God, she was so exhausted because of this wedding.

She was well aware that this was not US, that this was a Slavic wedding. Different culture, different people, different wedding and all... But she was the biggest difference present.

Those people were not necessarily cruel, but their staring was annoying. Especially the elderly. Brenda was dead sure she gave one of the grandmas a heart attack back in the church.

Furthermore, almost no one spoke English, at least not on a level to hold a comfortable conversation.

Nonetheless, she sipped her drinks, she ate her food quite excellently actually, and she danced her songs, usually alone in a circle.

She was here just for the bride either way. Olga was a sweet girl who worked in her company. She was her friend, and it was kind of her to invite her to her own wedding.

She sat on her chair, her manicured hand made sure her red dress sat appropriately on her.

The light reflected her long dark leg through the slit of her dress. Brenda sighed and sipped her drink, wondering when it would be appropriate to leave.