A/N: Sorry, I've been busy with a couple of presentations and my drama class, which is doing a play that I need to learn. Fear not, for this is not it for tonight. I just need to post this now so I don't suddenly remember a piece of homework that needs doing and leave this forever to gather dust.
POSSIBLE SMALL TRIGGER WARNING (I'm not really sure, but if you are easily triggered, DO NOT READ, just in case.)
"Hi, Iris," I say as I enter Jitters.
"The usual?" Iris greets as I enter the non-existent line.
"No, its tea for me today. I'm stress-bloating because of the wedding," I say, and it was true. Mostly I was just worried I'd overeat and look really fat, but the caffiene was putting on two kilos, and it seemed to stay in my bloodstream for days on end.
"Stress?" Iris asks, minding her noticable baby bump as she made my order.
"Yeah, I'm really worried about the wedding. Anyway, I can't do the whole dress thing. It's kind of silly, but I think I'm gonna make Barry order it online-"
I am cut off by Iris' scream.
I can feel the flabbergasted look on my face.
"YOU CANNOT ORDER YOUR WEDDING DRESS, OR YOUR BRIDESMAIDS DRESSES, FOR THAT MATTER, OFF OF THE INTERNET! I WON'T ALLOW IT!"
"Why? You have a dress, I have a dress, we're good."
"Barry wants red, remember?"
"Perfect. Then, you can just get my dress while you get yours and Felcity's, and this can all work out without either of us beheading anybody."
Iris gasps, as if I'd told her I had murdered Barry in search of vengance for cupcakes (I wouldn't know, I've pretty much forgotten the taste).
Apparently, no, I was NOT going to get out of this.
She starts babbling.
"If you need to custom-order, you must wait for a week at the least for normal delivery," Iris continues.
"Okay, fine. Call Felicity. Have her meet us for lunch back here. Make sure she DOESN'T bring Oliver. I swear those two have been joined at the hip since forever."
"Will do. Here's your tea, and its on the house."
"Too late, already paid." I hold up my credit card, playfully not-guilty.
"You are impossible, Caitlin Snowallen."
There must have been something on my face, because she asks me something. Through the water that seems to be gurgling around as if my head were a giant toilet bowl, I hear her distinctly ask, "What?"
I open my mouth to answer, but no sound comes out.
My vision swirls like a mid-2000's video transition effect and the screen turns to black.