Set in an alternate universe. No fairy powers or anything like that. But the girls from Winx in the real world.

Disclaimer: I do not own Winx or its characters.

It's true that as you get older, you start to hate weddings, be it if you were married or single.

The bitter married couples would smile cynically at the bride prettily clad in white, clinging onto her groom's arm and secretly mourn and long for the novelty and innocent pleasures of their long past newly wed days.

The happily married ones would also have their share to gripe about, wedding gifts were after all an additional costly expense, an interruption in their usual basic planned household expenditure. The prices of appliances and silverware these days weren't what they used to be, and you of course wouldn't want to be known as the one who was so cheap that he gave the bridal couple coffee mugs from the dollar store. (Or its equivalent for that matter, but you get the idea.)

But weddings were, of course, particularly torturous if you were single. And that's where Musa was at Stella and Brandon's wedding; seated all by herself, single, solitary and alone amidst all the usual wedding décor fluff of white tulips, pink roses, and cascading peach cloths with floors strewn with confetti and scented candles everywhere. It was enough to make her want to jump up, tear out of the manor and jump on the next flight back to New York.

Nonetheless, her sense of propriety and friendship held her in her seat. Stella, Bloom, Flora, Techna and herself went way back. They had been high school buddies, so to speak. And when one grows up in an all girls' private school, you tended to form some pretty formidable friendships.

Still it wasn't easy to ignore the pang of loneliness as Musa watched Brandon twirl Stella around on the dance floor. It seemed like everybody had somebody. Bloom with her fiancée, Sky; Techna who by now was seven months in waiting and had Timmy tenderly patting her tummy; Flora who was feeding her on and off again boyfriend Helia food from her plate. It was as if the natural thing right now was for people of her age to get attached and have somebody by their side.

'I had to be the one to buck the trend.' Musa thought ruefully as she swirled the red wine in her glass. Then she shook her head and tried to force herself to regain her normal cheerful, optimistic composure.

'It isn't like I haven't had my share of fun,' she reasoned with herself. 'I mean there had been Riven.'

And then almost instantly, Musa regretted that she had thought of him.

It had been three years since they had last been together. It took her a year to get over him, another year to re-establish their friendship and now they were finally casual friends again. But Musa had solemnly vowed never to enter into anything more than a platonic relationship with the sullen, sulky chap with the sharp, dry wit. No matter how good he looked, nor how he always managed to make laugh, Musa was never going back to that again.

High pitched giggles brought Musa back to earth, and as her eyes refocused, she realized that Brandon had dipped Stella on the final notes of the song. The move had been perfectly executed and gained lots of applause from the guests.

"Oh my gosh, Stella is sooooo lucky to snag a guy like Brandon. I mean, he looks like a model. He is so hot." Musa glanced over her shoulder to see some of Stella's friends squeal over the bridal couple, or rather over Brandon.

"I know, I mean he is to die for. I would so do him if I had the chance." The platinum blonde, next to the first speaker, piped up.

Disgusted, Musa turned away. How could anyone think of doing the groom at their friend's wedding? Musa had just about enough of the whole affair and decided it was time to make her long-awaited exit. She gathered her purse and miscellaneous belongings and stood up to bid the wedding couple goodbye.

But as she turned, she found herself colliding with a chest, and falling quite ungracefully back into her seat.

"Ooof.." she exclaimed and restrained herself from muttering some swear words.

"Sorry, I've had a little too much to drink and… Musa?"

Musa's eyes widened slightly as she began to register the familiar male voice and just whose chest she had conveniently bumped into.

"Riven." She said civilly and managed a little smile.

"Gods, wow. It's uh… been a while." Riven said. She could smell the alcohol in his breath. But she couldn't hold it against him, she had been having a whale of a time with the free flow of alcohol provided at the banquet as well. She stared up at him. He looked fantastic in his charcoal grey suit, loosened tie and hair slightly messed up. Very delicious really. Gods, the alcohol must be getting to her too.

"Well, aren't you going to help me up?" She said sharply when she found her tongue.

"Oh I'm all for women's rights these days. I believe in giving them the space to perform for themselves." Riven replied in what would have normally been a very smooth return except that he was indeed a little tipsy and he couldn't help slurring his words.

"Which says a lot about chivalry and courtesy on your part," Musa said archly as she stood up again and smoothed her skirt. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find the bride and groom and bid them farewell."

She tried to brush past him but the next thing she felt was a pressure on her wrist and as she turned to gaze it, she realized that Riven had her wrist in a very firm grasp.

"Stay." He said.

It was crazy, but it seemed as if the room was spinning and getting way too warm. Musa found herself catching her breath. She scanned the dark brown eyes before her, trying to discern his motives, any possible sentiment… … …

But if there had been anything it was gone. Riven seemed to recollect himself and in a quiet, reasonable tone, he reminded her that it was only polite to stay til the end since Brandon and Stella had been close friends. He left soon after she had consented to stay, leaving her wondering, doubting and questioning if everything that had happened was just all inside her head.

Damn that free flow of wine. It was definitely impinging her judgment.