*Mia's P.O.V*

"I am sorry about a lot of things. But I don't feel guilty... I don't regret anything I've said tonight. If anything, I wish I could hold you and whisper it into your ears and - urm... Goodnight and goodwill, Mia. Hope your wedding goes well."

I exhale. Why say that on my wedding day? Seriously, Charlie?

It's already hard as it is. He has always been like this; always giving compliments in questionable formats. I can not tell if it is what he feels or his generosity inciting the words. What does breathtaking mean to him? WHAT?!

He ends the call, although I am not done processing shit. Alone in the dark of the corridor, I hover over my phone as his face reappears as my wallpaper. He is laughing. He thinks this is funny, huh?!!!

"Mia?"

I flinch, Reindorf's base tone turning me into a kid caught red-handed.

"What are you doing?"

"I got thirsty." I move into the kitchen, where he sits over a wine bottle, his car keys, and his phone. He offers me the wine to my confusion. I decline with a frown towards the car keys.

"You went out?"

"I am going." He rises lazily.

My head shakes. "Where? You are drunk."

"I have to go, Mia."

"Where?"

"Just - dealing with some stuff with the land, and I'll have to visit my investors - stuff like that -"

"Stuff like what?"

"I'll let you know when I get back."

"When is that?"

Instead of replying, he staggers away.

"Let me call you a driver then."

"Sure. Stop worrying, I'll be back."

*
*

I can't stop worrying. Not when the groom isn't back yet. It's afternoon and I am exhausted from all the wedding talk.

"This would have made it much easier if your bust had been larger," Granny says as I wear my gown. My glare makes her add, "Do you need breast implants, dear?"

No, I don't bother answering her. Yes, she is also concerned about Reindorf's absence, though she puts up an act for the cameras.

"Take more pictures," Granny orders the photographers. I groan, stiff as a statue. Aside from the witch and the unfortunate workers, Cynthia sits like the support system I need.

Out of the blue, I ponder about Charlie, his whereabouts, and what he is up.

I'm so gone that my phone's vibration feels like an ant's tango. Cynthia nudges me to heed it. Granny smirks.

"Hello, Rein?"

It's not him. It's the driver. She tells me Reindorf is on a flight to the UK.

Hearing this, I try to draw away from Granny but to no avail.

"He - what?! Does he know how many we have at the church. How many dignitaries does this man have any respect?!"

"He'll be back."

Granny turns up her nose at that, but realising the photographers still here silences her. She mumbles something about our family's speed jets and leads everyone out.

"I'm going to ask Shiela what she knows about this," Cynthia says.

I nod as she leaves, too. Now, I am alone. Before I know it, worry and stress have morphed into soliloquys. I prance in front of the mirrors, stopping once a while acknowledge the unflattering excess fabric on the chest area.

By afternoon, a knock revive me. Leaping for relief, I rush to the doorknob.

Wait, this is it? I stop. Am I really getting married?

My grip loosens until I'm just by the door, numb. I turn around. Turn back. There is no knock again. Reindorf must think I'm not here.

And I don't want to correct him.

I sigh. I sit. Then it dawns on me that Reindorf would have knocked more than once. Heck, who knocks just once and like almost inaudibly?

It's a hesitant knock. It's-

"CHARLIE!" I burst the door open. He freezes, rotating to face me.

"Charl -" I am cut off by his arms. Wrapping me. Holding me. I forget myself, inhaling his scent until he pulls back.

He looks divine, albeit in an all black. I can't look at his face, so I stick to the hint of enlarged biceps underneath his rolled up sleeves.

"You look nice." He smiles, making me reply, "No, it looks hideous from the top."

"That... can be fixed." His eyes scan my gown. I exhale, unsure if I can straight in this boy's presence any second longer. Luckily, he tugs back into the room and finds a sewing needle.
He tears off some thread with his teeth and wet its tip. When the thread doesn't pass through, I try. I taste caramel from the thread.

I flush. That's from his mouth. His mouth tastes sweet, and now I'm going to be obsessed with anything caramel. Great.

"Did you get caramel cake or something?" I pass him the threaded needle.

He nods. "At the reception."

"The reception has started?"

"Yep. Had me thinking I missed the actual wedding. What happened?"

"Reindorf has travelled."

"How?" Charlie frowns. "When will he be back?"

I shrug. Charlie sews with a set jaw, as though I deep contemplation. Only once finished does he say, "Can't your Granny extend the nomination deadline?"

"I don't think it's in her power... I think Grandpa is still the head ultimately. Sure, he has dementia, but I have seen Joe attempt broaching the topic of changing family traditions. He got mad at her."

Frowning at that, Charlie irons my gown. My hand needy for more than imagination reaches for his biceps. A press later, he shoots me a shocked look.

"I almost burned it!"

"But you didn't."

"Mia. Can you kindly sit? I want to tell you something. "

I freeze instead. Someone knocks. Charlie hands me the gown and responds.

His pal emerges behind him, snapping me out of my trance.

"Yo, Mama-mia -"

"Would you rather marry me?"

"What?" Harry and I freeze in unison.

I grab Charlie's hand. He turns to Harry, who suddenly squeals.

"Yes. YES!"

"Wha-" I don't even finish before Harry snatches my gown. Charlie turns to me, a nervous look on his pretty face. I am still processing.

"Ok, wear this," Harry unzips the gown for me. I give a confused nod that makes Harry ask, "Where is your makeup?"

"Urm, drawer?"

"Ok." Harry searches for it, mumbling, "Charlie, your tux is right outside."

I frown. "You planned this?!"

"I did." His friend snaps. "Only God knows how long it took me to muster his courage. You were going to bail out, weren't ya?"

"...Yea." Charlie admits.

In a jiffy, Harry is done with my makeup. Charlie watches me like the prince he is, draped in a navy tailored tuxedo.

"You're welcome." He smiles at us and exits happily.

Once he is out of sight, I turn fully to Charlie. My jaw drops as our eyes meet, and he says, "Breathtaking, as usual."

"Urm... thanks."

"But if you don't want to marry me -"

"Of course I want to!" I blurt. He blinks, and my cheeks flush a bright pink, lowering my voice into a mumble. "I mean, since Reindorf doesn't seem to be coming anytime soon."

"Oh, yes. Hopefully, I'll be a good enough replacement." He smiles. Goodness, his smile makes it so hard to notice my mistake of not telling him, 'You are not a replacement. You are the goal. Once it's all over, it's you I want to be with.'

*

*

The whole replacement shtick runs deeper when we head to the pastor and confuse him. He blesses our marriage nonetheless before empty pews - except the ones Harry and Cynthia are on. It's not the same church the wedding was originally intended to be at because I don't want to run into the Yeltsins.

My failed wedding should be a pain to Granny. An embarrassment. I can pretend to be hurt until she realises I can still run for CEO.

Not a minute afterwards, I have to rush to Yeltsin Group of Companies to submit my nomination forms and everything. I step out on relief, answering Charlie's worrisome texts with dancing emojies. He texts back, "Thank God!"

But another text interrupts. Reindorf. O frown as I read.

I am at the registrar now so we can get married. Sending you the location.

Of all times?! I take the elevator hesitantly. It's eleven. Forty minutes to midnight. I don't want to tell him over text, though.

Reaching the car park, I make a voice note for him to cancel his arrangements. Promising to explain why in person, I enter my car. The last thing I smell is chloroform.

*

When I wake up, I am on a plain field. I blink back haze, conjuring alertness. Sun glows against the soft counters of fur that blend into a huge dark shadow. My brain struggles to process well until I hear their screams.

"PLEASE, DON'T DO THIS TO US!"

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

Different voices, all of which I have heard in a single room - the top floor. The board. Suddenly, I see two, sporadically arranged and tied on the field. Not all are within my sight due to the dark shadow. But I can tell.
Men and their families. A kid looks at me from his post by a tree. I frown as his gaze goes up, up and up. To the sun? No, to the top of the shadow.

The shadow roars.

Oh my...bear?!

BEAR?! BEAR!!!! I AM BEHIND A BEAR?!

Everyone starts running, their restaints weak under the pressure of their yelps. Only I can't move. My heart pounds hard against my chest. If only it was loud enough to not hear bone-cracking. More piercing screams.

There is no fucking way this is real, right?

Comforted by this thought, I shut my eyes.

Wake up, Mia.

"HEL-AAAHHHH -"

C'mon, wake up!

I try. I really do. But the moment I open my eyes, I see a little girl. Her eyes bulge. Her mouth is ajar. She stares at a severed head.

I scream for her to run, but to no avail. She becomes the odd one out, accepting death like it's a gift. Blood splatters across the field, staining dew. It goes on until all that's left are whimpers and last breaths drowned by the beast's growl. My heart convulses, viens shooting too much of everything everywhere. My skin pales. My lungs constrict. Organs cave in and then ... life goes black.

*