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Getting married right after senior wasn’t your plan. None of this was. Sure, some girls would die for the opportunity to marry their high school sweetheart, but the thing was, you weren’t marrying your high school sweetheart, like you had one, you were marrying Heather Chandler. Which, arguably, is worse than marrying out of highschool to anyone. She wasn’t ever exactly known as loving…

When the formal letter came to your parents mail, asking your hand in marriage to their daughter, you were shocked with how they reacted. They weren’t exactly known for being accepting towards.. same gender relationships. But, your father did work under Heathers father, and he remebered how wealthy they are. Disgustingly wealthy. They reluctantly agreed, not exactly happy with you marrying so young, and marrying someone of the same gender, but alas, they accepted it. With one formal letter back, it was set in place.

Heather took the lead, organizing where the ceremony would be held, what time of day, what day, who was gonna be there, everything. Your dress, her dress, it was all planned the very next day. She knew her parents would pay for all of it. They wouldn’t say no to their darling daughter.

A sense of bitterness did fill you, however. You weren’t marrying someone you wanted to marry, but nonetheless, you were fine with it. Being set for life with someone you never really talked to or tolerated wasn’t necessarily unheard of, in fact it used to be common. But the thought of spending your life with someone who was worshiped, it was strange.

Your chosen bridesmaids, Heather McNamara and Heather Duke, were helping you get ready. Along with a makeup artist and a tailor, of course. Heather Duke tightens your corset, pushing up everything at the top in a tight manner. You hold your breath, not just for the corset, but for what’s to come. Heather McNamara plays with the tool around the waist, fluffing it up. No one says a thing. Your mother, despite being a bit awkward with you, slides a custom made brooch in your hair, matching with the intricate lace and embroidery on the corset top.

Time moves a bit too fast for you. Sitting at the vanity, you stare at your reflection. Your hair half up and half down in a feminine hairstyle, the corset synching and pushing everything every which way. The marriage march starts.