The Champions' Wedding [3] » WWE

Chapter 29

Saturday: Wedding Day?!

I feel someone shake me as I lay in bed. "Come on, Asher." It's Brie. "It's time to get up and get ready."

"Yeah, you can't sleep all day." That's Nikki. Of course the twins were sent in to do damage control and try to get me out of bed. I'm not feeling it.

"Didn't you hear," I ask them from underneath the covers. "The wedding's off."

"That's not true, so that's why you should get up and get pampered because it's your big day."

I sit up, tossing the comforter off of me. "Look around. The groom is nowhere to be found."

"That's because it's bad luck for him to see you right now," Nikki tries to reason to make me feel better. It doesn't work.

"Stop," I tell her, glancing between her and Brie. "It's pointless. There's no wedding, so you all should just go back home and enjoy the rest of your Saturday."

I try to lay back down but both of them grab my arms. "Guys," I start. Brie shushes me.

"We are not going home and we aren't about to let you feel sorry for yourself." She lets go of my arm and crosses hers over her chest. "The Asher we know wouldn't let this keep her down, even if she had to go out there and marry some complete stranger."

"I don't want to marry a stranger," I mutter.

Nikki releases me too, taking some steps back. "Brie's right, Asher," she says, ignoring me. "Seth might be gone but if you show how bad it's messed you up, things are only going to get much worse."

They both have a point. Even though I still feel terrible about everything, maybe if I start to look on whatever bright side is left this mess will get better. Both of them continue to stare at me with menacing looks, as if they'll jump me if I dare to say no to getting ready. "Fine," I finally let out, smiling slightly at their wide smiles.

Nikki claps her hands together excitedly, pulling me up and shoving me lightly to the bathroom. "You go shower and I'll go get the makeup team."

- - - - -

I stare blankly into the mirror as the stylist finishes up my hair, not recognizing the person that stares back. It's me, obviously, but it doesn't look like me. Or I should say it doesn't feel like me.

There's a sad look in my eyes that no amount of make-up can hide, and I feel like a lost cause. Like the failing student who was presented with plenty of opportunities to get their grades up, but instead of accepting them they took them all for granted and flunked out of school.

I'm that foolish child. I'm a kid again, but not in the good, fun-loving, preschool way that involves recess and nap time.