Hercules Mulligan was, for the first time in his life, anxious. And it frightened him. Usually, repeating his mantra (Brrrah, brraah! I am Hercules Mulligan!) was enough to calm his nerves. After all, he was a patriotic tailor who loved to sew frilly dresses and bench press young calves.
However, he could not find any of his abundant reserves of courage at this movement. All of his invincibility had deserted him. He sobbed in terror. But he needed to pull it together. Hercules was expected at a wedding in just under half an hour.
Breathing slowly, he ran his fingers lovingly over his collection of bandanas and beanies, contemplating which would be the most appropriate to wear at such a sacred ceremony. Once he was sure of his composure and fashion choices, he left the room in search of Alexander and the other groomsmen.
As he strode towards their door, he heard a muffled voice with a French accent scream, "LAFAYYES!". Hercules knocked on the door and patiently waited for it to open.
Alexander slowly cracked open the door, staring at him in horror. "Herc. What—why are you knocking? And waiting?!" Alexander's hands clutched at his heart as if he were afraid it would stop beating. Hercules whimpered. How could he have forgotten such a fundamental part of himself? What was he thinking? He had lost everything that made him Hercules Mulligan.
Shaking his head dejectedly, Alexander opened the door wider in order to let Hercules inside. Hercules peered through the doorway, and saw Lafayette finishing off his 10th beer with Laurens cheering him on. But at his hesitation, they too turned and gaped at his sudden character change.
"Hercules." Laurens cried, "what's wrong with you, man?" Hercules couldn't take it anymore. He needed to tell them the truth.
"I want to be the flower girl!" He wailed, and Alexander exchanged worried looks with his friends. "No, you don't understand! That 5 year old that's supposed to do it, she won't know how to throw the flowers!" He looked at them earnestly. "I do."
Lafayette rolled his eyes, and was about to speak when Alexander elbowed him aside. "Of course you can be the flower girl, Herc." He said soothingly, instantly quelling the fear that Hercules had been grappling with the entire day.
"Thank you." He sniffled, suddenly emotional at the trust that his friend was placing in him.
"Um, no problem." Alexander looked around desperately for a distraction. "I know, why don't you go find the, uh, former flower girl and get the flowers from her." Hercules nodded. He'd break it to her gently.
After shuffling away from a devastated little girl, he clutched the hard-won basket to his heart. Behind him, he felt the glares of the bridesmaids digging into his back. But he paid them no attention, he had already accomplished everything that he'd wanted from this life. Now, only the ceremony awaited.
The harpsichord was ringing in his ears as Hercules skipped down the aisle, joyfully scattering petals every which way. He saw his mother in the audience, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief. She couldn't be more proud of her little boy. It was an ethereal experience for him; he felt free, no longer restricted by the bulk of his body. He channeled the grace of a princess in his actions, twisting his wrist ever so slightly with each toss. Hercules couldn't stop giggling, the pink petals floating through the air were so pretty. (They were also obstructing his view).
"Hercules!" Laurens whispered fiercely, standing at the altar as the best man. "You're at the end!" Hercules blinked, unable to understand, since part of him was still up in the clouds tossing flowers.
"You're done! Go sit down!" Laurens gestured frantically, and Eliza and her father coughed uncomfortably from behind him.
"Oh. Well, if you insist." Hercules mumbled, slinking away to find his seat and watch the rest of the ceremony.
It had been a glorious day.