HELLO EARTHANOIDS~ So, I was watching Gene Simmons' wedding on the television for the umpteenth time (What can I say? I'm pretty sure I'm developing unhealthy feelings for Nick and his amazing voice) and I was suddenly overcome with this sudden urge to write stuff. Henceforth, this thing appeared. And I can't really wrap my head around the whole A.I. thing and whether or not this was all real and what not - really, Inception and Algebra are easier to understand than that. So, I say "SCREW IT, I'M WRITING THIS FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH" and you can hate on it all you want - I don't care.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. That would imply that I have money. And I don't have money. Sad face.
For your literary pleasure, I give you… What Is And What Never Should Be.
Alison looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was loose and in tender curls that spiraled down past her shoulder blades and framed her flawless face. Her eyes were bright and full of happiness. Finally, after months of planning and years of uncertainty, it was here.
Her dress was flowing to puddle at her feet and white as a snowflake. She still felt stupid in the expensive strapless gown, trying to remember why she agreed to get it instead of the simple short dress. Her veil hung on a hook next to the mirror and she reached out for it, running her fingers along the flowered design. Her bridesmaids helped her put it on and they feverishly fixed her makeup, despite her objections.
Then the pearly white high heels were brought in. "Oh hell no," Alison said bluntly. "There's no way you will ever get me to put those on."
"Alison," one of them persisted, "it's your big day. You should look spectacular."
She laughed in reply. "If I don't look stunning enough as it is, my accountant is going to have a serious problem."
The shoes became a distant worry as the clock drummed a steady beat toward the main event. Champagne was brought in along with a shot glass full of the finest whiskey they could find. Alison gladly took her shot glass and the maid of honor proposed a toast. "To Alison, the biggest bitch I know. The last one I would expect to reach this milestone in her life and the first one out of the rest of us to do so. May she keep her man on his toes and may they grow old together in utter happiness. And if something should happen and my girl not get her happy ending, may God have mercy on this man's soul, 'cause I sure as hell won't."
Alison laughed and tilted the glass to her lips, trying not to appear worried. Yet, her stomach was tying itself in knots and she could barely hold down her drink. She was not the type to be nervous, yet her heart was going to pound out of her chest. The clock chimed; it was time for her to leave her sanctuary. With an uncertain step, she moved toward the door, completely forgetting her bouquet. All she wanted was to just march down the aisle. Her maid of honor was choking back a laugh - or was it a sob? - when she caught up to the rushing Alison. "Forgetting something?" she said with a smile as she handed her the bouquet.
"My sanity?" Alison asked, taking the flowers and biting her lip.
"You'll be fine," she promised. Almost suddenly, the band started playing and they all started walking away from her. She was left alone in her thoughts; a dangerous situation for all. Every sort of "What if?" played through her mind and her knees started shaking.
A little girl tugged at Alison's arm. With no words, the flower girl flashed her a grin complete with two missing front teeth - a fiasco that had sprung up during the rehearsal dinner. Suddenly, all of Alison's worries melted away. That toothy grin had somehow reassured her that they could overcome all of the small things in life; all of the petty worries.
She straightened her shoulders, ready to take on anything that this occasion could throw her way. The flower girl trotted off to stand with the ever impatient ring bearer - who really didn't want to be there anyways, let alone in the monkey suit his mother had forced him to wear. They disappeared from sight and Alison took a step forward.
The crowd hushed when they heard the swish of the gown. She was bathed in the dying light of the sunset as she stepped into the garden. Wildflowers were strewn about and paper lanterns hanging from the trees would be the only source once the sun disappeared. There weren't many people, mostly the people from Freelancer who didn't have anything better to do.
And there he stood, in his tuxedo with a blue tie. Leonard was smiling ear to ear as he saw her stepping toward him. She hadn't wanted an escort, even though several of the Freelancers had offered. She walked steadily toward him and one could hear the clunk of her combat boots. That only made Leonard chuckle softly, knowing very well that getting her into that gown must have been a challenge worthy of mythical heroes. The challenge proved worthwhile, as she was radiant.
She reached him and stood next to him. Simple vows were exchanged and rings slid onto their fingers. Yet, as soon as Leonard was told he could kiss her - the vision dissolved.
Tex flicked her eyes back to her reflection in the mirror. She was standing in the bathroom in a simple white tank top and sweat pants. Her hair was damp and straight as an arrow, barely grazing her shoulders. She took a deep breath and wiped what could have been the start of tears in her eyes. This was no time for remorse; it never would have worked out anyway. There was no use in chasing empty dreams.
Sweet holy Tallarico, I need to stop writing fluff - or whatever the hell this would be called. Don't judge me too harshly.