Vegas Wedding

She was slowly becoming aware of the massive headache building at the back of her head. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just knock herself back out. The bright sunshine was starting to hurt her eyes even though they were closed so she turned on her side and cuddled her face into her pillow.

That’s when the shower turned off and her head jerked up, causing the lightheadedness and wooziness to strike hard. She clutched her head and leaned her elbows on the bed, trying to remember the night before with no recollection in sight.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, please, please, please don’t tell me I crawled back to Neil last night, please, she screamed inside her head, over the loud pounding that hurt like hell. She had a bad feeling that she had done just that though, gone back to the boy that just kept making her chest hurt. The bathroom door opened while she was still cradling her head from the pain.

“Good morning, love.” The voice surprised her. One, because it wasn’t her fiancé’s and two, because it was a lot cheerier then it should have been. She now remembered running into Brendon last night, after she’d already had a few drinks, and then going out after for more drinks.

“Uh, Brendon?” She gave a small smile as she looked up. He was standing right next to the bed now with nothing but a towel on, water beads dripping from his hair down his chest. She had to close her eyes and look away to keep focus. He didn’t notice the slight blush creeping on her cheeks because he was too distracted with the expression she’d first had.

“You don’t remember.” He guessed and when she nodded meekly he just grinned and chuckled lowly. “Oh, you are going to love this.” He shook his head and walked over to his dresser to grab some clothes.

“Love what?” She questioned as she took in how well acquainted he was with the room, and also realizing she wasn’t in her hotel room. Brendon stood with his clothes over his arm and stared at her for a few minutes, trying to find the right way to say things.

“Just take a good look at your left hand.” He grinned, trying to keep his joy in check so as not to give too much away, and then walked back into the bathroom to change. He was buttoning up his pants when he heard her scream and then start laughing hysterically. He was surprised when the door opened to the bathroom and there she stood in his flannel button up shirt he’d been wearing last night with the goofiest grin on her face that he’d seen on her since he met her.

“I got married in Vegas!” She squealed and raised her left hand to show him, even though he already examined it on her finger this morning.

“We got married in Vegas.” He nodded and grinned wide at her amazing smile as she eyed the ring. Then her eyes opened wider, if possible, and her mouth dropped opened. He felt his stomach drop at her expression. He thought she was going to love it; he was counting on her loving it, not regretting it.

“Oh shit.” She muttered and his chest ached. “Oh shit.”

“Um,” He wanted to tell her that it was okay, that they could get the marriage annulled, but he didn’t want to annul it. He couldn’t find the words because he didn’t want them to come true.

“I have to go back to the hotel and tell everyone I married a stranger.” She huffed and rubbed her forehead. “I need a fucking aspirin.” He chuckled uneasily. She hadn’t mentioned divorce or anything close to it, but she had called him a stranger.

“I’ll get you some. OJ or pop?” He went for the door, still shirtless, and her eyes started to wander again.

“Pop.” She crossed her arms and waited until he’d closed the door behind him before she examined the ring again, keeping her excited squeals to a minimum. It wasn’t the classic high school ring. In fact it kind of looked like a ring from a bubble gum machine. She was freaking out about having to tell everyone back at the hotel, but she was also unnerved. She had been preparing herself for marriage, just not the whole Mrs. Urie part. “Mrs. Urie,” she giggled uncontrollably, “oh my god.” Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again. She turned toward it with a huge grin, expecting Brendon to come as a savoir with medicine.

“I found your laundry mixed in with mine again, Bren,” the red head stopped in her tracks and her mouth hung open for a second before she recomposed. “Well, you’re not Brendon.” The girl smiled politely and entered the room further to place a basket of clean clothes on the bed she was still sitting on. She pulled self-consciously at the bottom of the flannel shirt, wishing it was longer since it was the only thing she had on at the moment. She’d been too excited when she found the ring on her finger to worry about dressing up properly. “I’m Michelle.” The red head introduced herself after she’d placed a pile of fresh clothes on the bed.

“Manda.” She felt ridiculous and ashamed. Of course he would have a girlfriend, a pretty, perky girlfriend. There was a sudden glum to her mood. He hadn’t mentioned a divorce, and she had been counting on not having one, but then that was probably the sensible thing. A divorce.

“Nice to meet you.” Michelle nodded and then left the room with her basket, leaving the brunette blundering in confusion. His girlfriend was oddly fine with her wearing his shirt.

“Sorry about her.” Brendon came back into the room with an annoyed roll of the eyes as he shut the door with his foot. “She’s still new to the place so the privacy lines are a bit blurred to her.” He noticed her grim nod as she accepted his apology and took the small white pills and glass he handed her. “So, what’s first on the agenda?” He picked nervously at the sheets while he waited for her to swallow.

“First is to see if this,” she held her left hand up and wiggled the finger with the ring on it, “is legit.” She wasn’t feeling exactly chipper, but she couldn’t help but let a small smile sneak its way onto her features as she watched him excitedly jump off the bed and scrimmage around on the other side.

“I found this,” he popped back up with a CD case in his hand, “this morning and I have a feeling it’s proof of, uh, our marriage.” The term excited both of them, but both tried to hide it desperately.

“Why do you think that?” She giggled as he laid on the floor in front of the TV and held up the CD toward her. She felt her heart stutter as she looked at her own handwriting, a bit more sloppy than usual, but there it was. B + M WEDDING. “And I drew cute little hearts around it too, oh how embarrassing.” She shook her head and placed one hand on her cheek to feel the warm blush.

“I think they do look cute.” Brendon winked as he sat back on the bed beside her. She covered her face with her hands and giggled from time to time as she watched a drunken Brendon walk down the aisle with herself just as drunk.

“That is not my dress.” She shook her head as she watched herself giggle on the TV causing her to bend over slightly. “And I really don’t think I’m wearing any panties.” Her eyes closed a little as she prayed over and over that she was wrong. She wasn’t.

“Well isn’t that just a nice, pretty view.” Brendon chuckled as she punched his arm, which only made him smile wider and chuckle a little harder. “Just kidding,” he held his hands up in defense while thinking in his head just how good she did look in that short dress.

“I think we’ve seen enough.” She jumped up from the bed and quickly found the eject button as the two figures on the screen started to lean in for the famous wedding kiss. Her fingers trembled a bit from nerves as she picked the DVD up and put it back in its case, before settling down on the floor cross-legged and staring at her hands. “So, I guess this means we really are married, huh?” Her throat was dry and tense as her heart raced in her chest. She’d always dreamed of getting married like this, but it still managed to scare her.

“I would say so.” Brendon laced his fingers together and then unlaced them, before lacing them again. He was just as unnerved about this whole thing as she was. Sure, he thought she was pretty, but he didn’t actually know her that well.

“And I guess the next thing to do is figure out the divorce, huh?” She hated saying the words. She wanted nothing more than to stay married to this man and live her life with him, even if she hardly knew anything about him. The only thing that forced the words out was the fact that she couldn’t bare to trap him in something he didn’t want in the first place. Brendon cleared his throat.

“Well, technically we can’t get into the courts for at least three days, so we’ll have to plan it around that.” He told her, hiding all the hints at sadness from her. One thing you learned growing up in Vegas was all the legal trouble tourists usually got into.

“Three days?” Her eyes widened while Brendon just nodded in silence. “My flight’s scheduled for tomorrow morning.” She sighed and let her head rest in her hands, her fingers slowly massaging her temples. “And my reservations at the hotel are up tomorrow morning too.”

“You can stay here.” Brendon blurted before he could even think it through, but once he had blurted it, he loved the idea. “You can stay with me for the three days till we get everything situated and then book you a new flight home.” He grinned before having it falter as he realized he was talking about sending her off.

“That’s sweet, but I really don’t want to put you out.” She smiled a little at the gesture. The last thing she wanted was pity from him.

“You are officially my wifey for the next three or four days and therefore, you can stay here.” He smiled honestly as she rolled her eyes at the word ‘wifey’. “Now, you want breakfast?” He tilted his head a bit as he stood up and slipped on a t-shirt from the floor.

“Oh, we have some really special plans for breakfast.” She laughed lightly, but not sincerely, as she stood up from the ground too and discretely gazed around the room for her own clothes.

“Special?” He repeated and furrowed his eyebrows together. All he’d been planning was taking her down the street to his favorite brista.

“Oh yeah,” she finally spotted her bright red skinny jeans on the floor by the closet and skipped over to them. “I have to go back to the hotel and over breakfast I get to tell everyone how I went off last night and married a rockstar, including my ex-fiance.” She grinned with sarcasm, about to slip into the jeans, when an odd thought crossed her mind. “Um, Brendon?”

“Yeah?” Brendon picked up on her sudden timid tone and hurriedly poked his head through the t-shirt he’d just picked up from a pile on the bed. He looked at her with his nerves on edge again and found her staring at him, looking a bit scared.

“Did, uh, did we have sex last night?” Her head tilted as she bit her bottom lip. Brendon was caught up in how gorgeous she looked, yet again, and he had to physically shake his head to think about her words. Blood rushed to both their cheeks at the awkward silence.

“I think so,” he admitted and watched as she nodded quickly, going back to dressing like the question had never been asked. He smiled at how she brushed it off and how she didn’t mind dressing in front of him.

“Well, I can’t seem to find my shirt from last night, and this one kind of smells like the mysterious adventure we had last night so can I borrow a clean one?” Amanda sniffed at the flannel and winced at the grotesque smell, making Brendon chuckle as he walked over to his dresser.

“Let me see if I can find one to fit that tiny frame of yours,” Brendon scanned the draws full of button up shirts and band tees. “How about you try . . . this one?” He pulled out a light blue button up with a floral print.

“I am not that tiny, for the record.” She mumbled and took the shirt from him, unbuttoning the shirt she had on now quickly. She stopped about three buttons down. “You can turn around, ya know?” She giggled when he flushed and speedily turned to face the wall. Brendon was glad she couldn’t see his face as he knew it was burning with embarrassment. “Okay, I have to ask how the hell this came to be in your wardrobe.” Amanda giggled a little more as she started to button up the shirt.

“I went through a Beatles stage,” Brendon chuckled and almost turned around to see her response, but then remembered what she was doing. “It, uh, brought a few interesting things to my wardrobe.”

“Interesting is an understatement,” she sang and buttoned the last button.

“Don’t pick on my clothes!” He crossed his arms over his chest while a smirk played on his lips.

“Promise not to if you don’t pick on me in your clothes,” she pulled on the shirt and nervously glanced up at him. “How ridiculous does it look?”

He turned slowly, the smirk still there, and his eyes lit up on her. “You look gorgeous.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Enough with the lies, let’s just get this over with.”