Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay calm. Everything is alright. This is meant to be the happiest day of my life so why am I hiding in the damn bathroom? I want to walk down the aisle but I just can't bring myself to do so. As much as I love Alfred, I cant take a step out of this bathroom. "Calm down, Arthur" Francis, my French best friend, said. I didn't listen. I continued to pace up and down in the bathroom. "Why don't you come out of there and we can talk about what's upsetting you?" "I am not upset!" I almost yelled back, emphasising 'not'. A few minutes later, Francis had managed to convince me to leave the confined space of the bathroom and join him in the hallway. I reluctantly explained my situation to the Frenchman, he simply asked, "Cold feet, huh?""Yes.." I sighed in defeat. "I.. want to go through with the wedding but.. should I? I mean, he's a nice enough guy but I don't know if I can go through with the wedding.." Francis sighed and covered his eyes with one hand. "Arthur, mon amie, listen to me. You've known Alfred since college, what could possibly be putting you off?" "I don't.. I don't know" I meekly replied. "I know you love this man, and I know he loves you!" Francis continued."I-" He cut me off, "So why in the world are you hiding in here?" "Listen to me! I don't know if I can go through with the wedding because I'm scared! There! I said it, I'm scared! What if he cancels? What if I mess up? What if-" Francis placed a finger on my lips, effectively shushing me. He handed me something and said, "Why don't you think it over, hmm?" before taking a step or two away. I looked down at my hand and found a Polaroid picture. It contained a closed eyed grin and a surprised smile. I started to think back to college.
"Arthur, mon amie, how have you been?" "I've been better.. but what about you?" "Ah, as amazing as always!" The taller of the two blonds hugged the smaller (and grumpier) Englishman. "So, Arthur..Has anyone taken your fancy?" "Francis, you bloody idiot! Why is everything about romance with you?!" I retorted, flustered and almost outraged that he had the nerve to ask that after not seeing me for a year. "Come Artie! I'll help you find someone in no time!" He pushed me towards a nearby picnic table.
Within the hour, Francis had me looking through the yearbook as if it was some sort of catalogue for someone who caught my interest. "What about this one? Or this one?" He asked hopefully. "No and, eww, no" I said without a second glance. "Okay, what about..this one?" His long finger fell on a picture of a cute man with glasses. This man, named 'Alfred', had beautiful wide eyes which reminded me of crisp, clear summer skies surrounded by sand coloured skin. His blond hair was short with side-swept bangs and a cow-lick. I couldn't help but stare. "Ohonhonhon, so little Artie has found someone?" I hit his arm as he laughed.
The next day, I reluctantly joined Francis at a house party thrown by one of his many friends. It wasn't a well hidden secret that Francis was a party animal and a massive flirt (with both genders). I opened the door to the house and was instantly greeted by the smell of alcohol and sweat as there was already many people there. Francis headed straight over to the table where the drinks were set up and grabbed one of the red plastic cups. I sighed and followed him, getting a cup of water as I was the driver. The messy room had empty bottles laid on the ground, waiting for someone to trip over them. I almost was a victim. As for the people in this crowded area, they reminded me of the beer bottles: empty and useless. It was after about three hours of looking after the drunk Frenchie that I decided to get some fresh air. I weaved my way through the labyrinth of drunk guests. I finally made it outside and took a deep breath of fresh clean air. That's when I saw him. He was stood just a few feet in front of me. He was perfect in almost every way. Suddenly he turned and caught me staring. "See something you like?" He said with a heavy American accent of which I couldn't quite place. My face flared re as I tried to stutter a response. "W-What.. no!" I crossed my arms across my chest and looked away from him. He chuckled and said, "Sure, you didn't.. Anyway, whatcha doing out here?" "Just.. Just getting some air, um, you?" I asked quietly,turning my head to look back at him. "Same as you, but I don't think they've noticed that I've been out here for nearly an hour now," He smiled at me with pearly white teeth. "You don't like crowds?" I questioned him." Well I do but I much prefer less crowded spaces.. also I'm tired of my smashed friends asking me to take, like, sixteen photos of them making the same stupid face" Only then did I notice the vintage Polaroid camera hanging from his lightly tanned neck. "You're a photographer?" "Freelance" We fell silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the company of each other.
"Could.. Could I take a photo of you?" He asked quietly yet confidently. "Surely there's more interesting things to take pictures of? Plus, why why would you want a picture of me?" I inquired, almost laughing at his now red face. "I-I, um.. just.. thought.." He stuttered out. I let out a light laugh, "It's fine, I don't mind." He grins at me while reaching for the camera and raising it to his face. Just as he was about to take the photo I spun him and the camera around so that we were both in the shot. A shutter click and a flash of light later the square picture pushed its way from the slot in the camera and hung limply. I took from the camera's grasp and shook it, anxious for it to develop. The fully developed photograph showed a closed eyed grin and a surprised smile. "Really?" The sandy haired man asked in a jokey tone and a lopsided smirk. "Yeah!" My grin grew as I showed him the photo. My stomach gained a warm fuzzy feeling as he smiled at the photo then at me. "Do you wanna take another?"He asked me, fuelling this strange sensation inside my stomach. "Yes! .. please.." I said, possibly too happy. He laughed. I laughed, and in that moment, everything seemed perfect.
I opened my eyes and looked at the photo clutched in my pale hand. Francis walked back over to me. I gave him a slight smile.
"Are you ready? He's waiting."
"As ready as I'll ever be."