The wedding was coming together nicely, and everything was perfect. The flowers were to be in on time and the caterer had been so kind in changing the menu on such short notice. Castiel felt a huge weight being lifted when everything had begun going so smoothly. Maybe, just maybe, this wedding would go off without a hitch.
That would be the case if the bride wasn't being such a bitch. In her eyes everything was wrong. The cloth wasn't white enough, the flowers weren't vibrant, and the cake was lop-sided. She had been so good about helping everything move smoothly until just three hours before the wedding. She wasn't even in her dress!
"Please, I am begging you, just let me handle everything and-have you been drinking!?" That was why she was being so difficult. Oh dear father above, please please please don't let her be getting cold feet.
"I don't even want to be marrying him!" well shit, "He isn't rich, he is ugly, his dog is annoying, almost as annoying as his voice!" the list when on and on.
I tuned her out after about two minutes and decided to call in back-up. The mother. She had been successful in calming down bridezilla a few times, though those instances were just minor details. I wasn't sure what was going to happen with the whole wedding on the line.
When her mother arrived she let me leave the room and said she would have it handled. I trusted her. Why can't I have one wedding go smoothly? I set about finalizing other preparations while I waited for the mother to let me know everything was smoothed out.
Two hours later I decided to check on them. Both the mother and daughter were on a rampage. Turns out the mother had hated the fiancé all along and now that her daughter wanted to back out, she was all for it. The father wasn't at the chapel yet and the fiancé was freaking out.
I decided to take a break from the bride and go console the groom. When I entered the room he looked up with blood shot eyes. His two friends were there with him, trying to accomplish the same objective I was.
I ran my fingers through my hair for the hundredth time that morning. My eyes scanned the room frantically. I shuffled across the floor then turned and walked back in the direction that I had just come, repeating these actions until I was stopped by the man with lighter hair.
"Bud, you are going to wear a hole in the ground before this wedding can even get rolling. If they are both having issues, let them talk it out and push the wedding back a half hour." His voice was tense as he tried to reason with me.
"PUSH IT BACK A HALF HOUR!? Are you insane? I can't just push the wedding back a half hour! That would ruin everything." I turned to him, letting out a nervous laugh.
He raised his hands in defense, returning to his position by the groom who was now in tears. Again. Why are some men so emotional? Oh wait, I'm one of the more emotional ones! My eyes had begun stinging. This was so frustrating! I have worked so hard, for years, and I never get a single wedding that goes according to plan. It is usually the fault of the bride, and today was no different.
"Is there anyone that can make this better?" I rubbed my forehead as I looked up at the three men.
The groom only shook his head, furthering my frustration and desperation. I tangled my fingers in my hair, desperately wanting to pull it out and scream. This was the worst wedding ever. As I paced I could feel someone's eyes on me but I was so lost in my frustration that I couldn't muster up the energy to care.
"Hey, dude, have a drink." I grabbed the glass offered to me, taking a drink, having been expecting water I choked and spit it out before realizing its just whiskey.
"Sorry, I was expecting water but this works better." I downed the whole glass then poured another. If everyone else is getting drunk why not me too?!
"So, what is the plan boss?" I finally took a long look at the man in front of me.
He had short, light brown hair, and eyes as green as fresh cut grass. It seemed as though his face was stuck in a constant smolder that was trying to unravel me. He was a stark contrast to my disheveled appearance. My dark hair was all over the place due to me constantly running my fingers through it. My blue eyes were dulled from a combination of exhaustion and desperation. I was beginning to look crazy.
"Plan? What plan!? There was a plan until bridezilla decided to ruin it! Now?! Now there is no plan! I should just leave!" I turned to go to the door.
I was stopped by his hand on my arm, "No! You can't leave! We need you here!" I looked at him incredulously.
"If things work out the mother knows what needs to be done, if it doesn't work out, you all can go home and drink away your sorrows." I pulled my arm away as I tried to leave again.
"The brides mother doesn't want things to work out! We need you to calm the bride down!"
"Why don't you just go calm her down, or better yet, send the groom in there!" I opened the door, turning back one last time.
Shit. The green eyed man was looking at me with the most desperate look. Why do I have to be so damn gay?!
"Fine! I will talk to her one last time, if that doesn't work I am leaving." I was shocked when the groom ran over and hugged me, muttering "thank you" repeatedly as his friends pried him off.
I ventured into the war torn room that the bride was trapped in. I quickly opened the door and stepped in before I could change my mind. My jaw dropped in shock as I saw the destruction before me. The chairs and table were moved or on their sides, there were three broken glasses on the floor, and one of the pillows had its guts spilled on the carpet. Though with all the mess the brides dress luckily was untouched. The mother was nowhere in sight.
It took nearly an hour but I managed to get the bride into her dress and talk her into going through with the wedding. I had acted as a therapist and allowed her to get all her fears out. In the short time we had left I fixed her makeup. By this point the wedding was back on track.
Still no sign of the mother. I'm not sure if this is good or bad. Luckily the rest of the evening went smoothly until the reception. I had only stayed because of the groom's friend, Dean. About half way through the reception the mother showed up absolutely plastered drunk. She started a rampage that lasted until security could drag her out.
"Let's hope they get a restraining order or this will be a normal Sunday occurrence." Dean had chosen to sit next to me and was currently joking about the situation with me.
"Want to dance?" A simple nod was the only reply he needed before he whisked me onto the dance floor.
As I sat in the small café, holding my coffee in my hands, I watched out the window. The weather outside to most was dreary but to me it was relaxing. The way that the water dripped down the window, collecting droplets as it went. The fog on the edges smeared the lights outside, turning them into glowing orbs.
The door at the entrance of the café let off a soft jingle as another patron entered. Though this wasn't just any patron.
Dean pulled the chair across from me out, seating himself on it as he picked up the coffee I ordered him. He smiled at me and took my hand in his, kissing my knuckles with his cold lips.
"How are the preparations going?" He lifted his eyes from the silver band on my left ring finger to meet my own.
"Not too badly. For once I am working with a couple that I understand." The smile he shot me was one of utter bliss.
We sat and talked over our wedding preparations, I showed him pictures of the cake and flowers. We had decided to hold the wedding in a friend's backyard and decorate it ourselves. It was to be a small affair with only those closest to us in attendance. It was set for a month from now. After two years of dating Dean had finally proposed, making me happier than I could have ever imagined.
