RomCom Cliché

Chapter Sixteen

December was more than halfway over by the time the wedding came around. Rebecca's time in L.A. has been filled with wedding duties and lunch with Irin, spa appointments and brunch and coordinating with vendors before one final rehearsal the day before.

It was being held at Nam's father's estate outside of the city, a mansion of a house with sprawling gardens planted with winter flowers just for the occasion so that there were snow-dusted pines and spots of colour to add to the decor.

The morning of, Rebecca slipped out of bed and left Freen sleeping, kissing her temple and pulling the blankets up over her before showering and pulling on the embroidered robes she'd arranged for them all. 

She was the first one up and greeted the caterers and stylists as they arrived, platters of cut fruit and mini quiches, fresh croissants and coffee from what Rebecca believed was the best place in the city. 

The other girls were roused one-by-one by their alarms and drifted out to join her, claiming their coffee order and watching the hair stylists and makeup artists arrange their things before they got started.

Rebecca envied Freen's indulgence in a lie-in and sipped her coffee as the hair stylist curled her hair, keeping up a running stream of gentle chatter to Nam, who was pacing restlessly. A tender smile played on Rebecca's lips and she watched her with amusement.

"You alright?"

"Mhm. What time did we book the cars for?"

"Twelve."

"We need to be there by--"

"Two. We allowed an extra forty minutes for traffic."

"Right. The favours--"

"Ratch dropped them off yesterday. I made him send me a photo as proof."

Letting out a slightly strained laugh, Nam nodded. Love raised a bottle of champagne and waved it around. "I think you need a drink."

Hesitating, Nam sighed and rolled her eyes, "go on then."

"You're not nervous, are you?" Milk asked, eyeing a danish and leaning back on the sofa.

"No," Nam bristled.

"Here. Champagne," Love lightly said, hanging the bride a glass and shooting Milk a warning look.

They all toasted and Rebecca traded off her coffee for the champagne, sweet and bubbly in her mouth as she felt a flicker of excitement in her stomach. 

Nam was the first in their friend group to get married and all of them were thrilled about it, latching onto her happiness and allowing themselves to be filled with the sliver of hope that they'd have the same in the future.

The morning passed by fast and Freen emerged as Rebecca was finished with her makeup, her eyes widening a fraction at the disarray as she crept across the room and pecked Rebecca on the cheek. 

"Morning," she whispered. "Having fun?"

"Mhm. Do you want me to order you a coffee? I didn't know when you'd be up so--"

"I'll make one," she said and then kissed Rebecca's cheek again, not wanting to smudge her lipstick. "You look beautiful, by the way."

Giving her hand a squeeze, Rebecca smiled, "you too."

Freen scoffed and then slipped off to the kitchen, trying to be unobtrusive as she made herself coffee and quietly asked if anyone else wanted anything. Snorting, Nam reached for an empty flute and sloshed a decent amount of champagne into it before beckoning Freen over.