Author's Note: This one's for you, Joey, my precious, lone reviewer. I hope you enjoy it. Oh, and to anyone reading this who is unfamiliar with my writing style, this is more of an average length of chapter for me. And away we go.
Chapter 2: This Is How a Heart Breaks
They stood locked in that position for a few moments. The sun continued to smile down through a curtain of clouds, and a cool breeze whirled through the area, rearranging both dirt and debris whimsically. Finally, Sam broke the silence by asking enthusiastically, "So, are you going to go make her cry some more?"
Freddie's head turned in Sam's direction long enough to glare at her fiercely before he began walking in a direction that would not cross Carly's path. To his chagrin, he heard Sam pick herself up off of the wall and begin following him. He refused to acknowledge her existence by throwing her another glare, so he concentrated on moving through the bulging crowd of guests.
Eventually Sam tired of the silent treatment, so she closed enough distance for him to hear her over his shoulder. "So, are you going to get hammered now?" she asked suddenly. The sudden tightening of Freddie's shoulders gave away the fact that he had heard her. A small smile tickled the corners of her lips as she continued, "I know they're only serving champagne right now, but we all know you're a lightweight in every sense of the word. You'd probably get drunk off of one or two glasses of the stuff."
Realizing that his cold shoulder treatment wasn't working, he called out, "I'm not getting drunk, Sam."
"Aww, that's a shame," said Sam remorsefully. "I hear that broken hearts are more manageable through a haze of alcohol."
Still keeping his head looking straight, he pointedly questioned, "Shouldn't you be somewhere causing havoc right around now?"
The smile on Sam's face grew slightly as she picked up her pace and moved even closer to Freddie. Again Freddie's nose was assaulted by a sweet scent as Sam's perfume wafted over him. He could feel her breath on his ear as she asked, "Don't you realize? The greatest potential for havoc lies on your slender shoulders."
Deciding to maintain his stoic position, he nevertheless allowed a confused, "Huh?" to escape from his lips.
"Imagine the wedding ceremony. Carly's standing up at the altar with her handsome husband-to-be." Involuntarily, Freddie saw the scene in his mind, but his thoughts focused solely on Carly's image. She looked stunningly beautiful in her immaculately white wedding dress. "The priest asks the standard, 'If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.'" A cold feeling settled on the bottom of Freddie's stomach as he realized what Sam was getting at. The young woman verbalized his realization by mimicking the voice of a tear-choked, stuffy-nosed nerd as she said, "'I object to this marriage! I have had a futile, one sided crush on the bride for the majority of my life, and if she marries him, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself!'"
It was a sorry excuse for a parody, but the words were true and they stung deeply. When spoken aloud his feelings bordered on the ridiculous, but deep inside his heart they were part of the set of rules that guided his existence. The mixture of shame and pain he felt from Sam's words stopped him dead in his tracks. Eventually the pain blossomed into righteous anger, and with a scowl on his face he whirled around to unleash his fury on the blond devil behind him.
Freddie found himself glaring at an empty space. Immediately after finishing her mockery of his feelings Sam had slithered away into the crowd of guests, leaving the young man with a heart full of rage and nothing to release it on. A quick survey of his surrounding area revealed a solid looking tree a little bit of out of way. His thoughts muddled by rage, he somehow rationalized that the tree had it coming. He felt extremely justified as he attacked it with a solid kick and a steady stream of nonsensical invectives.
The invectives continued for well after the kick. Unfortunately for Freddie's foot his sport of choice was fencing, not martial arts. The pain that shot up through his leg was dizzying in its intensity, forcing him to take an impromptu seat propped up against the tree that he had just "assaulted".
As his foot ached bitterly, he took solace in the fact that in the midst of his pain the blinding haze of anger had subsided. Eventually the pain subsided and Freddie found his eyes wandering over the other guests of the party. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, as they should be on the happy occasion. The gaze he unleashed on them was both envious and malicious. He envied them for being able to share in Carly's joy, but he spited them for not knowing that what they were experiencing was a compromised version of what Carly had dreamed her wedding would be like.
The guests that stood around the bushes admiring the fresh, red roses didn't know that Carly had wanted gray pearl roses intermixed within the standard reds for a shot of unusual beauty. The other ones who were standing there taking in the grandness of the church had no idea that the church that Carly wanted to be married in was the same dilapidated church that her parents had been married in, and that her brother and herself had been baptized in.
He had not memorized these and many other details out of duty to his best friend, or a remarkable intellect, or even the vain hope that through his unfailing devotion to Carly she would eventually reciprocate his feelings for her and he would get the chance to provide her with the wedding of her dreams. These details remained lodged in his heart simply out of his love and fascination for her. He knew them because he wanted to know everything about her, and he would do anything to make her happy. He wanted, or perhaps he was driven unceasingly, to share in every aspect of and happening in her life. Perhaps this sentiment was why he was there, sitting under a tree, experiencing the cruel bite of soul-burning torture with every passing second.
Eventually Freddie was awoken from his thoughts by the realization that he was running out of people to watch. As he took a grander scan of the area he found that the majority of the guests were moving in a steady stream towards the large church. "It can't be that time already," moaned Freddie, afraid to glance down at his watch for fear of being right. In spite of his eyes' valiant stand against reality, Freddie's brain forced him to realize that it was indeed time to head into the church.
Even though his body suddenly felt as though it had gained an extra ton of weight, he somehow picked himself up and began shuffling towards the building. His weighted stride was similar in appearance to a man walking towards his execution ground. His head focused on the ground directly in front of him, his shoulders remained slumped, his hands flopped lifelessly at his sides, and his feet seemed to struggle with each step.
Freddie's death march was quickly swallowed up by the crowd of guests. The assimilation was so total that the young man was forced to look up since a downward gaze placed his eyes directly on the gluteus maximus of an older woman in front of him. He was already an infamous enough figure at the wedding; he didn't need the label of pervert slapped on top of it. His roaming eyes eventually focused on the church that he was being herded into.
The church was stereotypically built for the early 1900s, when going to church was still considered the only proper "retirement plan". Its size was massive in scale, capable of housing an entire high school population. A reddish brick foundation stacked itself all the way up to an impeccably white roof. The roof was decorated with a distracting flourish of parapets eventually leading up to a towering steeple which housed an enthusiastically ringing bell. Stained glass windows poked fragile holes in the brick walls, portraying saints colorfully in varying stages of devotion. Two heavy oak doors marked the main entrance into the building, guarded by a grinning priest who was making a point of shaking every available hand.
"He's going to have to tire out soon," remarked a voice to his right. Freddie, getting the joke immediately, turned a smile in the joker's direction. The smile faded quickly as he found himself looking at Sam.
Shaking his head, he asked, "How do you always show up when I least expect you?"
It was with a serious face that Sam laughingly answered, "Years of practice."
There was nothing Freddie could say to that, so he turned his attention back to the world in front of him. After bumping elbows with a middle-aged man that he had never seen before in his life, he took a good look around him and realized that aside from Sam he had never laid eyes on anyone else in the crowd either. His head faced Sam as he asked, "Why are there so many people here again?"
Sam shook her head, her voice taking a familiar condescending tone as she said, "This is what happens when celebrities get married, dork."
"Oh, right," muttered Freddie to himself. He had almost forgotten that there was a groom involved in this whole affair.
The romance of popular news reporter Carly and local hero Matt had been closely followed by the media since its unintentionally televised beginnings. Matt was an ER doctor who had single-handedly charged into a burning building to rescue a child trapped on the upper floors, carried her to safety using a series of fire escape ladders, and resuscitated her using CPR on a sidewalk across from the building. The feat had earned him an interview on the local news with Carly. During the interview, Carly had asked him whether he was going to fulfill his rescue victim's dream of marrying him when she grew older. He had laughingly replied that that would conflict with his own dream of marrying Carly. The blush that formed on her cheeks gave the doctor enough confidence to ask her out to dinner.
Video recordings of the interview grew into viral status thanks to both the sweetness of its content and the strength of the old iCarly fanbase. Soon the couple affectionately titled "Bob" by the media after a brief stint as "Marly" was a mainstay in the Seattle tabloids. It was a romance that lasted through two years of intense scrutiny before Matt finally asked Carly to marry him.
Freddie's musings were interrupted as the priest grabbed his hand and gave it a vigorous shake that transferred to the rest of his body. His thoughts and balance effectively broken, he stumbled into the church, his nose immediately taking in the uniquely musty combination of polished wood, lighted candles, and devout faith.
From behind him, he heard Sam say, "No thanks, padre," as she danced out of his reach. There was no telling what germs he was carrying after shaking hands with a legion of wedding attendees. The priest turned a quizzical stare at the blond woman before shrugging and pouncing on another guest.
While Freddie began taking in his new surroundings Sam gave him a sharp punch on the upper right arm. As he rubbed the newly bruising portion of his skin through his clothing, Sam glided past him calling out, "Off to do bridesmaidy stuff!" He stood in place watching the blond dodge through the crowd like the experienced cutpurse that she was until she hopped a corner and disappeared from his sight.
Distraction removed, Freddie found himself in a relatively small chamber decorated with potted plants and a bulletin board full of posted advertisements and requests. In a corner of the room next to the main entrance a group of three altar servers stood aloof to the proceedings, holding their objects of worship in their off hands as they chatted easily about anything other than church. Posted at the doors leading into the main place of worship were two kids in mini-tuxedos handing out white sheets of paper.
Recognizing one of the kids as Carly's younger cousin, Freddie snuck up to him, trapped him in a headlock, and proceeded to rub the top of his head roughly. In seconds the kid had broken free with a high pitched laugh. Smiling down at the boy, Freddie complimented, "You're getting strong, man."
The kid shook his head vigorously with a mischievous smile. "Sam says you're just weak."
"Yeah, well Sam says a lot of things," muttered Freddie. "Anyway, which side am I supposed to be sitting on?"
"The one on the right," said the cousin dutifully. He pushed a paper into Freddie's hands and indicated Carly's side with a practiced wave of his arm. He had been coached well.
Nodding respectfully to the kid-turned-usher, Freddie moved towards the pews he was supposed to be sitting in. He eventually settled on a relatively abandoned pew close to the center of the church. Guests continued to pour into the church long after he sat down, however, and in minutes Freddie found himself squeezed between two slightly obese persons of middle age. It amused him for a little while to think that combined, their weights would have added up to three healthy adults. His amusement was soon cut short as an uncomfortable body heat and the unmistakable smell of improperly washed ass wafted into him from both sides.
He escaped reality by focusing on the paper that Carly's cousin had handed to him. It was a wedding program which had a picture of the bride and groom standing closely together in a forest setting. Freddie couldn't stop his finger from absentmindedly stroking the beaming image of Carly as he reviewed the rest of the paper. The front of the program outlined all of the religious duties of the attendees, from when to stand and sit to which songs would be sung. On the back of the paper were simple directions to the reception.
Almost as soon as Freddie finished eyeing the directions the groom and his best man stepped out of the back of the church and made their way towards the altar: the signal that the ceremony would soon begin. As most of the eyes turned towards the back of the church in anticipation, Freddie's continued to observe the groom. He was a tall man, at least 6'3", with short, blond hair that was styled towards the front. He had blue eyes, a strong chin, and an athlete's build. His stereotypical good-looks again gave Freddie's heart a tug of despair. Physically he had had no chance of ever competing with him, and when you added in the fact that he was a genuinely nice guy …
His thoughts were disturbed as the two people sandwiching him in began to stand up. Immediately recognizing what this meant, he shot up right after them, his eyes arching towards the back of the church. They quickly found their target: Carly, in her wedding dress complete with a veil, being ushered in by her father.
He was unsurprised by how familiar the scene felt, after all he had dreamt of it many times over the years. The angle was off, however. He should be looking at her from the altar. His gaze shifted back towards the altar, focusing on the groom. At that moment, he hated that man with an irrational passion that most don't have the pleasure or pain of experiencing. Forget his good looks, and his generous heart. He had committed the worst crime imaginable to Freddie. He had utterly stolen someone who had never belonged to him, but who he had desired ever since the first time he laid eyes on her.
As his viewpoint moved back to Carly, he began to remember the first time that he had met her. She had been moving in with Spencer who had already made quite a name for himself in the building as an unpredictable eccentricity. They met as she was searching the hallway for her brother's apartment. Freddie was on his way back from taking out the trash, and noticed a very pretty girl around his age walking around with a confused look on her face. Shyness overtook the boy, and he did his best to avoid eye contact with her as he passed by. Carly would have none of it, though, and captured his heart with a single, innocent move. Purposely stepping in front of him, she forced him to look up into her eyes as she amiably greeted, "Hi, I'm Carly. What's your name?"
Their friendship had survived all ensuing levels of education, from grade school, to high school, and even college. The memories they had shared were widely varied and impossible to count, but there were a few choice ones that held a special place in his heart. It was these that his memory flashed before his eyes as Carly began walking up the isle to the traditional tune of "Here Comes the Bride".
One time she had given him a delighted kiss on the cheek after he had managed to give her a bag that she hadn't let anyone know that she desperately wanted on her birthday because of how much it cost. After a trip to a nearby mall, they had spent silent moments sitting on a sidewalk curb, wondering at the beautiful palette that surrounded the setting sun. Her break-up with her first real boyfriend in high school had left her crying in his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he struggled to get some comforting words past his lips.
These and many more images ran through his mind, as though his love life were flashing before his eyes. And thus although his eyes were paying close attention to the proceedings, his mind refused to acknowledge it as reality. That was, until the portion of the ceremony that Sam had brought his attention to earlier arrived.
The priest turned towards the congregation suddenly, raising his hands palms up towards the heavens as he solemnly stated, "If anyone has any objections to the union between the two young people standing before you, speak now, or forever hold your peace."
A rush of adrenaline poured through Freddie's system, and in moments his heart was beating rapidly and a crimson flush had spread over his skin. The memories again flashed through his mind, each of them an objection his heart was desperately throwing out. He could do it right now, proclaim his love for Carly and have done with it. Have a sense of closure to go to sleep on. For a moment it made startling sense. His throat loosened, as if in preparation for a rousing shout of, "I object!"
His instincts were suddenly reined back in place by the sobering thought that his objection would mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. A sudden declaration of his love would not sway Carly's heart in his direction, but would cause uproar among the crowd. The only outcome he could predict were tainted wedding memories and a future strained friendship with the only woman in the world who had ever captured his heart. And so he swallowed down the cry of despair that was threatening to burst from his core, allowing it to sink to the bottom of his stomach where it could reside with the rest of the thoughts leading up to this event that he had sacrificed in the name of Carly's happiness.
As his eyes returned to the bride he caught sight of Sam, standing second in a line of bridesmaids. She was looking right at him, her head shaking negatively with an emotion that Freddie could not read from this distance. Whether it was in taunt or in sympathy, the young man didn't care. She had probably watched him throughout the entire inner conflict, witnessed his true feelings threatening to burst out, and then saw him abandon them like the coward that he was. Shame forced his eyes down suddenly, painted his face red, and didn't allow him to look back up until that dreaded, fated moment.
With the deliberate pace of a child unwrapping a candy he's about to devour, the groom lifted the veil from Carly's face. A moment was spent as the couple smiled into each other's eyes. And then, just as deliberately, he bent down and pressed his lips against hers.
The ensuing applause was deafening, completely masking the sound of a young man gasping as he lurched forward. Freddie's hands gripped the seat in front of him as though he was hanging on for dear life, and a small burning sensation seemed to be emanating from his eyes. These physical cues passed unnoticed, however, for within the man's heart, the hole that had appeared the moment he had heard news of the wedding had just doubled in size.
The pain, the keen sense of longing and regret, which he had barely managed to contain minutes beforehand increased in magnitude to something that he knew with certainty would never heal or go away. The nightmare that had plagued his days and his nights had come into fruition.
... The love of his life ...
... was now ...
... someone else's wife.
Author's Note: It's moving along nicely, I'd like to think. The chapter title is probably going to change by the time I'm done here, though. There's a new option opening up as I write this to give this story a Seddie-like aftertaste, but I'm hesitant to take it for fear of how it's going to affect both the overall tone and the length of the story. As it now stands, I'm sticking with my 3-5 chapter prediction. I would also appreciate some feedback. As I mentioned earlier, I'm not familiar with this angsty category and am basically writing this story with my gut as I go along. More than my other stories, your words can affect how the story is written and where it goes from here.