Aurelia
“Oh my gods!” Squeals Enea. She covers her mouth in surprise when she sees my wedding dress. “It’s delectable!”
“It was probably made by someone on opioids.” I sniff, pulling at the lacey sleeves. Little pearl bobbles have been sewn into the seams, but Lolli-N slaps my hand away before I can tug one off.
“Don’t touch.” She snaps, taking me by the arm “and stop dawdling. The ceremony starts in five minutes.”
“This is too soon! I’m not mentally prepared. Wait!”
She ignores my pleas and drags me down the hall as Enea follows close behind, laughing and taking pictures with her phone.
Once we’re in the elevator, Enea shoves the camera in my face. At first, I think it’s to take a selfie – until I see the livestream chat in the corner.
“Hashtag, my sister’s marrying a dude older than all of your grandpas!” She chuckles and pops her head in the corner screen to stick her tongue out.
“For fuck’s sake!” I wail, “have some mercy!”
“The captain is likely older than your great grandpas as well.” Lolli-N interrupts, and grabs Enea’s phone straight out of her hand. “Oh, hello, what an odd setup. What are all these messages in the corner?”
“It’s a livestream!” Enea tries to snatch it back, but Lolli-N is too quick for her.
“’Have you all seen pics of Illlion? I’d smash him too.’” Lolli-N raises her eyebrows and looks back at us with a confused expression. Then can’t help herself and starts to read out more of the comments:
“’He’s a 10 but he’s an escaped asylum patient 😭.’”
“’He’s a 10 but he dresses like a 10-year-old 💀.”
“’LMFAOOASDIASOJSD.’”
“’That dress is giving fruit loops vibes.”
“’FRUIT LOOPS FOR LYFE.’”
“Yo where Mr.Marillion at????????’”
“’Slayy queen!!! 😘 🤩 ✨ 💅 💅 💅’”
“’She ate and left no crumbs 🤪.”
“’He’s a 100 but he is literally 100 years old 💀 💀 💀 💀.”
“’ASDHASDADSJAJSDHASJDKAS CHAT IS THIS REAL.’”
“’Bro why is the robot looking staring into the camera like that.”
“’Is the metal lady okay?’”
“’Is that Marillion’s butler?????’”
At seeing the last comment, Lolli-N’s face melts from laughter into fury, “I am not a butler!”
She throws the phone back to Enea, “turn off the video.”
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Enea pretends to put the phone away – but I can see the livestream is still on, and the camera peeking out of her handbag. Great.
The elevator bell dings just as the tension can’t get any worse, and the door slides open to an expansive hall.
A wave of overly excited music hits me, and the flashing lights blind us for a moment before the shock settles.
The ceiling, much like that in the cafeteria, extends to the stars (quite literally, you can see them from here). Banners and bunting hang along every wall. It’s a bit difficult to actually read the signs though; there’s more confetti and glitter in the air than oxygen. It’s like a heavy rainstorm of sparkles.
Pulsing disco lights send colourful circles dancing over the crowd, and glints off the glitter in the air. As everyone slowly begins realize I’m here, the lights drag across the crowd to rest on me.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” Comes a light voice, and everyone turns instantly.
There he is, Illion the Marillion, dressed in pink, standing on the table next to the wedding cake, with a smile so cheery you can’t help but smile back.
Pink suit, pink jacket with pink buttons. Pink boots with blue frills, and tiny gold trinkets dangling off them. And of course, his oversized crimson glasses that obscure half his face.
Tell me you’re wacky without telling me you’re wacky.
“Welcome aboard!” He exclaims, shoving his glasses up. “You’re all looking very nice tonight. Especially you, Aurelia.”
“Damn, that boy is smitten.” Enea whispers; I resist the urge to roll my eyes,
“Might as well get on with it then!” Illion throws his hands up in a grand gesture towards the furthest side of the room – where a priest is waiting by a makeshift altar. “Then we can get straight to the party!”
The crowd cheers loudly, and the confetti machines start up again, flooding the air with even more puffs of glitter.
“I’m not ready for this.” I whisper, half to myself, half to anyone willing to listen. “I can’t. I can’t. I really can’t. I’m going to fucking die.”
“It’s only a few words, then you’re done.” Lolli-N squeezes my hand encouragingly, leading me towards the altar. “Illion doesn’t bite.”
“What if she wants him to though?” Enea grabs me by the other hand.
“Not. Helping.” I grimace, my eyes scrunched shut.
“All you have to say is ‘I do’.” Lolli-N keeps pulling me forwards, and I have no choice but to follow. “Almost there. It only takes a minute. Then it’s over.”
“Okay, okay.” I open my eyes again and find myself standing in front of the altar.
Illion is a few feet across from me, and he gives me two thumbs up and the most awkward smile I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Weakly, I smile.
He seems decent, I just hope he isn’t too fucking weird. But it’s kinda dumb to think someone who Captains the Marillion could be normal.
Whatever. He’s cute enough, I guess. I’m sure everything will be fine.
Maybe.
The priest reads off the vows, Illion says his, and Lolli-N was right – once it comes to me, it only takes a few seconds to say them, and then the crowd erupts into cheering.
Before I can even take another breath, Enea’s beside me, phone out, snapping selfies and dragging me towards the drinks table.
“Tequila!” She shrieks, snatching two champagne glasses filled with…. Something….
That was it. That was the wedding. It’s done. I’ve done it.
“Auri! Try some!” She shoves a glass in my face, but I push it away.
We’re married.
Legally bound until death.
Until death.
It’s only temporary, right? They said it was. But what if he refuses to sign the divorce papers once we get to the Central Planets?
Oh, shit.
“Enea, this is only for sixth months, right?” I clutch at her arm, staring up at her in what can only be horrified desperation.
“But he’s hotttt.” Her words her slurring – bitch only had three drinks in a minute, she can’t be drunk already!
“Fuck.” I mutter and let her go.
“Everything okay?” Lolli-N rolls up next to me, her doll-like eyes have grown a little, probably to invoke a sort of cuteness effect from the person she is speaking to. A calming mechanism. “You look a bit sick, Aurelia.”
“I just…I just…” I can’t focus. My mind is all over the place, a buzzing like a hornet’s nest fills my ear. “I’m married to…to him.”
My eyes dart across the hall, to my new husband, sitting on the edge of a table, swinging his legs as he chats with a million people.
“Yes?” Lolli-N tilts her head at me, “you were aware of this when you signed the contract? It was only mentioned 258 times to be precise?”
“I know I just…” I trail off, “I’m not really sure what to think.”
She shrugs, “then don’t. Have a drink, eat some cake, ask him to dance – he won’t say no to a dance.”
“A dance.” I cover my face with my hands. I want to cry. I want to start running in circles screaming. And I also want to dance.
“A dance.” Lolli-N repeats and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Have fun while you still can.”
I take a deep breath and meet her gaze, “alright then. Cake and dance it is.”