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“You look fucking beautiful, babe,”Marina says, with tears in her eyes. She’s wearing a baby blue bridesmaid’s dress, her hair tied back into a neat bun, her wrists decked out with diamond bracelets. I’m positive that the outfit and the jewelry are courtesy of a combination of the money Marina pulled in for her role in that indie film, its trailer sweeping all over social media, and her rich boyfriend’s bank account, the guy seemingly not caring or noticing when Marina spent a few thousand dollars here and there.
“Thanks.” I smile back at her, nervously shaking out my arms, the white silk of the wedding gown slipping along my skin. I don’t know why I’m so anxious about the ceremony, since everything already looks so perfect. Rhys found someone to officiate the wedding, a younger woman with streaks of pink in her hair, and enough tattoos on her arms to rival Rhys’s sleeves. Van was in charge of theproductionof it all, meaning the music, the staging, and the photographs, even though we’d all agreed it’d be better to keep the photos to ourselves since we didn’t want our romance to overshadow the band’s success.
For his part, Cameron was in charge of general transportation, making sure everyone and everything got here in one piece, making sure everyone’s clothes got here in one piece, too.
Rhys leaped into action when it came to arranging all the flower delivery vans and the caterers, which was like seeing a whole new side of him, one that’s deadly serious about everything.
It sent butterflies to my stomach just then, thinking of being married to this group of incredible guys, thinking about how many women would kill to be in my place, to get to walk down the aisle with all of my soulmates. And after I take in a few deep breaths, I feel a sense of calm wash right over me, my arms now resting by my side.
Just then, a sweet melody floats through the dressing room, its sound seeming to emanate from the main ceremony area. Marina flashes me a bright smile before she takes me by the hand, leading me toward the other side of the building, not stopping until we’re steps away from the white carpet that’s been laid out across the main floor.
“I love you, babe,” Marina whispers, as she loudly sniffles. “And I swear to God, if any of these guys turn out to be total assholes, just let me know, okay? We can go toilet paper their houses. Or burn them down. Or slash their car tires. Whatever you need, okay? You just have to say the word—”
“Thanks, Marina.” I interrupt her laundry list of crimes she’d be willing to commit on my behalf, right before I pull her into a tight embrace. “I love you, too. And thank you for everything. Back in high school. In L.A. Everything.”
“It’s us forever, babe.” She sniffles again. “Don’t forget that, okay? Even when you’re all happy and married.”
“Never,” I assure her, gently breaking off our embrace. The music continues to drift out of the main wedding hall. Marina offers me a final nod and steps through its doorway. A few more notes swim through the air before I walk into the main wedding hall too, my breath hitching in my throat as I spot Rhys, Van, and Cameron standing near the officiant, each of them dressed up to the nines.
I then start to make my way over to them, each step I take down the aisle somehow the most importantandthe easiest decision I’ll ever make in my life. When I reach the men I love standing at the end of the aisle, I feel myself smiling from ear to ear, the expression so stuck on my features that I wonder if my face is going to be sore from the sheer happiness of it all.
“Hey, darling,” Rhys whispers, as soon as I’m standing in front of him. “You look beautiful.”
“I hope you like everything, princess,” Van whispers too. “I just wanted you to be happy on your special day.”
“You look perfect, Alyssa,” Cameron adds, his smile just as big as mine. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“…I’m sure you all know that exchanging words before the ceremony isn’t very typical,” the officiant says with a smile on her face. “But I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that no one here is too concerned with staying in thetypicalbox.”
“You’ve got that right.” Rhys offers her a wink.
And I let out a loud laugh in response, hearing Marina’s own laughter echoing mine from her place standing beside me. I manage to collect myself in the next few minutes, long enough to find myself married to the best three husbands I ever could’ve asked for, three men who completed me even when I didn’t know I needed to be completed. And as we exchange vows and rings and promises of forever and ever, I know that every word of it is true.
Because while we all may have started out as just a band put together by the record label, we’re so much more than that now. We’re a family that no one can break apart, not even people who want to see us fall flat on our faces, who want to see us lose everything we worked so hard for. And even though our initial bond was created through music, the bond we have right now is one built on love and trust and always being there for each other.
And just like that, I’m living in another dream come true, one that’s never going to end.
EPILOGUE
Cameron
Waking up in the tangle of bedsheets, I turn my head expectantly, anticipating seeing Alyssa’s sleeping face next to mine. Instead, her pillow is vacant. I touch the pillow to see if it’s still warm, and it’s cool to the touch.
“Alyssa?” I call out softly. I don’t want to wake up Rhys or Van, who are sprawled out on the bed too.
In our new house, we still have our own rooms, just in case we have to deal with a snooping visitor and because we just want to keep our situation special and private from the press, so why take any risks? But we generally sleep in a puppy pile. We often fall asleep after worshipping our Alyssa for a few hours. To that end, we did decide to splurge on the biggest bed we could find. It’s worth it for the times when we are not traveling. Being together in L.A. is special for us and why not make the most of it?
Rhys mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep. I am disturbing him so I decide to get up and search for her instead. I carefully extricate myself from the sheets and check around the hallway, peek into the other rooms, before I go to the bathroom door, where I hear faint retching.
“Alyssa! Are you okay? Let me in?”
“I’m fine!” I hear a muffled cry. “I’m fi—”
Immediately the retching starts again.
“I’m coming in,” I say, and as I close my hand on the doorknob, I’m already starting to go over in my head the things that we had for dinner last night, contrasting and comparing, figuring out if she ate anything we didn’t, or whether we are all going to get some kind of food poisoning or stomach bug. The doorknob opens easily. “Alyssa, I’m sorry to barge in! I’m worried.”
