The wedding was one unlike any other.
It was outdoor. That wasn't particularly unusual, of course; it was just a fact. The setting was a peaceful plain of green grass, surrounded by a forest. The clearing was just big enough to fit a tent in case it rained. It went unneeded, though, as the sun glimmered through the canopy of trees. A white, wrought-iron arbor, decorated with cream colored vines, was set up next to the lake. It seemed silly that the family had been so pressed to make it perfect, seeing as only a select few would witness the event. The groom could have drawn in thousands, given his miraculous past, but instead they settled on only a few guests: a group of people called the Flock, a dark looking man who had once been an essential component of said group, two dogs wearing strange sweaters, and the bride's mother. Despite the considerably small guest list, joy overwhelmed anyone who happened to walk in. It rolled off of the walls in bright waves of light, captured perfectly in the bride's laugh.
The bride's dress was another mystery to the odd passerby. While white, it was simply a cropped cocktail dress, nothing too extravagant. After all, she said, her husband couldn't see it, so what did she have to worry about? Everyone chuckled to themselves at this, agreeing, while the groom mocked himself, saying that he saw her in his dreams. The only one who didn't coo affectionately at this was the mysterious, dark outcast, who sat on a white folding chair, scotch in hand, watching the maid of honor.
She was arguably prettier than her sister, the bride, though no one dared mention it. She wore an emerald green, knee-length dress with a sharp v at the neckline, which was lined with ostentatious ruffles. The soft fabric fluttered in the wind as she buried her face in her bouquet of pastel flowers after being teased endlessly by her date. He looked like he could be her brother, with the same wavy golden hair. The only difference was their eyes. Her's were brown, his blue. He kissed her head lovingly, pulling her petite form closer to his side. The scene was one transaction among many. The best man, an elvish, blonde college student, clanged a knife haphazardly against a champagne glass, congratulating the newly-weds. Across the meadow, a mocha-skinned woman sat down next to the lonely man in the back.
"You still love her," she stated, following his gaze to the pretty sister. He sighed.
"It's better this way, though," he concluded, not bothering to dispute the claim. He seemed more determined to convince himself than his friend. "He was actually created for her. It's impossible for him to hurt her. I... I was just someone she knew. The first to die."
"You weren't, though. Angel was," she pointed out.
"If I'd known that then... Maybe things would be different today."
The woman nodded, looking like she was considering saying more. Instead, her companion spoke up before she could, something that her old self wouldn't have imagined in a million years. No one would have. Fang, the ever silent, strong one, interrupting Nudge?
"What about Iggy?" Fang asked, referencing Nudge's poorly disguised crush on the groom. She shrugged.
"In another life, I would have married him, and you would have married Max. I want him to be happy, though. Besides, I was still young when I loved him. I thought we were all there was to the world. There wasn't a chance of meeting someone else." She studied him. "You understand that, don't you? Wanting them to be happy?"
"Of course," he muttered. "But sometimes... I just have to wonder if she's really happier." Nudge waited for him to continue. "I mean, he will always be just a pawn of Itex, even now that they're gone. A reminder." He paused thoughtfully. "She doesn't see it that way though."
For once in her life, Nudge didn't respond, simply letting this sink in. In a way, Fang was right. The company that had once ruled their lives had been destroyed ten years ago, and with it, the strict bonds to stay with the Flock and the Flock only had dissolved. They would always remain friends, best friends. Who else could understand what they went through? But they reunited only a few times a year, slowly moving farther and farther away from each other. They didn't need reminders of the cages, both physical and emotional, that they had lived in. Max, however, had been doing exactly what Itex wanted her to do. She had succumbed to the attraction she felt to her 'perfect other half,' Dylan. She was engaged to him to prove it. The ring gleamed in the streaming sunlight, nearly blinding Fang.
"You made a mistake, leaving when you did," Nudge reminded him. He winced. "But she's making a mistake now." A normal human would have thought that Fang had just stayed still and ignored this, but Nudge saw him nod slightly in acceptance. Satisfied, she smoothed her amaranthine dress, standing up to waltz back into the festivities.
It was hard for Fang not to imagine what their wedding would have been like-his and Max's. On an abandoned beach, maybe. She would be marrying Dylan in a big, fancy church soon, one that was so unlike her Fang almost thought there'd been a typo on the invitation. There hadn't been. Iggy and Gazzy joked about how easy it would be to set the place on fire, obviously also confused by the venue. Max hadn't addressed any of the questions. Not yet, anyway.
"Fang!" she called from the arbor, waving at him wildly and bringing him back into the present with a shock. Speak of the devil, he supposed.
She still spoke to him normally. Almost like they'd never even kissed before. She thought they'd both moved on from their days as teens. They were young, immature, hormone-driven, she reasoned. He couldn't make himself to agree.
He strolled over to his friends, as if in slow motion, downing his drink and leaving the empty glass on a free seat. Standing opposite from her like a married couple sent shivers up his spine.
"We're doing the wedding party pictures for Mom and Ella. Can you take them?" she requested, holding a high-end camera out for him. He took it from her delicately, careful not to make contact with her skin for fear of losing his self-control.
"Oi! Everyone, listen up! Now just because it's Ella's day or whatever, it doesn't mean I won't kick your asses into the next century if you don't listen up!" she barked playfully, stepping back into her role as leader easily. "Iggy and Gazzy, stand together and smile for Fang. And no, I don't care that you won't ever get to see these because the rest of us will."
Over-dramatically, the two best friends trudged over, rolling their eyes. Fang raised the camera to his face as they straightened up, putting on bright smiles. He was pleased to see Iggy so happy, and not at all offended that he wasn't the best man. He knew that Gazzy built bombs with Iggy and, more importantly, never left. But truthfully, he was jealous of all the things he saw around him that he'd never get to have. A best friend. A wedding. A wife. Kids. True happiness. Max. Maybe they were all the same thing. Robotically, he snapped photos of everyone present, compiling pictures for what was sure to be a gorgeous wedding album. A cake was brought out, and the traditional cake-topper of a bride and groom had wings glued to it, much to everyone's delight. Gazzy made a true speech, Nudge played some cheesy love song on her phone and made Iggy and Ella dance, and eventually, Ella threw the bouquet. Nudge let Max catch it, knowing that she really would be married first. Even though there was no competition, Max still looked pleased at winning. It reminded Fang of when they were still kids at the E-house and they used to wrestle when they got bored. That was a happier time for them, one he missed. Now, the look on Max's face when she won was all he had left of it.
Not knowing what he was doing, he lifted his camera once again, zooming in on her. It was the same thing he'd always done, really, concentrating on nothing but Max. So even though the light was bad, he pressed down on the shutter, saving what was left of his past and love.
Click.