How was it possible for two people to look that happy getting married by an Elvis impersonator in a drive-through? Brian had pulled into the first chapel they'd found. There wasn't time for a long ceremony. They all had to be onstage in a couple of hours.
Sed grinned as Myrna and Brian recited their vows and exchanged rings. The size of Myrna's rock put Jessica's cheap piece of shit to shame, but Sed was very conscious of the discarded ring's weight in his hip pocket as Brian slid a platinum band on Myrna's finger.
They'd put the top down on Myrna's pink convertible '57 Thunderbird coupe. Brian sat on the back of the front seat with Myrna on his lap. Trey, the best man, sat in the middle beside the happy couple. Sed sat on the passenger side as their second witness. He supposed that made him the maid of honor. Always a bridesmaid…
"I now pronounce you husband and, uh, wife," the Elvis justice of the peace said. "I say, uh, you may kiss your beautiful bride."
Brian kissed Myrna deeply. She clung to his shoulders, the Vegas sunshine making her auburn hair glow like fire. She looked absolutely stunning in her white gown. Sed wondered if they'd even make it back to the tour bus before Brian had it off her.
Eric, who sat behind Jace on the motorcycle next to the car, cheered.
"Congratulations." Sed reached behind Trey to pat Brian on the shoulder.
The couple continued to kiss. And kiss. And kiss. Tug at each other's clothes. Kiss some more.
"You guys," Trey protested. "You're making Jace blush."
The newlyweds drew apart and stared into each other's eyes, both of Brian's surrounded by dark purple bruises. "God, I love you," Brian murmured. He kissed her again, before drawing away to stare at her with the stupidest grin on his face. She smiled just as stupidly, love shining in her eyes.
Sed had had that. Once.
But no longer.
Stupid Jessica. Sed crossed his arms over his chest, trying his damnedest to be happy for Brian, no matter how miserable the occasion made him feel.
"Are we going to sit here all day?" Trey asked.
"You act like we're ordering burgers and fries," Brian said, glaring at Trey.
"Well, what do you expect? We are in a drive-through. Hey, Elvis!" Trey called at the window. "Can we get ketchup with that?'
"One marriage license is all you shall receive from The King. Move along, folks," Elvis said, his accent evaporating. "We've got a line today."
They slid down into the white leather bench seat and Myrna shifted to sit on Trey's lap so Brian could drive back to the tour bus.
As they peeled out of the lot, Myrna toyed with Trey's hair. "How's your head, sweetie?"
"Hurts like a sonuvabitch."
"You need to go to the hospital and get checked out," Myrna said. "You look pale." Using her fingertips, she tested his forehead for fever.
"That's how the best man always looks when his best friend gets shackled with a ball and chain."
"Ball and chain?" She poked him in the ribs and scooted over to Sed's lap. Sed wrapped an arm around her back. "Sed doesn't insult me."
"Not to your face," Trey murmured. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Myrna was right. Trey didn't look well. At all.
Myrna's mouth dropped open and she turned her head to glare at Sed. "What did you say about me?"
"I'd never say anything bad about you, Myrna." He shrugged. "Well, except you have bad taste in men."
She grabbed his chin between her thumb and forefinger. "Don't be insulting my husband."
"Yeah," Brian said, an ear-to-ear grin plastered to his face, "don't be insulting her husband." He wrapped his right hand around her ankle beneath her plain white wedding gown. At the top of the steering wheel, the wide platinum band on his left ring finger caught the afternoon sunshine. Sed stared at it. That symbol of together forever.
Forever.
"Eh, I'm just jealous," Sed said quietly. He hugged Myrna affectionately and she placed a kiss on his temple.
"I hope you find happiness, Sed," she said. "I really do."
Only one woman could make him happy. And it just so happened that she despised him.
But he could never despise her. He hoped the money he'd given her at the club had been enough to help her out. If only Sinners' third album had gone platinum a few months earlier. He could have afforded to buy her a nice ring and put her through law school. Then she'd have never left him in the first place.