Author's Note: Okay, so I might not have had to do too much research on the sights and sounds of Vegas, having been there myself before, but I did indeed have to research marriage and wedding licenses there, since I was never stupid or crazy enough to run off to elope. Nor have I ever set foot in the Chapel of the Flowers; it was only chosen because according to its lovely little website, it is among the best in Vegas and the classiest (is that an oxymoron?). So any inaccuracies are entirely my fault, and I take creative licensing in that. I've also never been to Minnesota, so that memory of Brenda's is also entirely fictional.
This is for Jianna. Like Brandon, I keep my promises. ;) Thank you, my dear.
Chapter 12: Stop, in the Name of Love
Brenda was pacing nervously in the waiting area of the Chapel of the Flowers. She chewed her lower lip as her eyes scanned the room, still a little incredulous that she was standing in a chapel in Las Vegas, about to marry a guy she had only known for a few weeks. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, and her stomach was alight with what felt like a swarm of angry bees. She was way past butterflies.
What was the expression? It's always darkest before the dawn? Brenda wrung her hands nervously as she contemplated just how far into the depths she had sunk at the moment, and she wasn't exactly sure this wedding was the "dawn" she was looking for. In fact, she felt as if she was sinking deeper and deeper into an abyss.
Stuart loved her, she did believe that. But now, with the hour of her marriage upon her, she was questioning how much she really did love Stuart. Was it Stuart she loved? Or was it the idea of love again, especially after all she had been through with Dylan. She had to admit to herself that she had not been willing to fully give her heart to anyone since he had left her for Kelly. So when Stuart had come along and so swiftly swept her off her feet, she took the plunge willingly. She just hadn't considered how far down she would have sunk.
"Alright," Stuart had reappeared in front of her, clapping his hands and rubbing his palms together. "The minister has our marriage license, and it'll just be a few more moments. They have a really nice bouquet they'll let you use, and I met the lady who will serve as our witness. She's actually the owner's mother. Sweet old thing." He paused. "Brenda, stop pacing. Did you hear a word I just said?"
"Huh?" Brenda froze in her tracks. Stuart raised an eyebrow at her.
"I asked if you were listening to me," he repeated. Brenda smiled wanly.
"No, sorry, Stuart, I wasn't," she replied honestly. "I was just thinking."
"Brenda, I'm gonna be frank with you. Your behavior since we arrived has me a little freaked out. This is our wedding day, you should be as happy as I am." She sighed.
"I'm sorry, Stuart," she apologized. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now. Please, just understand that even though I want this, it's still all a little surreal. I mean, we are about to get married," she stressed. "And I'm beginning to wonder if we're not treating the whole thing a little too lightly."
"Brenda, marriage is about two people loving each other. It's not about a big fancy party or hundreds of guests or prenuptial agreements or any of that bull. All you really need is two people and a commitment. I think we have that, don't we?" he asked earnestly.
Brenda wandered over to a plush velvet-backed chair and sat down, ignoring the subtle waves of nausea plaguing her. She let Stuart's words settle over her and tried to put her mind at ease. She exhaled a slow, shaky breath and thought back to a random memory from her childhood.
It was late summer, and she could see her family relaxing by Lake Minnetonka with her parents' old friends, the Malones, and their children. Brenda smiled wistfully as she remembered Valerie, her partner-in-crime, as they used to call themselves, and she saw herself and Valerie swimming in the vast lake, treading water close to shore. They were probably around ten at the time. For the past three summers, the girls had been daring each other to climb the largest tree that lined the shore near their lake house, climb to the highest gnarly branch that reached far out over the lake and jump. Neither one had given in to the other's taunts, but this summer, Val had been particularly insistent that Brenda was too chicken to do it. And so with her heart in her throat, Brenda had steadily climbed that old tree, edged herself out onto the surprisingly stable branch, and rose unsteadily to her feet. She remembered looking down at her friend, her head visible bobbing above the surface, a satisfied smirk on her pretty face. Brenda could still visualize the expression as if it were happening right then and there. Val didn't think she'd go through with it.
And Brenda had jumped, screaming the whole way down until her feet broke the surface of the lake and she splashed into the water with a grunt.
She left her memory behind and brought her mind back to present. And still, all she could see was that smirk on Valerie's face, except now it was etched onto the faces of each of her friends, as well as that of her brother's.
None of them thought she'd do it. If they did, she reasoned, one of them would have made a sincere effort to stop the whole crazy thing before she had even boarded the plane back at LAX. Brandon especially.
"Brenda Walsh and Stuart Carson?" a middle-aged woman in a crisp salmon-toned pantsuit appeared at the entryway to the chapel. "We're ready for you now." She smiled warmly.
"Well, Brenda," Stuart started. "To quote Elvis Presley, it's now or never." He steadied a steely gaze on her and set his jaw. "What's it going to be?"
"Let's get married," she replied, standing and pushing past him to head towards the chapel.
"Wonderful," the woman clapped her hands together, her grin spreading. "I'm Wanda Miles, and I'm going to be taking care of your details for you. Reverend McClure is going to perform your ceremony, and as I've told your fiancé here, Ms. Walsh, my mother-in-law is actually our in-house witness here." She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "My husband tries to keep her busy so she stays out of trouble. Bright lights of Vegas can seduce anyone, ya know?" she winked. "Follow me, please."
She led them into a tastefully decorated room, lined with several rows of chairs, with a small altar near the front. "This is where we hold our most intimate ceremonies, like yours, where it's just the bride and groom. We do have a larger chapel near the back for couples who have guests or parties joining them."
"It's lovely," Brenda complimented. And it was, she couldn't deny. It wasn't a big church as she had always imagined herself wed in, but it certainly wasn't the low-class dives she had often pictured Vegas wedding chapels as. Mrs. Miles walked over to a large oak cabinet and swung open the doors, rummaging inside for a moment. She produced two bouquets of silk flowers.
"Now, my dear, you can choose if you'd like traditional roses, or the more varied bouquet like this one here," she offered, gesturing to the one in her left hand that was a mixture of faux lilies, asters and another flower Brenda recognized, but couldn't identify.
"I'll take that one," Brenda pointed to her left hand.
"Good choice. I've always been partial to delphinium myself," Mrs. Miles winked again. "Now, I'm going to ask you, young man, to follow me up to the altar, where you'll wait for your bride. We like to play the traditional wedding march and at least let the ladies take a short walk down the aisle. Every bride deserves that."
"Okay," Stuart replied, giving Brenda a quick grin as he strode purposefully up to the altar. He shook the minister's hand and turned back to face Brenda.
"Dorothy, go ahead," Mrs. Miles called. It was then Brenda noticed the stooped little lady sitting to the far right in the first row of chairs. The old woman leaned to her right and pushed a button, filling the room with the first notes of "The Wedding March." "Okay, Brenda, that's your cue!" Brenda sighed and held the bouquet in front of her, level at her waist. She walked far too quickly, she knew, but then again, the aisle was a mere few yards long.
No sooner had Brenda reached the altar where Stuart and the minister stood then she heard noises rising in the waiting room where she had just been. Voices began to carry into the chapel, and Brenda's heart nearly stopped as they became louder and clearer.
"She's got to be in there." Brenda heard Steve's booming voice first.
"What's going on out there?" Stuart frowned, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.
Steve stepped through the threshold first, followed by Brandon, and Brenda saw Donna, David, Kelly and Dylan beyond the two guys.
"Brandon!" Brenda called, feigning irritation, her heart nearly screaming out in relief. "What are you doing here?" Brandon started to answer, but Dylan pushed past and stepped to the forefront of the group.
"You didn't think you were going to marry this idiot without your closest friends as witnesses, did you?"
"I should have known McKay would show up and cause trouble," Stuart sneered.
"Is there a problem?" Mrs. Miles asked in a clipped voice.
"No, no problem," Stuart replied, staring Dylan down.
"That's right, no problem at all," Dylan echoed. "You don't mind, Stuart, if we stay and serve as your witnesses, do you? After all, we all love Brenda. You marry her, you marry us." He took a seat in the front row on the left side of the aisle.
"What the hell is he doing?" Steve hissed to Brandon and Kelly, who were standing beside him.
"I don't know, Steve. He told me to trust him, that no wedding was going to take place," Brandon answered. Steve snorted.
"And you believed him?"
"Dylan's not exactly an open book," Kelly murmured. "Who knows what he's up to?"
"Well, if it's alright with our unexpected guests, we'd like to get the ceremony underway," Mrs. Miles pronounced. "We do have several other weddings to officiate later this evening."
"Yes, let's get going," Stuart agreed, clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth, forcing a smile onto his face while his eyes shot daggers at Dylan. Donna and David seized the moment to walk into the chapel and take two seats in the second row, behind the minister's mother, who was nodding off. Steve shrugged and followed suit, leaving Brandon and Kelly standing in the rear of the chapel.
"You want to have a seat?" Brandon offered softly to her. Kelly shook her head.
"I'm gonna stand, thanks," she replied absently, her gaze fixed on her ex-boyfriend. Brandon nodded and thought about remaining at her side, but opted to take the seat next to Dylan.
"You know," Dylan interrupted. "On second thought, Reverend, you think you could just spring ahead to that part in the vows about the "if anyone objects?" Cause I think that's when things are going to get interesting."
"Dylan, what are you doing?" Brenda frowned. Stuart's eyes were blazing fire now.
"Listen, boys and girls," Mrs. Miles began, her tone now dripping with condescendence. "This is a place of business, one where we take the business of marriage very seriously. If you are going to make a mockery of it, I suggest you find another place to play your little games."
"Get the ceremony under way," Stuart ordered.
"Don't marry him, Bren," Dylan warned. "Don't fall for his nice-little-rich-boy act. If you marry Stuart Carson, you'll regret it." The room fell dangerously silent.
"Dylan, I'm not going to listen to you if this is about your personal vendetta against Stuart. I don't care what kind of history you two have together, or what you have to say about each other." Brenda spoke directly to Dylan, her voice wavering slightly. "If you have something else to say, or something you think I should know, tell me now."
"You'd be nothing but a trophy to him," Dylan pointed out. "Guys like Stuart are all the same. They find themselves a nice girl to keep up appearances, to look pretty on their arm at all the charity balls and business dinners, to be mothers to their children and keep their homes looking immaculate. And all the while, they've got other women on the side, the ones that weren't good enough to be socially beneficial but know all about keeping a guy happy."
"You're treading on thin ice, buddy," Stuart snarled. But Dylan ignored the threats and kept talking, all eyes in the room watching him, all ears listening to every word.
"You deserve so much more than being Mrs. Stuart Carson, Brenda," Dylan stated. "Don't do this." Brenda shook her head, glancing rapidly between her ex-boyfriend and her husband-to-be, taking in Dylan's stoic expression compared to Stuart's seething one.
"I…" she began to stutter. "I don't know what to think."
"Don't listen to him, Brenda. I love you. He's insane. I'd never do anything like that to you," Stuart pleaded. Brenda searched his expression, desperately looking for sincerity in his eyes.
She couldn't see any.
"Are we supposed to say anything?" Steve whispered hoarsely to Brandon, who craned his neck back over his chair to listen. He shrugged.
"I don't think so," Brandon replied, sneaking a quick glance at Kelly, who was still standing silently in the back of the chapel, fingers fiddling with one of the tiny straps of her dress.
"Dylan, I'm tired of being alone," Brenda confided, taking a step towards where he stood. "It took a long time for me to let anyone get close to me after what you did to me. Do you even know how badly you and Kelly hurt me? For awhile I thought I might never get over you." She couldn't hold back her emotions any longer; being face to face with Dylan and the overwhelming intensity of the whole situation had consumed her. "And Stuart finally gave me a glimmer of hope that I was worthy of being loved again." Dylan stifled a guffaw.
"He doesn't know the first thing about loving anyone other than himself," Dylan spat. "Love isn't about who can take you to fancy restaurants and deliver big bouquets of flowers that are going to wither and die in a few days anyway. Or about who can buy you the biggest engagement ring."
"This is better than those stupid soap operas you tape when you go to class," David nudged Donna.
"Shut up," she hissed, riveted by what was unfolding before them.
"Why does it feel like we're spying on them?" Steve murmured.
"Because we kind of are," Donna shot back.
"Brenda," Dylan continued. "You don't think I know how much you suffered when Kelly and I got together. I know. She knows. We all know. You think you hide your emotions so well, but you forget I know you better than you think I do. And I know right now, you are standing at that altar partly because you think we think you wouldn't go through with it. Marriage's not a game of chicken. This isn't the time to be stubborn ol'Brenda."
"I'm not being stubborn," she shot back. "And I don't think marriage is a game at all. I'd never treat it so lightly."
"Then why are you standing in a tiny chapel in Las Vegas, away from your friends and family, with no one but this clown by your side? The Brenda I know would never want this for herself. And deep down, you know it," he pressed. Brenda looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink back the tears pricking at her eyes.
"Because Stuart loves me," she replied lamely. It was the only response she could manage.
"No, he doesn't," Dylan affirmed. "But I do. We all do. And we don't want to see you make this mistake. Please, Bren, use your head. Don't listen to your heart right now. Be sensible." Brenda choked out a sob, laughing bitterly.
"I stopped listening to my heart awhile ago, Dylan. Cause if I did listen to it, you know what I'd have to hear all the time?" She paused. "I still love you," she confessed. "And I think you still love me."
"Bren," Dylan warned.
"What?" Stuart shrieked. "You cannot be serious!"
"I'm sorry, Stuart. I can't marry you," Brenda whispered, tears falling freely now. "I can't."
"Well, this is just great!" Stuart yelled. "I could kill you, McKay!" He lunged towards Dylan, and Steve and Brandon sprang into action, each grabbing one of Stuart's arms to hold him back.
"That's it!" Mrs. Miles screamed. "All of you. Out! I will not have you fighting and arguing and causing chaos in my wedding chapel. Get out!"
"Is the wedding over?" the little old woman called. "Where do I sign?"
"Quiet, Dorothy," Mrs. Miles hissed.
"I'm going to get you for this," Stuart hissed as he broke free from Steve and Brandon's grip, pointing a finger in Dylan's face. "And you." He spun and leveled the finger at Brenda. "Don't you dare come near me again. I'll leave your bag at the front desk, and you can get it there. He can take care of you now." He spat in Dylan's direction and stalked out of the room angrily. Brenda turned and handed Mrs. Miles the bouquet.
"I'm very sorry," she apologized. Turning to Dylan, she murmured, "I think we need to talk."
"Well, let's go talk then," he replied. He extended his arm to her, and she accepted it, allowing him to lead her from the chapel onto Las Vegas Boulevard. They began to walk north, heads close together, already deep in conversation.
"That was, uh, interesting," David sighed, squeezing Donna's hand as they also made their way out of the chapel. Brandon stopped in his tracks.
"Where did Kelly go?" he asked, alarmed. Steve, Donna and David exchanged looks.
"What do you mean?"
"Kelly," Brandon repeated. "Where is she?"
"I don't know," Donna whispered. "I didn't see her."
"She was standing in the back of the chapel. She didn't want to sit down," Brandon explained.
"I never saw her leave," Steve shrugged.
"No kidding, Steve," Brandon mocked. "No one saw her leave, that's why we're wondering where she is."
"I can't imagine it was easy for her to stand there and watch that," David remarked. "After all, she and Dylan aren't really broken up, are they?"
"I thought they were," Steve replied.
"That's the problem," Donna sighed. "I don't think they know where they stand. And hearing Brenda profess her love for Dylan had to have affected her."
"So she just took off?" Steve asked.
"Looks like it," David nodded. Brandon raked a hand through his hair.
"Well, we've got to find her," he declared.
"Bran, Kelly's not a lost child. She can handle herself. She probably wants to be alone right now," Steve offered. "Just let her be."
"I'm with Brandon," Donna piped up. "She's probably upset, and she shouldn't be alone. I think we should look for her."
"She couldn't have gotten far," David pointed out. "We weren't in there that long."
"Yeah, but there are ton of places she could have gone," Brandon indicated, his heart going out to Kelly.
"She's not going to get far in any of the casinos," David added. "She's not 21, they'll kick her right out."
"Not if she has one of these babies," Steve grinned, pulling an ID from his pocket. "And I'm gonna go test mine right now. I'll keep an eye out for her, but I'm telling you, Kelly will be just fine, and she'll go back to the Mirage when she's done licking her wounds. Later, my minions. I'm feeling lucky tonight!" And with that, Steve chuckled and headed south down Las Vegas Boulevard. "I'll be at Treasure Island!" he called back over his shoulder. Brandon shook his head.
"He's unbelievable," he mused, trying not to get too annoyed with the guy.
"We'll look for her, Brandon," Donna offered.
"I actually think Steve is right," David spoke up. "Where would we even start? And how would we let the other know we found her? I kind of think we should just let her be. She'll go back to her room when she's ready."
"Would you go back to a room if you were sharing it with Dylan?" Donna said, irritated with her boyfriend. "She's staying with us tonight, David. You can sleep on the couch. Kelly and I'll take the bed."
"Thank God Steve wasn't here to hear that," David quipped. Brandon sighed irritably.
"Well, I'm going to go wait in the lobby of the Mirage. If she comes through there, I'll see her. She shouldn't be alone right now." He jammed his hands in his pockets and started walking back in the direction of the hotel.
"Might as well go back too," she agreed. David took her hand.
"Let's go grab a quick dinner, just you and me, okay? If I'm not getting you to myself later tonight, we can at least have a little alone time now. We're in Vegas," he emphasized.
"Okay," Donna agreed. "I hope Kelly's alright. Poor Kel," she sighed.
"Brandon's awfully concerned about her," David raised an eyebrow.
"Because that's the kind of guy Brandon is," Donna reminded. "He's always thinking of someone other than himself. We should all be so nice."
"I'm just saying…" he trailed off.
"Saying what?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
"What a night," Donna reflected.
"You can say that again," David agreed, and they set off in search of a restaurant.
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Author's Note2: That confrontation scene played out so much better in my head, so I hope it meets all your approvals. It was not as easy to write as I'd have liked. I wanted to get this posted for Jianna, so though I revised several places, I didn't proofread too well. Hopefully nothing was too egregious. I can't promise Chapter 13 this weekend, as my social calendar is too full for my own liking, but I can promise it will not be unlucky. ;)
Thanks again to those of you leaving feedback and all your kind words. It really does fuel the creative fire, and you don't know how much it means to a writer.