Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“You know I love you too, Cameron.” The phrase rolls right off my tongue, before I look back down at the lyric sheet we’ve been working on. I’m not surprised by Cameron’s admission of love, especially since we’ve only been growing closer since I’ve been back in the city. And honestly, I’ve wondered if the electric connection between us was love taking shape in the air itself, even if we didn’t have the name for it just yet. “And I think we could try a darker melody right here? What do you think? Something that sounds like it’s signaling the end of the world—”
“Marry me.”
My gaze shoots over at him, confusion filling my features. “Wait. What? Cameron, you know that I can’t just marry one of you—”
“Then marry us.” He sounds deadly serious as he walks over to my side of the table. “I don’t care, Alyssa. I just…I want this to be official.”
“I…don’t know if that’s legal anywhere, Cameron.”
“It’s not. I’ve looked into it.” He smirks before he goes on. “But…if we get married in Utah, I think they’ll basically treat it like a traffic ticket? Which shouldn’t be too bad. I mean, I’m sure the traffic tickets there are less pricey than the ones here, anyway.”
“…Do you think the other guys would be okay with it?” I muse. “It’s not like Rhys or Van have ever mentioned marriage around me before—”
“You two talking about marriage?” Rhys asks as he walks into the private room I’m working in with Cameron. “Is it something to do with a song? Because I’ve been working on my rhyming schemes, and I can probably come up with a few good ones for matrimony, like let’s see… minestrone, abalone, good baloney—”
“I just asked Alyssa to marry me,” Cameron clarifies.
“Oh,” Rhys says. His eyes brighten. “You know what? That’s not a bad idea.”
“Not a bad idea?” I look over at Rhys, wanting him to expand on his thought process. “As in, you actually want to get married? Or you’re looking at it like a tax break situation?”
“Of course I want to marry you, Alyssa,” Rhys says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I just didn’t think it was legal anywhere, so I never bothered getting my hopes up—”
Rhys then stops himself mid-sentence, as he looks down at my hands. “Wait. If you’re getting married to three guys, does that mean you have to wear like three different rings? Or should we just go all in on the same one?”
“I would think just the one?” I reply, completely unsure of the right answer.
“Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve never been too into the ring thing.” Rhys shakes his head as he speaks. “How would you feel about getting my ring tattooed on you somewhere, instead?”
“You know what? That’s not a bad idea.” I repeat Rhys’s answer from earlier, including the accent, lightly chuckling. He grins at me.
“…Is this why the work on the next batch of songs for the EP is taking so long?” Van walks into the room, his eyes scanning over each one of us. “Because everyone’s hanging out instead of working on anything? Like lyrics? Or I don’t know, song construction?”
“Can you relax about the next batch of songs?” Rhys rolls his eyes. “We’re still in tour mode, Van. We’re about five worlds away from putting out new music, even if the fans are practically begging us for it online.”
“Which is why if we’re going to get married, we should do it before we have to take the tour international,” Cameron adds to the conversation. “I’m thinking maybe in the next week or two?”
“Whoa, what?” Van looks over at me. “Who said anything about getting married? Is that something you are putting on the table, princess?”
“Actually, Cameron was the first to pop the question,” I reply with a wide smile. “But Rhys seems like he’s on board with it, too.”
“Hell yeah!” Rhys chuckles. “I’m completely on board with it, darling. Brilliant idea.”
“…Then, what are we waiting for?” Van says, before a grin spreads across his features. “Let’s take this show on the road.”
“You look fucking beautiful, babe,” Marina says, with tears in her eyes. She’s wearing a baby blue bridesmaid’s dress, her hair tied back into a neat bun, her wrists decked out with diamond bracelets. I’m positive that the outfit and the jewelry are courtesy of a combination of the money Marina pulled in for her role in that indie film, its trailer sweeping all over social media, and her rich boyfriend’s bank account, the guy seemingly not caring or noticing when Marina spent a few thousand dollars here and there.
“Thanks.” I smile back at her, nervously shaking out my arms, the white silk of the wedding gown slipping along my skin. I don’t know why I’m so anxious about the ceremony, since everything already looks so perfect. Rhys found someone to officiate the wedding, a younger woman with streaks of pink in her hair, and enough tattoos on her arms to rival Rhys’s sleeves. Van was in charge of the production of it all, meaning the music, the staging, and the photographs, even though we’d all agreed it’d be better to keep the photos to ourselves since we didn’t want our romance to overshadow the band’s success.