for hannah and ana (eep your names kinda rhyme :), my newest ff friends; and tash for beta-ing this with her awesometastical skills & felicia for being amazing times google. :D

also-go nominate some of my 2010 stories in the officially unofficial annual clique fanfic awards (link on profile)? (: nominating ends today!

[disclaimed]

::speak now or forever hold your peace::

[[ i am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion,

but you are not the kind of boy who should be marrying the wrong girl. ]]

'you have to dream before your dreams can come true.' -abdul kalam

Desperately trying to wipe away the unwanted salty tears leaking from my stormy blue eyes and anxiously chewing on my bottom lip, I contemplated my choices. I was holding an invitation to a wedding-the last event I would ever want to attend. And I'm sure it wasn't a mistake because it had "Skye Arianna Hamilton" etched in an unbelievably perfect calligraphy across the front of the royal blue envelope.

Well, I basically had just three options. I could either refuse to go to their wedding and seem like a jealous bitch who held a grudge, go to their wedding alone and seem like a desperate slut who wanted to ruin their big day, or bring a date to their wedding and show them that I've moved on and am happy.

I'm pretty sure that for the benefit of my sanity (or lack thereof), I will have to go with the last option. Sighing in frustration, I checked the "Yes, I will be coming with a plus one" box with my favorite ballpoint pen. I had about two months to prepare for this dreadful wedding, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be ready even if they gave me a lifetime.

.

.

.

Back in high school, we had been so fucking perfect. So friggin' amazing. We had fit together like puzzle pieces; nothing could've torn us apart. Sure, we had our fair share of fights, but we were so in love that nothing else mattered to us but each other. Our friends admired our determination to stay together while our many enemies envied us and plotted to destroy us more than once. We had shared hundreds of thousands of seconds of just staring into each other's eyes in the midst of the crazy, insane, world we lived in as if we held the answers to the universe for each other.

But that was all over now. And the marriage between him, the love of my life, and that bitch, my supposed 'best friend' back then, made it all final. He had moved on. He had forgotten me. He had probably never cared about me.

Wanting to forget, to escape, I downed my glass of bitter-tasting scotch, slammed it on the rough wooden table, and signalled the bartender to keep 'em coming.

.

.

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The one thing I can't stand in the world is when people look at me skeptically, like they don't believe what they're hearing or seeing from me. Unfortunately for me, my best guy friend, Griffin Hastings, was currently looking at me with that exact expression.

"Skye, I always knew you were mentally retarded, but this is too insane, even for you. You want me, Griffin Hastings, to go with you, Skye Hamilton, to a wedding to make him jealous at his own wedding? Skye, think about it." Griffin said incredulously, trying to reason with me.

"Well, when you put it like that..." I rolled my eyes. "It sounded better in my head, alright? Jeez, be a better best friend Griffin. I'm going through my mid-life crisis when I'm twenty-six. Does that mean I'm going to die when I'm fifty-one? Ugh, I'm getting off topic here. My point is I already RSVP-ed that I'll be there with a date, and I don't trust anyone else going with me in case they don't play the part of 'perfect boyfriend' well enough. Please, Griffin? For me?" I whined and tugged at his hand as if I was a little girl begging him to buy me some ice cream.

He shook his head pityingly at me, but I knew that he would help me.

.

.

.

"Skye? Skye. Skye." Massie Block, my best friend since we were toddlers and my co-worker, hopelessly tried to capture my attention.

"Uh-huh?" I answered distractedly, shaking my head slightly to clear my head of all the annoying thoughts about him that I'd been having.

"Jeez Skye. You've been so out of it lately. You barely eat anything, you never hear anything anyone says, and you never pay attention to me anymore." Knowing that I would feel guilty, Massie even threw in a cute little pout as she finished talking.

"Mass! You're cruel. Don't even try to guilt-trip me into going shopping with you on Saturday. I'm really busy! I have like, a bajillion articles to go over." I complained, even though I knew that she had already won this argument.

"Oh, so you were listening to me?" Massie asked sarcastically before giving me a sickeningly sweet smile. "And of course you will, Skye. How else will you ever find the perfect dress for that wedding you're going to?"

I groaned in defeat. The girl did have a point.

.

.

.

Feeling nostalgic, today I had gone through all my old stuff and dug out the delicate trinket of jewelry that I was holding in my palm right now. It was a promise ring from Tiffany's, one that he had bought me when he had asked me to senior prom.

It was a beautiful ring, made of pure silver that still glittered in the light after all these years. It had an amethyst heart outlined in diamonds on the outside and on the inside 'true love is hard to find' was elegantly scripted in Latin. It had been my favorite saying at the time, and whenever anyone had asked me about my future with him, I would reply with that.

Apparently that ring didn't mean shit to him though.

.

.

.

"Ugh. You stupid effing dress. You just couldn't stay in one place, could you? I mean, how hard is it for you to just stay in your effing bag and hang in my effing closet until I had to wear it? You just had to grow legs and walk away from me. I realize that I may not treat my clothing with the uttermost respect, but I haven't abused you or anything! Is there really a need to abandon me when I most need you?" I ranted on and on as I searched through every single corner of my room, even though I'm sure it probably looked like a tornado had swept through it.

I probably would've kept on rambling, but my personal maid, Gloria, appeared in my doorway with a familiar looking dress bag. "Miss Skye?" she hesitated, "Here is your dress. I was ironing it for you so it would be ready for your important date today."

"Right. Yeah, I knew that. Um... I was just... practicing my rambling so there won't be any awkward silences...?" I said, my statement that was supposed to be final and confident coming out sounding more like a question.

Sighing at my pointless lie and obvious insanity, I took my dress from Gloria.

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.

.

Looking at myself in the mirror as I carefully did my make-up, I wondered about how he would react when he saw me, for the first time in eight years.

I don't think I've changed that much in appearance, other than growing a bit taller and slimmer from my dance classes. If he still knows me like he did back then though, he would be able to see the small changes. That my eyes had a sense of wisdom and pain in them now, so unlike the giddy and careless me from back in high school; that I held my head just a big higher now, to show that I had kept my pride despite my broken heart.

But then again, who said he still knows me at all? I mean, I probably don't know him anymore. The person I fell in love with would never marry a bitch like her. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

.

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"Griffin. Drop me off here." I commanded with as much authority as I could muster with my heart beating so rapidly it felt like it wasn't beating at all.

"But Skye, we're still two blocks away from the church..." Griffin said hesitantly, as if he was afraid of defying me in this state.

"Yes, you idiot. I know that. Just... just trust me with this one. Okay, Griffin? Just drop me off here and go back home." I replied, not knowing why I suddenly felt this way but I figured my illogical brain would tell me eventually.

"Okay, Skye... If you say so. Ugh, so I got into this disgusting suit for nothing?" His tone was accusing, but the playful glint in his eyes told me he was kidding.

"Yes, you did. Now bye. I'll call you if I need anything." I said before I slid out of the car, away from my support system that I was depending on for the rest of the day.

Damn. Maybe I really should think my decisions through before acting next time.

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I carefully knelt down (which was very hard, actually, considering the fact that I'm wearing a form-fitting Vera Wang dress) in the shadows behind the side door to the church and slowly stuck my head out from behind the door to see what was going on.

There were hundreds of people sitting in the pews and it looked like the wedding was about to start. He was standing there next to the altar in his custom-made Armani suit, looking as handsome as ever. Next to him were Derrick Harrington and Cam Fisher, his best men, and on the other side of the altar was Alicia Rivera and Olivia Ryan, her maids of honor. She, I assumed, was somewhere behind the set of doors at the end of the aisle yelling at people in her annoying nasal voice because she didn't look perfect enough yet.

Suddenly, the priest cleared his throat loudly and all the chatter quieted down as the wedding began. "Friends, we gather here today at the invitation of Claire Lyons and Josh Hotz to share with them this happy and joyous occasion. This outward celebration we shall see and hear is an expression of the inner love and devotion they have in their hearts."

I tuned out after that, too disgusted to continue listening to the priest preach about their love for each other.

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.

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The majestic wooden doors of the church suddenly started creaking open, jolting me from my daydream.

Claire Lyons walked into the room with her head held high and her shoulders back as if she owned the place. She looked gorgeous in an innocent way, like she always did, even back in high school. She was wearing a strapless Chanel wedding gown with a long elegant train that trailed behind her Prada-clad feet.

There was a simple and joyful smile on her face, but there was a glint of maliciousness in her eyes, just for a second, that just made me hate her all the more. I mean I understand how she would manipulate and toy around with boys when we were in high school, but this is the real world. How could she fool a grown man into a marriage with her when all she's going to do is break his heart?

I think she's become even more manipulative over the years, if that's even possible.

Everything is not what it seems.

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The wedding went on as I watched from my spot, hidden in the shadows. I wasn't really listening to what the priest was saying, more focused on watching Josh, trying to look for any changes in him since I had last seen him eight years ago.

I could find none at all.

He still had that straight dark hair that occasionally fell into his eyes, chocolate brown pools that were like a deep abyss I could fall forever into, bubble-gum pink lips, and on top of that, he was still toned and naturally tan. He looked exactly like the arrogant, funny, and romantic fifteen-year-old I had first fallen in love with, just taller and more mature. He even had the same exact careless smirk on his face as when we had first met, when he had run into me as I was walking out of my homeroom.

But that's impossible, because something had to have changed for him to agree to marry Claire Lyons.

Frustrated, I kept on studying the love of my life even though it was hardly appropriate, seeing as he was in the middle of the most important day of his life.

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.

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"... speak now or forever hold your peace." I heard the priest say as I continued watching Josh for any signs of the person he had grown up to be.

I have no idea why my brain and ears chose to pick up that specific sentence, but they did. Maybe it was God at work, maybe it was Fate, or maybe it was just my ignorant brain picking up random phrases, intent on highlighting the hopelessness of my situation and deepening the hole of self-pity I had dug for myself. But anyway, just for a second, I thought about stopping their wedding. Telling them that they weren't meant to be together, tell Josh that Claire was a manipulative bitch, tell him for just one last time that I love him. Always have, always will.

But then...

I look at him, really look at him. I see a happy twinkle appear in his chocolate brown eyes and a smile grace his perfect lips as he watches Claire walk down the aisle. I see how he straightens his posture in anticipation of her arrival at the altar and how he nervously played with his hands as he waited for the love of his life, obviously not me anymore.

I could see nothing unusual or amiss about him, he seemed like he was happy as a clam and couldn't wait to get married. He didn't seem uncomfortable or doubtful; I could see the love in his eyes when he watched Claire friggin' Lyons.

Well if he was happy, I wouldn't ruin his happiness. He deserved to be happy, despite all we went through back then and how he broke my heart. Everyone deserves to be happy, and if this was what made him happy, then I had no right to interfere.

I can't do anything, I'm not the person who can make him happy.

But that doesn't explain why my heart feels like it's shattering into an infinite number of jagged shards, why my brain feels like my whole nervous system just shut down, or why I feel like my whole life as I know it is slipping through my fingers and I'll never be able to get it back. Salty tears began to seep through my eyelashes and fall slowly down my cheeks. The priest droned on and on as I quietly slipped out the side door and outside, into the cool autumn air.

.

.

.

All of the tears that I had been holding back ever since I had first received the invitation to their wedding came pouring out of my cyan orbs as I sat on the edge of the sidewalk outside the church where the love of my life was getting married right this second. I didn't even care that my expensive dress was crumpled and dirty or that my make-up was probably streaked down my face and that I looked like a raccoon.

I only knew that I had just given up my chance of ever being with Joshua Samuel Hotz ever again, but I guess what really matters is that he's happy, and if I really do love him, I'll have to let him go.

'if you really love something, let it go. if it comes back, it was always yours. if it doesn't, it never was.' -anonymous

a/n: so did anyone survive through reading this? gaaah. this was so disgusting. i'm sorry guys for dedicating to you such a crappy oneshot. :/ well review and shout at me for having the nerve to post this at all? my goal in life is to torture people on ff with my shitty writing. :)

p.s. this was the longest oneshot i've ever written. O: