Chapter Text
Hello. My name is Bruno Serrano, the one you may know as being puked on by a drunken Gregory.
I lived a simple life before becoming a member of the Serrano family; I must say it was altogether a better life in the rundown barn of the Periwinkle household, catching the odd mouse but generally sticking to the healthier plant based lifestyle that so many enjoy. Buuuut I’ve grown to love Greg. Everyone grows to love Greg, it’s factual.
So let’s move on from me and transition to the situation that was so casually becoming a big web of drama in front of- oh there goes me leg.
Oh, right, yeah, I was gnawing at some half-eaten salmon from the night before that Greg had left unattended outside for some good ol' fermentation.
“No, sir, I didn’t apply for this- okay, just listen, I don’t want to be on The Fringe. I’m being disrespectful? I’ll let you know I’m a student at the Harvard of the South.”
Eventually, Greg gave in and hung up on the landline, resting it on the oak table at his leg.
My tongue just about reached the bowl of almond milk when Greg climbed onto his knees to spot my salmon. Tears sprung to his eyes, when suddenly-the phone rang shrill in his ears.
He rolled his eyes and took the phone firmly into his hand.
“I told you, I don’t want to be on your stupid game show!” Greg yelled through the phone.
On the other side of the phone, a familiar voice muttered:
“What?”
Father’s face lit up as he realised Joshua Felix Chan was talking to him for the first time in months.
“Josh! Wow, uh, hey!”
“Hey, Greg, how’s Atlanta?” Josh said cheerfully, suddenly being confronted with the urge to see him, to bro-hug him, to contemplate the pure wonders of life together.
“Amazing. Everyone’s pretty, uh...sane here.”
Josh laughed kind of awkwardly, wishing he could hear his sarcasm in sync with his jokey facial expression.
“So, I know you’re crammed with all your interesting stuff in Atlanta, but if you’ve got like a weekend to spend here in LA, then…”
“I don’t know, Josh.”
Josh inhaled, wondering how to explain this to him.
“I just thought you’d wanna know about my- um...wedding. I was thinking maybe you’d come, if you want,” Josh gulped, tapping his fingertips worriedly on the bed frame beside him.
Greg passed it off as a joke or something- I mean it had to be a joke- right? He lifted a glass of sparkling water, and laughed. He took a sip and awaited Josh’s laugh. Silence.
“Um, Greg…”
His heart hammered anxiously against his chest. Engaged to who? There was a really awkward, long pause in which Greg took the time to search him up on Limpstagram (@joshchan91791)- only to notice his latest photo.
Rebecca. Her curly brown hair had grown out a bit, and her eyes sparkled whilst a beam was spread over her face. She had her hand fanned out, with a glistening ring on her- not thumb- not index- not middle- but her ring finger.
The caption said:
'Finally engaged to the woman of my dreams! Love you Becks <3'
Greg choked on a sip of water and heard Josh finally admit to what he had done.
“Me and Rebecca, we’re…” Josh inhaled. “Getting married.”