Through All the Dust

We’d found ourselves a club. It was loud and it was crowded; it was the perfect place to lose my identity within. The women had found their way together, urging the men to join later for pre-wedding day celebrations. Because that’s what everyone wants on their wedding day, right? A hangover? Why the fuck not.
As Lauren, Mona, and I waited outside the lobby for a cab, a cigarette in my hand, we were hilariously surprised when Marge came running through the doors, flailing her hands in the air. It seemed unnecessarily dramatic given that our trio was still stationary.
“I want to come!” she shouted at us.
Lauren giggled quietly as Marge theatrically flailed around in an attempt to make good time. She huffed and puffed, hands on her knees to take shallow breaths.
“Dude,” I laughed, taking an exaggerated puff of my cigarette, “we haven’t even called the cab yet.”
“What?” Marge barked, peering up at me through her exasperated eyes. “Are you shittin’ me, Blair?”
A shocked grin spread across my face as I choked on the nicotine in my lungs, “Am I what?”
“Shittin’ me!” she repeated more confidently, pushing her hands against her thighs to give her momentum to stand. “I ran all that way for nothing?”
I tried to hide the amusement pinching at my cheeks, “It would appear so.”
She grumbled something inaudibly with a violent shake of her head. Lauren took it upon herself then to call for a taxi. I’d insisted she wait until I’d had the opportunity to properly enjoy my cigarette. Non-smoking hotel rooms were the absolute worst, and while we did have a balcony…the chance to indulge in my bad habit hadn’t presented itself. I hadn’t a smoke since before dinner, which felt like a lifetime ago.
Brian and I had booked individual suites, deciding at the last minute to be somewhat traditional and stay apart for the night before the vows. Granted, it wasn’t too far apart given that we were all about to head out for a night of binge drinking together. But I’d retire with my small group of girls and Brian would rest easy with the boys.
“You know,” Marge spoke up as I butted my cigarette out into the outdoor ashtray. “you can’t get too obliterated tonight, girls. You have to look presentable tomorrow.”
“Really?” I scoffed playfully. “I thought I’d just roll out of the dumpster I intend to end up in and show up to the wedding as is.”
Marge narrowed her brows, “Blair, that isn’t even funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” I assured her, using my fingers to signal just how very funny it was.
Lauren smiled, nudging my arm with hers, “Don’t torment poor Margie.”
“Yeah, Blair,” Marge smirked smugly. “Don’t torment me.”
I spent the next several minutes being lectured by my friends about the proper way to treat, and speak to, Marge like it was some foreign concept to me. When the cab finally pulled up, I was relieved to get away from the noise. Unfortunately, the noise had been invited along and it continued until we were inside the club, drinks in hand.
“Where are the boys?” Mona asked me, shouting to compete with the bass.
I shrugged with animation to get the point across.
“We need more drinks!” Lauren insisted, shaking her empty glasses at me for added effect.
She’d already downed six in the time it had taken me to nurse two. Apparently Lauren was avidly pursuing a good time, and I was happy to encourage that terrible decision making pattern. She rarely let loose and when she did—good things always happened. It’s how Jimmy had fallen in love with her, and I had a sneaking suspicion it was how Owen was conceived.
Marge and Mona had been discussing Mona’s upcoming wedding. Marge loved anything to do with the romance and was thrilled to discover the rock on Mona’s hand. I was still harboring the hilarity that was seeing Marge in a club.
“We’re going to get drinks!” I told Mona, pointing in the general direction of the bar.
She nodded, waving me off as she turned her attention back to Marge.
Lauren and I weaved through the crowd, trying not to lose each other in the chaos. People were bumping and grinding all over the place. I won’t lie, it felt a bit like an orgy.
When we finally made it to the black bar, we pushed our way to the counter. Lauren slumped her elbows atop it and leaned into them. It was going to be a wait.
Lauren shot me an impatient glance as she tried over and over again to get the bartender’s attention. It wasn’t working. I smiled at her attempt, getting a real kick out of her frustration.
As we waited, my thigh began to vibrate. I pulled my phone from my pocket and flipped it open, squinting to read the wording on the screen. I definitely needed glasses.
From: Bri
Hey fuckhead, you’re going about this all wrong.
I scratched at my head in confusion. What the fuck did that even mean? Lauren glanced over at me and immediately recognized my turmoil. I twirled the phone around for her perusing pleasure and she, too, scratched at her head in confusion. My shoulders shrugged in response to the question she didn’t need to ask. As I began typing a rather curt response, a second message came in.
From: Bri
Stop waiting in line like a peasant. We have a VIP booth. Get up here.
My eyes began to dart around for any sign of my almost husband. There were far too many people crammed into this building—and my eye sight was far too poor for that nonsense. I tapped Lauren’s shoulder, handing her the phone entirely this time.
“Okay,” she shouted at me oddly.
We pushed our way back, making a pit stop to grab Mona and Marge. Then we headed for the VIP section, which was blocked off by security and a rope. We lingered at the bottom of the staircase, totally unsure how to approach the situation. I didn’t know how to get into a VIP section…
To: Bri
I don’t get it. How’d you get in there?
The security was staring at my group with stark curiosity.
From: Bri
Show him your face? You forget who you are sometimes, huh? It’s cute.
Oh, right.
I laughed a little as I dragged my friends to confront the security man. He recognized me instantly once given the opportunity. We didn’t need to express pleasantries and we didn’t have to ask. He pulled back the rope and we hastily climbed the dimly lit stairwell. The vibe upstairs was so much more docile than it had been downstairs.
I spotted Brian right away. He was with the guys, lounging in a set of black leather couches. We joined them promptly, excited to find they’d ordered several bottles for the group.
We proceeded to get properly drunk. Brian and I dared each other to push it further and further with each sip. At this rate, we’d still be stumbling down the aisle.
“I can’t keep up with you lot,” Marge chuckled, denying a shot being offered to her by Mr. Christ.
He shrugged, slamming it back himself.
“How are you not dead yet?” she asked me pointedly.
I just laughed. I didn’t really have an answer for her—I was a medical marvel. Or maybe I was part cat. I’d exhausted a couple of my lives but surely I had a few left to spare. Though, I was probably cutting them all short with the sheer amount of tequila I’d ingested.
Brian leaned into me, planting a kiss on my neck and whispering into my ear, “You’re tasty as fuck, did you know that?”
Chills crawled up my arms, his words transporting me back to a time when he was still new and undiscovered. That’s how he’d gripped me—calling me tasty and refusing to back down from his commitment to the revelation.
“Stop that,” I grinned, pushing him away playfully.
As a new song cut through the ambient pandemonium, Lauren leapt onto her feet.
“I love this song!” she shrieked excitedly, clapping her hands together like a weirdo.
It wasn’t a song I knew. Lauren was into pop music and anything with “cool bass”. I couldn’t get behind her musical preferences and chastised her for them any chance I got. This time was no different. I groaned, cringing as the repetitive tune started its endless loop.
“B!” she cried, extending her arms out to me. “Come and dance with me!”
I laughed starkly, “Fuck that!”
“Blair!” she whined, gyrating on the spot like that would somehow convince me.
“Take Zach!” I suggested, gesturing over to him. “Or Johnny!”
They exchanged glances.
“Or Matt!” my hunky friend suggested, stretching his tattooed arm out to Lauren.
She happily took it, smugly scoffing at me as they disappeared down the stairs and into the crowd. Last time I’d danced with Lauren, she’d grown a hatred for Brian. Not that I thought it would happen again, it had just left such a terrible taste in my mouth that I preferred not to relive it. I also wasn’t much of a dancer.
“As if she just chose Shadz over us,” Zach pouted, folding his arms around his chest.
“Story of our lives, man,” Johnny laughed, raising his glass.
Zach raised his eyebrows with a nod, reaching out to the table to grab his drink before slamming it back.
“Should we dance?” Brian asked me cautiously.
I shook my head vigorously, “Please don’t make me do that.”
He laughed loudly, “This is why I’m marrying you.”
“And because I complete your life,” I grinned with a lazy wink. “You’d be lost without me, Haner.”
Brian just smiled.
As an opportunity to stretch my legs, I climbed to my feet and headed for the edge of the second level. The view of the main floor was oddly beautiful. You could see everything. The crowd looked almost like a whole in the way it bounced and moved together. There was something deeply unifying about the experience—but I was on the outside.
I caught sight of my light-haired best friend, running her hands down Matt’s chest as they grooved to the music. They looked like they were in the prime of their lives—laughing and genuinely enjoying the company. I took a mental picture, storing it away for safe keeping. You never know when you might need to pull at an old string to keep yourself from falling.
A pair of painted arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I’d recognize those colored monsters anywhere. I let my fingers wrap themselves around his wrists and I leaned myself into him.
“Creeping?” he asked, resting his head on my shoulder.
I smiled, turning my head to kiss his cheek gently, “Just a little.”
“Remember when we were full of energy?” he smirked.
“Back in our youth,” I teased.
“And now we’re old and almost married…Time fuckin’ flies.”
I hummed a response that I knew he couldn’t hear.
His hands dropped to my hips and he turned me around. I’d anticipated a lunge of affection but instead he was digging through the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out a white envelope and looked up at me nervously.
He handed it to me.
“What is this?” I asked curiously, making to rip it open.
He stopped me quickly, “You have to read it in the morning.”
“What is it?” I asked again, more desperately this time.
I was dying to know what the contents were.
He just smiled, “Morning reading material.”
With a nod, I agreed and held it in my death grip until I could return to my purse and safely tuck it away. We watched the world below for a while longer, leaning on each other just as we always had.
Just after midnight, we parted ways with a kiss and a promise to see each other soon.
“At the altar,” Brian smiled. “I’ll be the one in black.”
The women dragged me away and into the cab, where they cheerfully gushed about how it was officially wedding day. I’d expected to feel nervous at the mention of it—at the realness of it. But I wasn’t. It wasn’t anything like I’d ever dreamt it up to be.
I was just excited to see Brian again.

Notes

I hate to say it...but this story's almost at it's end. We've still got a bit to go here, but I think it's worth mentioning that we're drawing out to the finish line. For this installment, anyway.

So enjoy it while you can ;)

xx