A week's gone by, and thanks to Dodie's obsessiveness, our wedding plan is well on its way. We have a date in May picked out, along with reservations to a venue at a butterfly garden, which includes a DJ and catering from a gourmet restaurant. Today, she's arranged a meeting with a bakery I never thought I'd be able to afford, for Dan and I to taste test wedding cakes.

"You think this is fancy enough?" Dan stands in front of a full length mirror, straightening his tie. He's dressed in dress pants, a button up shirt, and a dark grey tie. I come up behind him, studying his reflection.

"Yes," I reply finally. "You look handsome as fuck."

He chuckles, turning to face me. "And you look beautiful," he says, kissing me on the forehead, and I smile. I'm dressed in a purple lacy dress, my hair pulled into a curly ponytail and light makeup. I have a pea coat on top of my dress, thanks to the cool winter air. I feel incredibly basic, but Dodie insisted I dress this way, as it seemed like it fit the dress code of the bakery Dan and I are going to. I still look cute, so I guess it's okay.

"Ready to go?" I ask Dan, grabbing my purse and throwing my phone and apartment key into it.

"Yup," He replies quickly, an excited grin forcing itself on his face, and I can't help but laugh. He rolls his eyes, before adding, "Sorry, but I'm gonna be a little excited about getting to taste-test gourmet fucking cakes."

"I thought I was dating a twenty seven year old, not a twelve year old," I retort, but he only rolls his eyes a second time, making me laugh.

"Shut up, and let's get going," he says. "The last thing we need is to be late."

We walk out of the apartment, saying goodbye to Dodie and Phil, and walking down the street. Dan gets a cab, and tells the driver the address for us. The drive is only a few minutes, even in London traffic. We stop outside of this grand, white tower of a building, which looks much too fancy for me to even be allowed to look at. Dan and I exchange looks, before walking into the building.

The smell of cakes and candy wafts through the air, my mouth immediately starting to water even though I had just eaten lunch around an hour ago. The ground and counters are made completely of marble, the footsteps of my heels clinking around the echoing room. We walk up to the counter, where a cashier dressed in a pastel pink tea-length dress stands. Her bright ginger hair is pinned back in dramatic victory rolls, and her lips painted a matte red. She looks like a 1940s movie star, and I'm immediately in love with this place.

"Hello!" She greets us cheerily. "How may I help you?"

"Um, we have a cake tasting reservation under Howell?" Dan replies, more as a question than a statement. The cashier's smile only widens.

"Oh, of course! If you follow me, I can lead you to the tasting room."

Dan and I exchange looks, before following the girl. She leads us to this room set up as a sort of dining room, complete with a high table that seats ten people. There's another door opposite of us that reads 'kitchen,' and the walls are decorated with vintage candy jars. The girl disappears, before coming back with two large trays. Dan and I both gasp with excitement when we see what sits on the trays, which is dozens of tiny little cake squares, each around the size of a brownie, with a piece of paper labeling what kind of cake it is. This instantly reminds me of the cheesecake samples back in Los Angeles, except ten times better.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to the samples, and you can come back to the front desk once you think you've made a decision, or if you have any questions." The cashier claps her hands together enthusiastically, and sashays out of the room. Dan and I look at each other excitedly, before sitting at the table.

We sample each cake together, sipping on sparkling champagne that had also been given to us with the cakes. Considering the amount of sugar we're consuming, we try to pace ourselves, but that ends up being more difficult than expected. There are the classics, like Belgian chocolate, marble, and red velvet, but then there are cakes that I'd never even imagined, like orange cream, key lime coconut, and blackberry walnut. Due to us not being able to try every sample, we skip out on the ones that seem the least tasty.

After around thirty minutes, I'm starting to feel a bit nauseous, but already have a good idea on what flavors I'm feeling. Dan and I decide our best bet is to go with something simple, so more people are more likely to enjoy it. We decide on Belgian chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting. The baker asks us what color theme we want the cake to be, but it seems a little too early for that, so we decide to just go with plain white, three tier. Dan and I had already decided that with any of the things Dodie gives us freedom with, we'll go with the simplest plan of action.

After we finish tasting the cakes, Dan and I decide we might as well make the most with us both being so dressed up, and decide to go to a club. After all, we never really got a chance to celebrate being engaged. Most people would probably have a party with guests, but we can save that for the actual wedding.

We go to a fancy club, walking straight to the bar and ordering a flight of drinks. Even in our outfits, I still don't feel like Dan and I got in, but that's my own confidence issues coming out. I'm sure after a few drinks, that feeling will go away.

Sure enough, my head begins to feel light, and I grab Dan's hand, dragging him to the dance floor. Music pounds in my ears, and I'm trapped in a sea of warm bodies, but it's the most free I've ever felt. No one is paying attention to me but Dan, and that's the only attention I need.

We sway to the music, our hands in the air, moving. I turn around, Dan behind me, and continue movie to the music. My eyes are closed as I let myself become controlled by the music, it pumping in my veins. I know that if I was sober, there's no way I would be enjoying this, but since I'm not, it's one of the most relaxing things I've ever done.

Dan grabs my waist, and I move my hips against him, a smile on my lips. He turns me around, and I look up into his eyes, it taking awhile before I can make out his face above me. However, as I do so, the air in my lungs disappears.

It's not Dan.

I push myself away, and hear the man shout something at me, but I can't distinguish what it was. I run through the crowd, my purse clutched into my hand, until I make it to the bar. I pull out my phone, and text Dan's number.

Where are you?? I lost you

I lost you too, I'm still on the dance floor. Where are you?

I'm on the left end of the bar

I'll be there in a second

My breathing becomes bourse and shallow, and I try to calm myself down as I wait for Dan. I get a glass of ice water from the bartender, and sip it, leaning against the bar, when Dan appears from the crowd. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, his face red. He comes up to me, and I put my glass down, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his chest. I know he must be wondering what's going on, and he rubs my back, trying to calm me down.

We pull apart, and his eyes sparkle from the dim lights hanging around the bar. "Do you want to get out of here?" He asks me, and I nod my head. I make sure I have my phone and keys, before grabbing Dan's hand with an iron grip, and we walk out of the club. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

When the cool night air hits me in the face, I let out a heavy sigh of relief. I can finally breath again.

"What happened?" Dan asks. "One second you were right next to me, and the next, you weren't."

"I have no fucking idea," I reply. "But some creep grabbed my waist, and I ran out of there as fast as I could."

A stoney expression covers his face, the kind of look that scares me. He doesn't reply, and I grab his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. However, by the look on his face, I can tell he's still peeved.

We walk back to the apartment in silence. It's a long walk, but the night air is pleasant, and I need to walk off the stress. Dan seems to calm down a bit, as he stands less rigid, his features relaxing.

I see a familiar diner coming up, and I stop, looking up at Dan. "I'm hungry, can we please stop here?"

He laughs, and nods his head. We walk into the empty restaurant, and sit at a table, two menus placed in front of us. There's only one other customer in here, an old man reading an aged book. Malt shop classics play from a vintage jukebox sitting in a far corner. After we order our drinks, I tell dan I need to use the restroom, and walk off.

I walk into the restroom, pee, and wash my hands. As I do so, I look at my reflection. My makeup is smeared, my hair frizzy, and I only now realize that one of my earrings must've fallen out. I look like a complete wreck, but I only laugh. The alcohol must still be in my system, because I don't really give a single shit anymore. I splash some cold water on my flushed face, before drying my hands, and walking back into the quiet diner.

As I sit down, an exhausted waitress comes up to us, asking us for our order. Her red lipstick is slightly smeared, dark circles under her eyes, and a few loose strands stick out of the loose bun sitting on top of her head. Dan orders a burger and fries, and I get chicken tenders and fries as well. Dan also orders a chocolate milkshake for us to share. The waitress writes it all down, mumbling something to us, before walking back toward the kitchen. Dan and I exchange a look.

"She deserves a good tip more than anybody who's ever served me," I say in a quiet tone, and Dan nods his head in agreement.

"Today has been a fucking day," Dan sighs, and I laugh.

"You got that right. I need a fucking nap."

"I mean, it's ten o'clock at night, I think it's okay for you to just, you know, go to bed."

We talk for a little bit, before our food and milkshake show up, and I hungrily five in with no resistance. I've consumed nothing but cake and alcohol today, and I need some real food in my stomach. I had a small lunch earlier today, but it was nothing substantial.

Dan and I sit in silence as we eat, Frank Sinatra playing in the background, before we both finish our food. I sigh heavily, sitting back in my seat, and smiling happily. Dan laughs at my expression, before taking a gulp from his milkshake.

"Today has been a really good day," I say, and Dan nods in agreement.

"Partly just because I got to spend it with you," he adds, and I let out a hearty laugh.

"Smooth, Mr. Howell." I pause, then add, "In a few months, I'll be called Mrs. Howell. Isn't that a weird thing to think about?"

"I can't wait for that day," Dan replies, and a giddy smile covers my face.

"Me, either."

After we eat, Dan leaves a twenty pound tip for the waitress, and we leave the diner, happy and full. We walk down the street, Dan's arm around me waist, my bag hitting my hip with the rhythm of our steps. We finally reach the apartment, and walk in. Dodie and Phil's laughter fills the apartment, and we walk into the lounge to them playing Mario Kart. I notice a half-empty bottle of vodka on the island, and realize why they must find the game so funny.

"Eh-hem," Dan clears his throat, and Phil and Dodie turn to face us.

"Oh, my god, I missed you!" She throws her controller on the couch, completely abandoning the game, and wrapping me in a huge hug. I laugh, wrapping my arms around her in return.

"As much as I've missed you too, I'm actually exhausted, and really need a shower," I say. She lets go of me and pouts, but I only shrug my shoulders.

She lets me go, and after saying goodnight, I take a long, hot shower. After changing into sweatpants and a tank top, I walk to the bedroom. Dan sits on the bed, his laptop in his lap. I plot down next to him, dropping my head on his shoulder.

"Shane's uploading the series soon. He posted announcements on all his social media. Your phone's on the nightstand, and it's been blowing up with notifications."

I pick up my phone, and sure enough, it takes me minutes to scroll through all the notifications on my screen. I go on Twitter, and look through my mentions.

You met Shane Dawson, and didn't tell us about it? I'm so proud of you!

Finally, he makes a series about a YouTuber I actually like.

This is so great! I can't believe how much you've blown up in the last few months!

I smile as I go through the notifications. I barely spot any negative ones. I look up Shane's tweet, in which he mentions me and the three per series. A smile grows on my face, and I let it a sigh of happiness.

"I can't believe how much that's happened in the last few weeks," I tell Dan. "I Skyped Shane Dawson, then got to go to Los Angeles and film a series with him, then I get fucking engaged. I don't think I could be any happier."

"Aw, that's cute," Dan replies, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "I don't think I could be much happier, either."

"You're my favorite person," I whisper, my eyelids weighed down with exhaustion.

"You're my favorite person, as well," he replies, and it's the last thing I hear before I fall asleep.

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The title of this chapter makes me cringe but I suck at chapter titles and it was the best I can come up with so I guess we'll just have to deal. Also my mental and physical health are both deteriorating in a flaming ball of sadness and anxiety and I just have to stand back and watch and kind of just laugh at how my life is going down the drain. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll talk to y'all later. 💜