Eternal Love on the Soundtrack

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖊 - 𝕯𝖊𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖆

I stumbled into my bedroom, drunker than a geeky nerd at a frat party trying to look cool. Each clumsy step toward my bed felt like a scene from a fairy tale, yet reality started to creep in as the adrenaline began to fade. When I finally flopped onto my bed, the quietness became louder, and it was calming, a stark contrast to the crazy celebration I had left behind.

I just lay there in my wrinkled, stained wedding dress, allowing the silence to greet and engulf me. I took my sparkly, tall heels off my aching feet and carelessly threw them into a corner of my room. That's what they get for hurting my delicate feet.

Oh, God. I'm going to have a hangover like no other tomorrow.

Tomorrow... the thought made me nervous and scared. My wild presence at my wedding definitely raised some eyebrows, widened some eyes, and dropped some jaws, especially because everyone thought I would act like the perfect little bride. Hell no.

I should've, though. If only I hadn't drunk more alcohol than a toxic father, then I wouldn't be hiding away in my mother's house. For now, no one can yell at me but I know I have to come out of hiding eventually. And I already know that when I do, my husband, Jimmy, will be the first to angrily bark at me like a rabid dog.

I'm already used to Jimmy's yelling. Because he's so much older than me, he thinks he's in control and can yell at me whenever he pleases. I never speak or talk back when he yells, just keep silent and obey like a lapdog.

He would always smirk at me whenever I followed his rules after an intense session of yelling. Little does he know, however, that his days are numbered. I'm just counting the days until he breathes his last, and trust me, that day will arrive faster than anyone will process.

Usually, Jimmy's shouting is unprovoked and unwarranted, but this time around, I can see why Jimmy would be angry. I mean, the amount of senselessness I partook in deserves to be scolded. Just thinking about the insane event makes me cringe. I buried my head in my pillow in an attempt to remove the horrible memory from my mind but it didn't work.

Oh, how badly I want to take out a cigarette and light it. I want to feel the thick smoke in my lungs relieving my stress. Unfortunately, I stupidly didn't think to put one or two packs of the cancer sticks in my purse. Shit. Now I have no way of forgetting the humiliation that had taken place hours before. I might as well recount the story until I fall asleep.

The event seemed perfect. It was a picturesque outdoor venue, and the sun was shining on formal guests of high incomes buzzing with excitement. The ceilings were high, the floor a beautiful marble pattern, and the costly decorations were on-point, intricately placed to create only the best, most opulent sense of luxury.

I felt like that girl. All those rich geezers and crones were here for me. Unfortunately for me, as the wedding continued, it was obvious that I was a little woozy.

See, before the wedding, I had secretly run off to a bar to get drunk. I knew there was no way that I would securely go through the wedding sober. I thought I needed to get drunk to feel secure in a room full of so many important giants, while I, a mere fly, could easily be swatted away. I thought wrong.

I came to the bar prepared. My poofy wedding dress was stuffed in a large bag around my shoulder. That bar was the best part of my day. I was having fun drinking, talking to random creeps, and dancing my ass off, but time was running out. Two minutes before 17:30, the time I was scheduled to appear at the wedding, I suddenly realized that I was getting married today.

My heart jumped, and I drunkenly ran out of the bar in my short skimpy dress and tall sparkly heels before calling over a cab to drive me to the location of the wedding ceremony, a large and beautiful cathedral that was recently renovated. 

After a thirty-minute ride, I finally arrived at the cathedral. I—even while not in my right mind—knew that I could never walk into the cathedral looking like a slut that wanted "sex with a priest" checked off her bucket list. I would've gotten struck with a lightning bolt if I ever tried that foolishness. So instead of walking into the cathedral to change, my brain figured that if no one was around, I could just change outside of the cathedral.

It was the most awkward moment of my life, especially knowing that the trees were looking at me. The poor things couldn't move their branches to cover their eyes, and I felt totally exposed. Fortunately, the awkwardness ended when I finally managed to get my wedding dress on in a little less than ten minutes.

I can't lie, Jimmy really splurged on me when it came to the dress. It was stunning, sparkly, and poofy with this large, plunging neckline that threatened to make a nip slip every time I jumped, just the way I like it.

I threw my short dress into the grass and stumbled into the cathedral. I needed to trash that old thing anyway.

The wedding was a mess.

Even though I was about an hour late, everyone expected the wedding to go smoothly. However, because I had drunk more than enough to kill a newborn, that was impossible. I struggled to look like I was sane. I must've seemed like a crippling addict.

When it was time for the vows, my husband smiled, and he looked even more like a white raisin than usual.

"Deyana Cabrera," he said, butchering my last name with his thick Southern accent, "from the moment we met, you've brought so much light into my life. I never knew an old folk like me could ever be loved again, but along you came. I promise to support you, to encourage you, and to stand by you in every challenge we face. I vow to laugh with you, to comfort you in times of sorrow—"

I stomped my foot. "But I'm feeling sorrowful right now and you're not comforting me! I hate this! I hate everything!"

The crowd gasped unanimously as if they were watching a drama movie, which was just the wake-up call I needed to stop being a dumbass. 

"Just kidding!" I smiled, but the atmosphere was already ruined.

I fidgeted with my hands. This was going to be a long night.

After the vows, a palpable wave of uneasiness washed over me as Jimmy and I stood together, hand in hand. Jimmy seemed a bit nervous, too. The officiant, who smiled awkwardly but probably only wanted to frown, pronounced us husband and wife, and the guests erupted into cheers and applause.

My stomach churned as Jimmy leaned in for our first kiss as a married couple. The kiss is always a sweet moment, a promise of a beautiful future together. However, the only thing this kiss promised was the fact that I was going to brush my teeth and tongue until my arm fell off after the wedding. As we pulled away, friends and family showered us with confetti and flowers. To this hour, I'm still finding little bits of confetti in my hair.

I frowned. Jimmy's white lips reminded me of the mini tteok-bokki I had tried at the bar.

Jimmy took my hand as we made our way down the aisle, and I saw that he noticed my awkward movements. Normally when drunk, I feel as if I'm floating. However, for some reason, this time, I felt like an obese, uncooperative whale was strapped to each of my feet.

As I took another step, I fell right in front of everyone flat on my face! Unfortunately, the abrupt fall made Jimmy also tumble to the ground! If he were about forty years younger, he may have been able to catch me in his arms, and that would've been hot. But he was an old man, so his muscles didn't exactly work the way everyone would've wanted them to.

My stomach was doing backflips at this point. It would've gotten a gold medal if it tried out for the Olympics. I was breaking out in a sweat, and I didn't see how this wedding could go any worse, but it did.