Charlie's POV

Sometimes I don't get you Americans, you have to make things always so complicated.
Alex hired a fucking wedding planner, we were going to see her for lunch today to discuss 'things'!

As if I'm not able to book a venue, call catering and buy a fucking dress myself. Boy was I wrong!

When we arrived we were greeted by Sharon and her assistant Joy (was that even her real name? Or was she called that for business reasons) and a shit load of up to the brim filled folders that took up the entire table of the restaurant leaving me wondering if we would actually get to eat something in this meeting.

After the initial small talk, Sharon turned to me and asked. "So, Charlie, how do you imagine your wedding?" She folds her hands with the long blood red fingernails in a praying position in front of her huge cleavage.
My eyes are transfixed by this and I snap out of my thoughts utterly unprepared. "Yeah, well." I look at Alex who gives me an encouraging smile. "Uhm, we thought maybe ...." I stutter like an idiot.

"Well we are here to help and guide you through the whole process." She interrupts me smiling condescendingly.
Yes, that's what she reminded me of the whole time - a praying mantis!
She will probably lash her claws at me any time now and swallow me whole.
Wait! What process is she talking about?

I say nothing to this and just stare at her, I probably look like a terrified little rabbit because I feel Alex putting his arm around my shoulders protectively.

The next half hour we talk about the invitations which I learn are 'the most important thing'. She shows us an endless amount of samples from the said folders and I hate each and every one of them.
They all look like fucking Prince William and Catherine are calling the other royals in for a feast.
When I don't decide on anything we move on to the table decoration, 'equally important', here we look at the other folder full of bouquets, plates and cutlery, glasses, table cloths and centrepieces. Apparently we have to decide on a colour scheme first.

When due to my lack of ecstatic response she moves on to the kind of rings we want and opens up yet another folder I jump up, take Alex's hand and blurt out, "would you excuse us for a moment, Sharon, I would like to have a word with my husband in private. We are back in a sec." I hold up my finger and with that I drag an utterly confused Alex out of the restaurant and onto the parking lot.

I stand there trying to calm myself down breathing slowly in and out. "Baby, what's wrong, why were you acting so strange in there?"
Alex wants to know holding me by my shoulders, bending down trying to look into my eyes although I keep my head down stubbornly.

I honestly can't understand why he doesn't feel the same but I try and make an effort explaining myself to him.

"Alex, haven't you seen the stuff they were showing us? What kind of candy floss, stupid, preppy, sugar coated, suburban wedding are they attempting to sell us here?"
He stares at me as if he is trying to figure out my problem. "I couldn't care less about the form of the knives or the colour of the napkins we use." I add exasperated, how can he not see that! He is a rock star and I'm a street artist for crying out loud. We're everything but conventional.

"That's just the way a wedding goes. Baby, don't worry about it, let them do their work. They are supposed to be one of the best." He tries to comfort me.

"No, Alex, I will not just go with it, I don't want a wedding like that, that's not me. Can you understand that? Does that make sense to you?" I nearly yell at him now although it's unfair, it's not his fault, I am probably the weird one here. I guess that's what they all think. That thought tips me from being angry to sad.

"Alex, can we please go home?" I ask my husband in a small voice my anger has subsided as tears threaten to fall from my eyes. No, stupid girl, pull yourself together. He will find you even more strange if you cry over something like that.
Alex looks at me for a moment in shock, then takes a deep breath. "Of course, Baby. Let me just get back in and explain to them, you go and sit in the car. Okay?" He places the keys in my hands and turns around to go back in while I nod and walk to the car.

He comes back a few minutes later, gets in the car and starts the engine, he pulls out of the parking lot and starts to drive without a word.
Brilliant, now he is mad at me. "I am sorry." I say. He probably slowly realises that I am a different girl than he thought I'd be, maybe he already regrets that he married me in the first place. I look out the window averting my face to not let him see that I am crying.

Then I feel a hand caressing my cheek. "Charlie." His voice is soft. "I just want you to be happy. Tell me what am I supposed to do?"

That is the problem, he didn't know me long enough before he married me or else he would have found out that I am not the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. It all makes sense now.

"It's like you want to change me completely, you don't want me to hang out with the street crew any more, we take the car everywhere and never just walk like we used to. You don't want me to go and paint on the pavement. You don't want me to prowl the city at night and now you want this barbie wedding. Maybe I am just not the person you want." I tell him my voice shaking.

By now we have reached his house and he turns off the car. "Charlie, stop that, it is stupid, what are you implying here?" He tries to hold my wrist but I have already left the car.
I am running towards the front door, open it and grab my skateboard that leans on the wall. I turn to leave passing Alex on his way to the house. He tries to hold me again but I just don't stop walking.

"Let me go, Alex. Please. I have to clear my head." I say and let the board slip to the ground jumping on it and pushing myself down the road, away from it all.

Notes

Urgh, they never stay happy for long, aye?