
"You know..." Jackie said shyly. "I think it's ok. Your decision, I mean. I like you, Tom. I wouldn't like you to change."
Tom felt anguish growing in his chest. It was a known pain but different at the same time. Tom had hated himself all his life, but he had never had someone to open up with, at least not with someone he was not paying to listen to his problems. He focuses his eyes on Jackie's eyes. Gods, they were so blue and penetrating. Tom had to look away not to break, but Jackie's soft hand on his cheek forced him to turn.
"Everything will be fine."
Jackie said it with cold sincerity. "I didn't know I was going to spend it between now and tomorrow, ten days, or fifty years, but I knew everything was going to be fine." And Tom believed it. They were now very close to each other, so much so that they could almost touch each other.
A knocked on the door. Tom took a step back. Jackie preferred not to think about the picket of sadness that generated for her.
Without waiting for a response, the door opened, and Mariah put her head in.
"Guys, are you decent?" Mariah asked, half-length inside the room.
"Turn up your Tom pants. We have a visitor."
"Jackie!"
Mariah took a look at the room, looking for anything out of place.
"I wanted to know if they were ok," she said accusingly. "Did you sense that earthquake?"
Jackie and Tom got stiff.
"No, not at all."
"Was there an earthquake?"
"I think it was a truck that passed by.
"It could have been the wind."
"The Soviet army is attacking!"
"What is an earthquake?"
Mariah saw the bride and groom's strained and false smiles and decided, very wisely, that whatever was happening was not her concern.
"It doesn't matter. I just wanted to tell you that the judge is already free. Ready to get married?"
Again, the two shared a look. Jackie extended her hand and adjusted Tom's tie. They weren't going to be quicker than this.
"Yes," both said and left the room.