The thunderous applause was soon joined by wholehearted cheering that chased the couple even as they were stepping into their appropriately decorated getaway vehicle. Rice continued to be hurled at the sleek, silver car as it drove away, trailing along colorful streams of papers and crumpled, aluminum cans tied to strings.
After watching the car disappear down the road, the wedding guests began to move as one mass towards their parked automobiles. The priest watched them go with a broad smile on his face. He had promised the newlyweds that he would appear at the reception, but before that honor he had some church maintenance to take care of. The priest turned suddenly and moved to get started on his chores. After all, he may have been getting up there in years, but he wasn't old enough to not want to go to a party. As he stepped back into the church, the feeling of rightness that existed between the bride and the groom brought a warm feeling into his heart. He sent a silent prayer to God that their marriage would continue as smoothly as their wedding ceremony had gone.
His search of the pews for forgotten belongings and abandoned wedding programs was interrupted as he noticed a young man sitting alone on the right side of the church. As he moved closer, he recognized him as someone he had personally greeted into the church earlier that day: a wedding guest. He should have been one of the people who were rushing to the reception to take part in more wedding memories.
With each step towards the young man, the priest felt an increasing sense of wrongness. The slump to his shoulders and the drooping of his head were not normal signs on a wedding day. When he was finally close enough to see his face, he found a familiar, vacant expression. It was an expression that usually appeared after periods of intense grief, when the heart had undergone so much suffering that the face just turned off. The priest was used to seeing this expression at funerals, or by the deathbed of a loved one. Not at a wedding.
The priest continued to observe the young man for a moment, his right hand reaching up to scratch at his snow white, full beard. Finally, he quietly approached the troubled young man with practiced grace and sat next to him. The young man continued to stare straight ahead, not giving any signs of noticing or acknowledging the priest's presence. They sat in complete silence, until the elder man emitted a loud cough.
Freddie awoke from his daze to find the priest who had nearly shaken his arm off sitting next to him and aiming a warm smile in his direction. It was a disconcerting though welcome change from the silent motion picture that his mind had been repeating on an endless loop. After returning his thoughts to the present, he aimed a wry smile in the older man's direction and asked innocently, "I'm sorry, father. Did you need to close up the church?"
The priest shook his head, his eyes and his smile never leaving Freddie's face. "The house of God is always open to those in need." Freddie's mind slowly digested the priest's answer. Did the priest think he was a vagrant? His face must have betrayed his thought, because the older man clarified, "You looked like you could use someone to talk to."
The priest had the right of the situation, but he wasn't exactly the right quality of person for Freddie to have the conversation with. He was fairly certain he was in direct violation of one of the commandments. Still, Freddie was desperate to get the thoughts outside of his mind where they were ricocheting against each other with dangerous frequency, so he quickly redressed his thoughts in more church-friendly banter. "What should one do when reality is crushing his innermost desire ... maybe even his reason for existence?"
The priest folded his hands in his lap and turned his gaze towards the large, wooden cross that was suspended on the wall behind the altar. He was starting to see where this conversation was heading. The more he thought about it, a young man broken down after a wedding pointed towards a specific situation. After a deep breath, he answered, "I suppose that depends on what that innermost desire is."
Freddie aimed his frown downwards. The priest had effectively maneuvered him into a corner that he could not back out of without revealing more than he intended. It was too late to go back now, though. Keeping his eyes down, he asked, "Father, is it okay if I confess something to you?"
"Of course," responded the priest instantaneously, having anticipated the question. "Would you feel more comfortable if we moved to the booths?"
"No," said Freddie with a shake of his head. "Here's fine. Umm, I kind of forgot the, the confessorial prayer, but it's been maybe 10 years since my last confession."
The older man smiled gently. "You've probably built up quite a store of sins over that period of time."
Freddie shrugged and turned an innocent smile towards the priest. "I'm a pretty straight edge guy, so I'd like to think my slate is pretty clean. There's this big one right now, though, that I would like to get off of my chest." After receiving an encouraging nod from the man next to him, Freddie confessed, "I've broken, probably shattered, one of the commandments."
"And which one is that?" asked the priest, even though he already knew the answer.
The words came out as the priest was thinking them. It was as if Freddie were reading his thoughts aloud. "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife."
The priest took a deep breath, knowing that he was beginning to tread on unsteady ground. Should he attempt to absolve the young man's sin, or should he try to help heal his raw heart? He eventually decided that it would be prudent to get a better hold of the situation, and asked lightly, "Do you covet her, or do you love her?"
There was no hesitation in the voice that answered back with reflexive ease, "I love her." A thick feeling began to rise in the old priest's chest. There was a purity to the young man's words that resonated within the elder, for the man who had devoted his life in the service of a higher power sensed within those words a kindred spirit. Only this young man hadn't lived for divine favor. He had lived for the favor of the girl he had joined to another man in marriage minutes ago.
The priest thought back to the pre-marriage counseling he had gone through with the newly married couple prior to that day. They had seemed like a good match, with each of them genuinely admiring the other. They were a level-headed pair, and he truly believed that if they did not suffer some kind of disaster they were capable of going the distance. Still, the couple had not looked at each other with the flames of passion in their eyes. Not like they were blazing now, in the brown eyes of the young man sitting beside him at the mere mention of the bride.
The bearded man had to fight hard to keep a frustrated groan from escaping his mouth, as he was now more conflicted about what to do than he had been when he asked his question. Did he uphold the sanctity of the marriage he had just presided over, or did he pay homage to one of the purest examples of devotion he had come across in his long life? His gaze drifted away from the pleading eyes of the young man, who seemed to be hoping for some kind of miraculous release from the soul-constricting pain that must be gripping his heart, towards the same large, wooden cross he had been meditating in front of for years. Like it had done for many moments of his life, the familiar symbol sparked a revelation in the priest. He returned his attention back to the young man and admitted, "I don't believe I am the proper person for this confession."
It was difficult not to burst into laughter at the befuddled expression that appeared on the young man's face, but the priest somehow managed to keep only a gentle smile on his face. His left hand reached up to gently pat Freddie's shoulder before he stood up and walked away from him.
The priest was just finishing his check on his second row of pews when he noticed the young man leave his seat and begin to drift towards the church exit. The bearded man gave a small prayer for the young man's health before returning to his task with a pensive expression on his face.
After a final turn of the steering wheel, Freddie was finally able to align his car parallel to the curbside. He released a cathartic sigh of relief after successfully completing his first parallel parking job in years. After removing his keys from the ignition, he took a good, hard look at the building he had parked a block away from.
It hadn't been difficult for Freddie to find the building where the reception was being held in. Based on the appearance of the church, he knew he just had to look for the most grandiose building. The structure did not disappoint his logical reasoning, rising out of the surrounding buildings like a mighty oak surrounded by shrubs. What would normally be an impressive sight was transformed into an oppressive one. The height, the grandeur, and the solidarity of the building all seemed to symbolize what he was up against.
The young man quickly squelched that thought. He wasn't "up against" anything. A battle wasn't being fought now, or about to begin. If anything, he had already lost the war after a lifetime worth of minor skirmishes. Minor skirmishes was the proper term, because he hadn't really been fighting that hard, had he? He's just sat idly while that old, arm rattling priest offered him the chance to have a final say in the matter; to reveal the core of his heart. Freddie had looked away in shame when he should have looked straight at Carly and spoken up ... no ... objected ... howled! What he should have done then, he settled for doing at that very moment.
The roar began from a position hunched over the steering wheel. The sheer force of the sound straightened his body until his head was cradled in the headrest and his arms were outstretched and straining against the confines of his compact car. Every inch of his body was extended with effort, yet loose with release as they reacted empathetically to the power emanating from his throat; originating from his heart. It was a scream of denial and defiance; pain and anguish; anger and outrage. Every emotion he had bottled up since the wedding had been announced burst free from his body. They flew forth in their new, cacophonous, physical forms, reverberating endlessly through the compact, black car. When the sound began to die away, he took a deep breath and began the process all over again so that all of his frustrations could be given voice.
After it was over he looked up at the car ceiling, entirely drained. He could hear himself breathing heavily to restore the oxygen that he had just expelled from his body. In his moment of physical weakness a thought crept into his mind. He didn't want to follow the crowd of well-dressed, eager attendees who were still streaming into the hotel. He had discovered earlier that standing next to them, his faked happiness and good intentions were revealed for what they truly were. The discrepancies would then proceed to incinerate him from the inside.
The only thing that prevented his hand from reaching up and reigniting his car ignition was a lone image of a possible scenario. In his mind, he could see Carly looking towards his empty, assigned seat with a worried expression on a face that should be beaming with happiness.
As Freddie closed his car door and began shuffling towards the hotel, he marveled over how unbalanced his love for Carly was. He was willing to endure an evening of soul-wracking torture just to keep a frown off of her face. It was her special day, however, and she was the most important person in the world to him. She deserved this, and he wasn't going to be the one to prevent her from having a perfect day.
For the second time, Freddie moved not on his own power, but rather under the momentum of a crowd's movement. It was the ideal mode of transportation considering that each step towards the building refreshed the idea of taking many more rapid ones in the opposite direction. With that option cut off from him by a rather large, dark-haired man behind him, the only thing occupying Freddie's mind were the same pesky thoughts that had been plaguing him for days; an unforgiving amalgamation of regrets, predictions, self-loathing, and pity. He was in the middle of a rather heart-rending recollection when the crowd he had been lagging behind dispersed, revealing the hotel lobby.
The hotel architect hadn't taken many liberties, following what appeared, to Freddie's untrained eye, to be the archetypal lobby for a ritzy hotel. In spite of its cliches, it still managed to impress the young man. Anyone who entered the building was immediately dwarfed by a multi-tiered water fountain that provided a constant, flowing curtain of water for the black, obsidian steps that led up to a marble statue of child-like figure joyfully raising its hands in the air. Curved staircases rose from either side of the fountain, connecting the ground level to an iron railway guarded second floor that overlooked the lobby, including the massive, mahogany front desk that was being manned by a unit of energetic workers dressed in an unassuming, sky and navy blue uniform.
Freddie's observations eventually led him to a black sign with replaceable white letters that announced that Carly's reception was being held in Grand Ballroom B. After a broad scan of the area, he noticed a sign above one of the staircases that read Grand Ballroom B. He gave himself a quick nod of confirmation before he took his first steps towards the stairs. That was when he was again halted by an amused, mocking voice. "You're just full of surprises today, Freddie."
He wasn't the least bit surprised this time to turn towards a nearby reclining chair and find Sam resting languidly with her slumped back propped up against the chocolate brown leather and her arms folded neatly against her stomach. He could tell from her eyes that she was in the mood to pick a fight. Sighing, he tiredly shuffled into the adjoining, identical chair as he questioned, "What do you mean?"
"Only the obvious," let off Sam after he seemed to have settled into his rigidly upright seating position. "You actually showed up for this shindig," she paused for a moment, as though she were organizing the list in her head. "You almost interrupted the wedding ceremony." She had emphasized the word almost and allowed her eyes to drift up towards his. He looked extremely uncomfortable, forcing a grin on the young woman's lips. "You almost had a heart attack." Again with the emphasis and rewarding pained expression. This time she allowed him ample time to recover from the sting before she finished, "And you showed up yet again."
The tone of Sam's words had shifted from mocking to something bordering respect at some point during her list. Freddie found himself alarmed by his unfamiliarity with her tone rather than the context of her words. His confusion held his tongue in check, so he sat staring at Sam as he struggled for an appropriate response.
Sam saved him from his mental stall by asking with a companionable lean forward, "So what's next?"
Freddie swallowed before answering, "I, I'm going to go to Grand Ballroom B."
The blonde rolled her eyes. "Well of course you are, but I'm talking about the embarrassing, entertaining stuff."
Freddie turned a blush-colored scowl in the blonde's direction. Sam was leaning forward, the corners of her lips turned upwards underneath laughing, blue eyes. She seemed to be enjoying his misery as usual. Narrowing his eyes, he declared, "I'm not going to do anything to ruin her night, Sam."
The faint echo of a smirk remained on her face even though she recognized the iron determination reinforcing Freddie's voice. Didn't the idiot realize that he had no other choice as far as Carly was concerned? He'd been lost to that girl since before she even knew him, which was in itself an insufferably long period of time. Sam's right elbow found its way to the armrest of her chair, allowing her to rest her tilted head against the palm of her right hand. "You're not even going to desperately declare your love for her one more time?"
"No," answered Freddie immediately, though without the resilience he had displayed earlier. His thoughts danced back and forth in his mind, weakening his resolve. He had wanted to do something like that earlier, but had fought off the urge. What good would it do, anyway? He used to tell her that daily to no avail. Wait, used to? When had he stopped declaring his love at every available opportunity?
"We'll see," taunted Sam as she hopped out of her seat. She was amused to find Freddie glaring up at her. She wondered briefly if he was upset because she seemed to want to put a damper on Carly's "special" day or because she had preempted one of his plans. A staring contest developed after Sam crossed her arms underneath her breasts and smirked haughtily down at the seated young man. Unfortunately for Freddie, it was more difficult to maintain a glare than a smirk. The difficulty combined with Sam's tenacious fighting spirit led to the inevitable conclusion of Freddie averting his eyes to focus on a nearby potted plant.
Freddie was rewarded for his participation in the short-lived contest with a sharp laugh and the sound of Sam's heeled feet sauntering away. His hand reached up to cover his frown. The blonde demon was really laying into him today. It almost felt like they were teenagers again; spending every available moment together for the sake of the show. And, he admitted to himself, to be close to Carly.
But those days had come and gone with an unfair speed. Before he could blink they were heading off to different colleges and only seeing each other during school vacations. Even those meetings were only for brief, treasured moments at a time. Carly and himself had always been either interning or working in their respective fields, and Sam had been keeping busy doing Sam Stuff (it was safer to not know what the consisted of). And then they had graduated and drifted even farther apart, corresponding only through sporadic e-mails: all of which he had back-up copies of on multiple hard drives. He physically shook his head over how stalker-like that last thought had felt. It wasn't as though he re-read the e-mails in his free time. It was just that the unedited pages of text were reminders that he was still in her thoughts. They had given him hope for his plan of becoming a success and using his newfound confidence and wealth to come back home and ask Carly out properly. The last e-mail had sent that dream crashing back down to reality, however, because attached to the e-mail had been a jpeg of her wedding invitation.
He gritted his teeth to ward away the wave of self-pity that was threatening to drown away his logic. Carly was his dream girl with good reason. If Freddie wanted to, he could write an entire book extolling her virtues, and on top of that she was an actual Seattle celebrity. Of course other people would notice her qualities. If anything he should be surprised over how long it had taken for a man of her caliber to appear and swoop her off of her feet. Because, he acknowledged with a darkening mindset, he and Carly weren't on the same level. They never really had been. He had been doomed from that first time they met. From that first moment his heart skipped a beat. This was the universe as it should be: with Carly beyond his reach. But why did it have to hurt so severely?
A burst of raucous laughter flew down from the second floor, freeing Freddie from his paralyzing thoughts. Seizing the opportunity, he immediately stood up and began to straighten out his clothing. He would have plenty of time to bemoan his fate after the wedding was over. He had an important role to play today, one he had been playing for all of his life. That of the supportive best friend.
As he began to move towards the staircase, the implication of his title reopened like an old battle scar. The pain stemmed from the fact that he had always wanted so much more. He hadn't felt like this in a long time, probably because his career had been moving along in the right direction. His secret goal had seemed within reach. But now that that hope had been dashed, the pain resurged with vicious vitality. Not having to deal with it on a daily basis appeared to have weakened his resistance towards it.
It hurt so badly that he had to squelch it with a sudden vow. One that made more sense with each step he took towards the reception.
Tonight would be the last night he played his lifelong role. Afterwards, he would cut off all ties from Carly and allow her to lead the happy life she deserved.
Author's Note: This took a long time to come out, and I even denied that it ever would happen to a few readers. It looks like I lied, and I apologize for that. My apology has taken the form of this chapter. The main reason that this is happening is that I recently envisioned enough of this story to write it out in a couple of sittings if I'm in the writing mood (It doesn't happen as often as I like, so don't hold your breath for it). Expect at least three more chapters. Also, I have decided that by the end, this story will be Creddie flavored. Seddie shippers have been warned.
Thanks for reading, and see you next time!
Falling Further