Chapter Text
Heels, nails, brows, mascara. Mae Mira is picture perfect and a visual delight gotdamnit.
She inhales sharply, her brown eyes hidden by maroon colored lenses and raking down the image she strikes in the mirror.
An off-shoulder cyan piece she wore to Milan three years ago. Her lithe silhouette accented with textured teal-green ruffles along the left shoulder-strap. The textures trailing down to the thigh-length skirt. Knee-high boots in chunks of magenta and black with gold zippers and a reduced heel. Her darkened magenta hair pinned up in a messy bun. Eyeshadow and lips painted in complementary bubblegum pink—matching her pink Coach clutch with gilding.
The look is a lot, and she feels like a sarcastic traffic light.
Petty doesn't begin to describe it, and a part of her shoves the guilt down. This isn't even the worst she had planned.
"Bobby?" A sparsely mustached face peeks into her room from beyond the door-frame. "Where is she?"
"Zoey's meeting you there. She said to expect turtles." She arches a brow, her reflection watching him with barely disguised scorn and plenty of curiosity.
Bobby shrugs, undeterred.
"I said you were wearing blue—" "Bobby you pleb, this is cyan—" "AND she said she had a dress that'll match yours."
"Is it ocean themed?" From what she'd seen of her plus-one before, that is to be expected. International day of who-cares-some-sea-creature and Zoey going all out to invite everyone on her contact list to join in a fun-filled party to celebrate the-sea-creature. Hand-made invitations, even.
Though her calligraphy was on point. The excessive glitter on the other hand...
"You gave her my notes?" She turns slowly, examining herself from all angles once again. She is the statement piece, as always.
"I gave her your notes." Bobby bites his lip, "I dunno if she read them."
She shouldn't feel frustrated, and she untenses her shoulder muscles using sheer force of will. "Whatever. Let's go, we're taking my royce."
"You're going to be late. I hate manual."
"Good." Mira smirks.
[ - - ]
Zoey is starting to lose her bravado. Because, honestly, this is the stupidest mess she's ever got herself into.
And if, for whatever reason, she's asked to testify. The plan is to throw Bobby under the bus for asking this huge favor from her. And hey, she's a good person and that's definitely why she refused to take any payment up-front for being someone's date to a wedding.
A wedding where she knew absolutely no one aside from her verified hottie date.
And the bride and groom, technically in semantics of, social media stalking and gossip magazines and semi-parasociability. So three people because honestly she did the same with her date after Bobby sent her Mira's wikipedia page.
Damnit she should've taken the won, shouldn't've she?
But Zoey is a good person, and she is sticking to that. Even if she thinks her date is hot and why would a vision like Mira need to hire a date? She literally could've just asked her nicely—if asked to jump, Zoey would've asked how high and all that puppy nonsense.
Yeah the curiosity bug bit her and she has settled on somewhere between aliens and Mira losing a bet to Bobby about something. Or maybe Bobby lost the bet, and that's why—"Zoey?"
"Hey!" She whirls around suddenly, nearly stepping on the longer end of her skirt and barely able to keep her black vans from scuffing the periwinkle fabric. Oh dear. She feels a flush blossoming under her cheeks at the sight of Mira. This is, bad. "You're uh, I mean, the wedding march stuff already started and they did the whole 'no cellphones or ipads' warning 'cause they've already got official videographers and—"
Mira put two fingers over her rambling mouth. She is doneZo(TM) and it is way too early for her to be this much of a mess so fast.
"Relax. We'll sit in the back." There's a smile, a flash of white almost viper-quick. "You look great."
(The force of will she needs to remove Mira's fingers are drawn from the depths of Mordor or something.)
"Thanks. You too."
(She squeaked. Oh no. Where's a hole-in-the-ground god when you need one? To swallow you whole into the depths of the underground???)
Also, a complete and objective lie. Zoey's hair is done up in wavy ringlets that surround her sparkly greenish eyeshadow. Her sheath dress starts off turquoise with embroidered sea turtles—that she did herself!—twisting and swimming their way down to the periwinkle blue. Plus her bright teal clay red-ear slider turtle-earrings, hanging from her lobes.
But the show must go on.
The church's double doors are held open by the crew, but someone lets them through a side-door into the sanctuary with all the polished oak pews. The sound system continues with the wedding march while the groom waits at the altar, groomsmen slightly behind him, and the bridal party is power-walking their way towards him.
So, they aren't too late really.
Mira walks down a row behind the gathered guests, and Zoey follows her. They had the pew to themselves, and her invited date takes the aisle-end without a word. (The pieces are starting to fall into place for her, but Zoey still needs more dots to connect first.)
Zoey keeps her hands in her lap, teal shoulder bag set beside as she craned to try and see who was walking through the double-doors next. Flower kids, ring bearer, and Kang Rumi.
Gorgeous is not a sufficient word for the sheer radiance that is her bright and gleaming star.
The white wedding dress is mermaid cut with tulle sleeves. The train decorated with a gazillion small pearls to match the larger ones woven into her iconic purple braid with colorful little starfishes. With a short translucent lace veil ending just under her nose.
(And. It has to be her imagination that Rumi's caramel-brown eyes flicker her way—no, at Mira—before resuming their look ahead.)
When the bride reaches the altar, there's a moment where she lets go of the wedding bouquet of pink roses, steadying the bunch with just one hand. Her left hand reaches back and pulls loose some hair ribbon.
And her braid detaches with a thick thump onto the carpeted raised platform.
The whole room gasps in surprise and the sound is thunderous as it is shocking. From the corner of her eye, she could see Mira flinch and her hand clench, nails digging into her palms.
"That's uh, that's some magic trick." Zoey whispers to her date, glancing side-ways. The other guests also murmur, up until the officiant clears her throat. "That's a pretty cute wolf cut though."
Mira says nothing.
[ - - ]
She had seen 'Tangled' all of one time. Curled up with Rumi on the red couch, in her apartment. Bobby wasn't her roommate yet. They had buttered popcorn with sprinkled mini-chocolates in a bowl. Sneaking kisses and touches like they might get caught having a night in.
Rapunzel's golden hair gets cut, obviously. Healing glowing magic? Way too OP. It had to be cut. In a dramatic, climatic scene? Sure. That's just how Movies Worked(TM).
And yet.
It's all Mira could do to keep her jaw from dropping, and she knew that her date could sense her anxiety spiking.
Just what is Rumi doing? She doesn't do anything without a plan.
And she doesn't execute a plan without telling everyone their parts in it.
The braid is carried off by a bridesmaid, one that she doesn't recognize. The officiant gives a speech reminding everyone present what marriage means to society and how the faith requires it to be one with Jesus. The vows, and the exchange of rings.
The kiss.
The newlyweds smile brightly, to each other and then to their gathered guests. Kwan Ji-yong takes his Missus' hand, and they walk quickly out of the sanctuary.
And that is that.
Off to the reception, then.
She needed to change.
[ - - ]
"Okay so remember when I said you didn't need to pay me?" Zoey slips in just enough annoyance to get her point across, loudly. "Buying me a new dress counts."
"If you can find something in my closet that'll fit you, be my guest." She rolls her eyes, and continued to browse the catalogue on the tablet in her hands.
"I'm just saying, we should've done this a few days ago." We, oops. Was she allowed to use that pronoun? Yeah, right? We, her and I. That's how this works.
"Anyway." Zoey clears her throat, "You don't need a new dress, right? You've got like, a bajillion of 'em."
"Bobby is a liar. I have finite closet space."
"And a storage unit building." Something sky blue catches her eye and she swipes back to it. Humming at the shape, it wouldn't be that flattering on herself, but, it'd certainly grab attention.
"That is a taxable investment-property."
"Sure Rah-rah."
"Did you just—?" The magenta haired woman sticks her head out from the curtained change-room, looking at her in bewilderment.
"You get whatever pet-names I come up with and—" Zoey hops to her feet with a grin, "You'll like 'em!"
"I can still murder you and make it to the reception without you."
"Okay that's just rude." She shows Mira the cocktail dress with a blazer in the next window. (And just maybe she also feels butterflies at the considering look the model gives her.)
"Make sure the blazer's double-breasted and a size bigger for your shoulders."
"Yes boss."