Chapter one
Problem one, scene one:
It was mid March and the afternoon was irritating with the sun that has not yet set and playing peek-a-boo with clouds. What clouds in the middle of summer you may ask? Welcome to the city that never followed weather.
The bridesmaid looked so beautiful in the lavender colored long flowy dress with her dark hair which are straight at the roots and turning soft curls at the edges, falling till her waist.
Alone in her suite, Sameera sat on her bed, her head between her hands, she felt tears trickle down from her eyes.
Like it would happen in any wedding, it happened in this, and it happened to her. She had got drunk the previous night so much and hooked up with someone. It wasn't that big a deal, or so she thought until she had seen the person she slept with walk out of shower, come drop a kiss on her cheek and walk out of her room. She was half drowsy when he was walking out, yet as she had seen his face, she felt the familiar guilt and disgust come back to her with double force.
How is she supposed to go back and attend the wedding as if nothing happened when she had to stand next to the guy that she had slept with. How can she look into the eyes of her best friend, when she had lost all her dignity and did a big mistake which would break her best friend. She had slept with the man her best friend was going to marry a night before his wedding.
She felt like the worst friend one could ever have, although she did believe he was the worst husband one could have too. Getting up, she wiped her tears away, making her walk to the groom's suite. Granted she made a mistake but she would give him one chance to sort this out. She hoped it meant nothing to him, for it would be easy that way. Although if last night did mean even the remotest to him than it did to her, she had to do that harder job. She had to break the wedding by telling her best friend everything.
Problem Two scene one
Dev looked troubled. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, with red and tired eyes, hair sticking everywhere, clothes soiled and ruined he just looked out of a huge fight.
He was not, however.
He smelled like shit and he felt like shit too. Last night was a disaster. He had promised he would never go on that path again, yet he had, and lost something very precious. He was the worst Bestman ever. He knew it was very easy to be provoked when he was high. Yet, he blindly took the bait and gambled the entire night. That was not the worst part.
The worst part came when after 2am had come this 6'2" tall man with a belly and unshaven face. He had never seen him earlier, and since it was but a private party, he didn't expect a gamble king to show up suddenly. However, the man, who later turned out to be the bride's uncle had kept losing the game, letting Dev win, increasing his confidence. And when the man had put his gold chain on the table, something ugly reared its head in Dev's chest. He was drunk and high on confidence for winning continuously, and most of all stupid. He had put back the entire amount he won on the table plus a ring.
He lost the game and when he saw the grin on the older man, he had realised it was but an elaborate bait.
Only when he realised what he has done, he had also realised another major problem he had caused. The ring he bet wasn't his. It was meant for the bride.
God, he is so screwed.
Problem Three scene one
Geet left a breath she was holding for so long. She had but waited all her adult life for this day, but when the day is finally here, she was wondering what's the right way? Whether to climb down through her window or should she get out through the servant quarters?
She jumped at the lowest of knocks on her door, and was nervous all day. As she was pacing in the room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was a vision in white, with sweetheart neckline and beautiful dress that had accentuated her curves at the right parts and was left as a freely flowing dress down her waist. The diamond earrings and the beautiful necklace with a single pendent was the only jewelry she had been wearing. With her hair tied up in a beautiful bun, her curly ringlets of hair escaping a little of it, she was but the most prettiest bride anybody has ever seen.
And it hit her like a pile of bricks at that moment. That it was happening. She was the bride.
And she wanted to run away. Now.
"I am sorry Maan" she had scribbled on the note, as she picked up her skirts and ran.
Edited by ChandlerBing - 7 years ago
comment:
p_commentcount