Chapter Three

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"I object."

Everyone was staring. No one knew how to react other than gasps and looks of horror at him as he stood there with his head lowered. Roman's eyes were wide and his heart was racing in his chest. Had he heard what he'd thought he'd heard?

"V-Virgil what-"

"Please, don't speak," the anxious emo said, not looking at him as he stepped further and further away from the altar. He was getting a head start for when he'd leave, stepping down onto the isle. He laughed bitterly, reaching up to wipe at his eyes as they welled up with unshed tears. "I know that what I'm doing might possibly be the shittiest thing I could ever do as the best man at your wedding. I'm really sorry, I'm a complete asshole, aren't I?"

Virgil laughed bitterly again as he looked up at Roman's confused expression. "Look, I know that after this none of you will ever want to see or talk to me again, especially you, Roman. I get that, and I know what I'm signing up for," he said with a heavy sigh.

"I object to your wedding because I've been in love with you for about fifteen years," he said, like ripping off a bandaid. "Since we were thirteen, Roman... and I never said a word... the number of times I wanted to is uncountable; and now I can't stop thinking about where we might be if I had. What if opening my stupid mouth back then meant I would be the one standing across from you, wearing those rings?"

The princely groom's eyes were glossy, but with emotion no one could place. He sighed again as he looked down. "I know I've failed you, and everyone close to us by failing the simple task of supporting you as your best man," he said, voice heavy as he took another few steps back toward the doors. "But you said yourself, we've only got one life, and playing it safe is what got me here in the first place, watching the man of my dreams marry the man of his dreams."

Roman couldn't look at his fiancé. He couldn't look at his friends. He could only stare at Virgil, numb on the inside as conflicting feelings warred inside his skin. The man standing across from him was in fact the man of his dreams, and he wore the rings to prove it; but that man in the black tuxedo, with that purple rose, standing in the aisle was something else. His first dream.

What was he supposed to do? What do you do when a dream you let die suddenly comes true? What do you do when it comes true on the day your new dream was to come true? Do you ignore it, and stick with your new dream that you wanted? Or do you accept the old dream, the one you wanted more than anything, the one you thought would never come true as it does right before your eyes?

"Look, I can't make any decision for you, and if I were you, it'd be no contest right now," Virgil said, making Roman focus back in on him. "But I'm not you, and for all I know, all you're thinking right now is how much you hate me. You could want nothing more than for me to get the hell out of your life and never come back, and I would totally do it if you want me to."

He took a deep breath, looking into Roman's eyes from where he stood. "Or you could do something no one in this room thinks or expects you to do," he said, shaking his head to demonstrate the disbelief. "I'm going to walk out of this church. I'm going to wait until midnight tonight. If you come talk to me before then, I'll know what you've chosen."

The prince-like groom was standing there with his mouth hanging open slightly as their eyes remained locked. "You'll know where to find me, Roman."

Holding his gaze for a moment longer before turning and walking to the door. He turned one last time to him. "I'm sorry," Virgil said, and left the church, leaving the groom of the wedding he'd supposed to have been the best man for staring after him.

Virgil looked at his phone again, checking the time. It read 11:54 PM, and with every minute that went by his heart lurched. Part of him was panicking, cursing, screaming as he asked himself why he'd done it; yet another part of him was softly murmuring to him it would be okay no matter what happened. He'd made peace with whether or not Roman showed up before midnight. He knew the consequences, and in all honesty, wasn't sure if he'd been able to look any of them in the eye after this if Roman chose his fiancé. He was okay with walking out of their lives, letting them he happier without him in them to ruin it all.

So he stood there on that bridge, looking at the small river that ran through the park as the moon and stars shimmered back at him in its reflection. He leaned on the rail with his eyes closed as a cool wind softly blew at his hair. He was at peace as he recalled why he was there.

It had been nice out that day. Virgil had been having one of the worst days of his life as he ran through the park, sobbing. He'd been in middle school then, thirteen years old to be exact. That day he'd had enough. He climbed onto the railing of that bridge, steeling himself to jump and end it all, but there was a voice.

"If you're about to do what I think you're going to, there better be a damn good reason for it."

Virgil had turned his head in shock, finding a boy his age standing on the bridge behind him, watching him with cautious eyes. He froze, like a deer in the headlights. "Who are you?" he asked him. The anxious emo could only respond with a head shake. "My name's Roman, could you get down from there and tell me yours?"

He'd offered him a hand, and Virgil, breaking down into sobs, had taken it, allowing for Roman to pull him down and close to his chest as he hugged him.

Now, Virgil let out a breath, opening his eyes slightly as he looked out at that river he'd once been so ready to jump into. His phone now read 11:59 PM, and he smiled sadly, knowing what Roman had chosen.

"You didn't have a good reason."

The sound of his voice alone gave him chills as his head snapped in his direction. The clock hit 12:00 AM, and in the moonlight, Roman stood there, looking around at their surroundings. Virgil was silent as the prince-like character took a few more steps toward him. He hadn't expected Roman to come. Why had he? Was this a sick joke?

"You didn't have a good reason for jumping off this bridge," he said, standing next to him as he placed a hand on the railing. He glanced at him. "You weren't going to do it if I didn't show up, right?"

Virgil shook his head; he hadn't intended to jump if he didn't come. He had planned to go home and cry a lot as he searched for a new apartment somewhere outside of Florida. He couldn't meet his eyes, until he put his other hand on the railing. Virgil's eyes widened in realization as his heart raced.

Roman wasn't wearing the rings.

The prince-like man caught his look, smiling a little as he moved that hand to rest it on Virgil's. He gasped, looking up at Roman with pure shock. "W-Why? Y-You were m-marrying the m-man of your d-dreams an-nd aft-ter what I-I did-"

"Virgil, you don't get it," Roman cut him off. He closed his hand around Virgil's. His eyes were wide and glossy as he looked into his.

"You were my first dream."

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