AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My heart races. My vision swims.
“…join together in the precious union of marriage.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. My dress is too tight. This isn’t me. What am I doing? Why did I agree to this? How did I think that going along with this was the only option I had? I want Rogue. I just want to be with Rogue.
“Are you all right, Love?” Adira whispers to me.
“No.” My voice comes out tiny. Only Adira and my husband-to-be hear me. “I can’t do this. I can’t. Oh God, I can’t.”
“Just hang on,” Adira says. “Don’t faint on me now.”
“If anyone has a reason these two shouldn’t get married, you should come forward.”
A whisper goes through the crowd. It takes all my control not to crane my neck and search every nook and cranny of the room for a way out. Ben offers me an encouraging grin from where he sits with some girl I don’t know. He texted that he was bringing someone to watch me say I do. Like a first date. Who does that? This is not a spectator sport. This is literally my worst nightmare.
The doors at the back of the chapel swing open. They thud against the wall hard enough that it echoes over the silent crowd.
I jump at the sudden noise. My heart rate kicks up as I turn toward the entrance.
Anticipation pours from the people in the room. The energy ramps up as all gazes swing to the vacant space.
Hush.
One breath.
Two. They sound so loud in my ears.
Drag queens fill the space with a flurry of fabulous and bright colors. Glitter and feathers and sequins and big hair.
“We’re here to save the day from this traditional and boring wedding, darlings,” Ermine Beaverhousen calls out.
Ivanna Bey Yaluva,Celeste Le-Coq,and Magnolia Clitterbean whoop and holler.
The others pull Charlie’s Angels type poses as up-tempo music blasts through the sound system.
“Ready?” Adira asks.
“Ready.” I can barely get the word out, but I am so ready for this to be over.
The troupe storms the stage.
We’re not out of the woods yet, but the focus is no longer fully on me. Bright colors and patterns swirl around me as the queens surround me and attempt to free me from my groom.
He doesn’t let go. His fingers stay locked around my wrist. His jaw hardens. Security descends from the corners of the room.
I’m the rope in this tug of war and both sides intend to win. I’m shuffled a few steps one way then pulled back the other.
The music crashes into sudden silence at the same time my dress rips. The sound of fabric being ripped is amplified by Adira holding the microphone he took from the officiant.
The crowd gasps. The men in black freeze in place.
My groom steps back and the drag queens surround me. The fabric unspools as I’m spun and spun and spun. I focus on a point on the ceiling and lift my hands above my head as the skirt of my white gown morphs into a rainbow of glittery gauze and feathers and beads by premier designer Danica Garfield. It’s so short in front it sticks out like a tutu and reveals the garter high up on my thigh and my ruffled lace panties before flowing into a bustled train at the back.
Glitter rains down from above. I stick out my ass like Adira made me practice five bazillion times this morning and fake a gasp as bits of sparkle stick to my skin.
The crowd stamps and cheers. Ben sticks his fingers in his mouth and wolf whistles. His date claps.
The drag queens make a show of encircling me and fixing my makeup and hair. My lips are made bolder. My wig is adjusted so the magenta and aqua threaded through it now pops. I blink but the glitter sticks to my lashes.
