It’s your wedding.
You’re standing there at the alter with your best man, Fantasy. It’s been a rough week, but he always comes through when you need him. His niece is the flower girl, YA, who got so nervous when she saw all the people she dropped her flowers and started crying. She’s still a little immature, and quite emotional. This is all new for her.
Following her is your extremely hungover bride, Romance, shaking her head the whole time. She’s seen it all before. Her father, Horror, is giving her away and glaring at you the whole time. You know he’s just waiting for something to go wrong.
After this many weddings, you guess the mystery must go away, because Thriller the priest is rolling his eyes waiting for the bride to finish getting down the aisle. Meanwhile the ring-bearer, Drama, has a mutinous look on his face–he’s been very clear he doesn’t want his mama to get married.
Damn status quo. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it.
Your brother, Sci-Fi, is already drunk and drifting off near a gardenia arrangement, probably spacing out. Kooky Aunt Magical Realism is in The Front Row in a funny hat, primed to catch the bouquet when it’s thrown. You can’t place it, but something’s always been off about her.
Ah, well. They’re your family and you love them.