What If – Vegas
Her mind was hazy, fuzzy and pounding. A sure sign she'd drunk to much the night before.
The fuzzy view of the room swam into clear view. This was defiantly not her hotel room and she had no clue whose it was.
To start of with it looked too expensive to be her hotel room – hers was a room – this was a suite. An expensive posh suite.
She turned to the body next to on his front, he was not identifiable. But she knew she'd seen that back before that music note inked in black on his shoulder.
She reached out a hand to trace it and that's when she saw it, a gold band on her hand. Alcohol made people do silly things sometimes – especially in Vegas.
She was dating the most amazing man. Now she had probably cheated on him by marrying some stranger in a drunken haze of lust and spontaneity.
A groan came from beside her breaking her thoughts.
The back her fingers were so close to touching moved and her finger tips brushed the surface. The body stiffed and rolled over.
"Brie?"
"Troy?"
She had married her boyfriend. What luck, what sheer luck. It was a bit soon but it would have happened in the next twenty four months.
She cuddled into his side as he pulled her close.
"I was going to ask you next week," he said, passing her a box.
"Well you can ask me and we can get married for our friends and families," she said.
"Who don't know were dating," said Troy.
Gabriella nodded "Um yeah and the world."
"Well that's what happens when you date a famous popstar. We'll work it out when we come to it," said Troy.
"Overcome any obstacle?" asked Gabriella.
"Any and every?" answered Troy.
They both grabbed the discarded champagne flutes off there besides tables and toasted.
"To our future."
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Gabriella Somerfield