Playing: [marry me - thomas rhett] ‎ 1:12━━●━━━3:06 ♪ ♬ “I'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back/I'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask/Yeah, she wanna get married, but she don't wanna marry me.”

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Percy hadn’t planned to show up early.

He told himself he’d slip in quietly, sit in the back, be a good friend, smile at the right moments, pretend this day didn’t feel like saltwater flooding his lungs.

But the second he stepped into the venue — dressed in a black suit, black tie, hair slightly mussed like he’d fought the wind outside — he felt it.

This wasn’t just a wedding. It was a goodbye he never agreed to.

He lingered at the doorway, gripping a silver flask in his pocket so tightly his knuckles went white. He’d filled it with cheap whiskey that burned like hell going down — anything to keep the tears from forming.

He took a slow sip, exhaled shakily, and slipped into the very back row before anyone could notice. Just another guest. Just another face.

Except he wasn’t. Not to himself.

Not when it came to you.

He watched people bustle around — flowers being fixed, chairs straightened, soft music humming under the chatter — but he didn’t hear any of it. Not over the memory echoing in his mind:

The night he almost kissed you.

Gods, it hit him harder than the whiskey.

He remembered standing too close, the two of you laughing about something stupid, the world narrowing to just you. He remembered leaning in, heart pounding, breath catching—

And then panicking. Pulling away. Laughing it off. Pretending he didn’t feel what he felt.

He never asked if you felt the same. He never let himself know.

Now it didn’t matter.

Not when Jason Grace — golden boy, lightning-born, perfect in ways Percy never could be — stood at the altar straightening his cuffs, trying not to look nervous.

When Percy got the invitation, he’d stared at it for an hour before finally whispering, “Too late. I’m too damn late.”

He sank deeper into his seat as guests began filling in, his chest tightening with every passing minute.

He told himself he was happy for you.

He told himself he could handle this.

He told himself he could stay invisible.

Percy swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He lifted the flask again, letting the burn ground him as the music shifted — the cue that everything was about to start.

He kept replaying that night in his head, the one where he almost kissed you. The one where he hesitated. And now here he was, standing in the back row while you married someone else. When he saw the doors begin to open, his chest tightened.

This was it. Too late to say anything. Too late to change anything. All he could do was watch you walk down the aisle… and pretend his world wasn’t cracking apart with every step you took toward Jason.