“Wait, we need a witness,” Sebastian says. Almost immediately, the bathroom door opens, and a younger man walks out, wearing a suit that’s at least two sizes too big for him. “Hey, you.”
He startles and then looks between us, eyes wide. “M-me?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, we’re friendly.”
“Speak for yourself,” Grady mutters. I nudge him playfully and reach up to kiss his cheek.
“Do you have a minute?” Sebastian asks. “We just need you to observe.”
“I…” He actually pulls up his sleeve and checks his watch. “I think so. What do you—what are you doing?”
“We’re getting married,” I reply brightly. It’s totally normal for people to get married in the bathroom hallway of a bar on a Sunday night. Everyone does it.
“Uh… okay.”
“I’m Lake,” I say, holding out my hand. He takes it tentatively. I don’t shake too hard because he kind of looks like a deer in the headlights, and he might take off if hereallygets startled. That’s what deer do. “This is my husband-to-be, Grady. And our official celebrant, Sebastian, who can totally legally do this and make it binding.”
“That is the complete opposite of what I said,” Sebastian remarks. “But sure.”
“Izaac,” the man says, a little more confidently. Makes sense he should know his name. Even these two drunks can remember their names. For now.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Do I have to sign something?” he asks. “Because I’m not comfortable with that.”
“You don’t need to sign anything,” Sebastian assures him. “Just watch.”
He nods. “Will this take long? I’ve only had three of my five drinks. I still have a—” He stops and fishes out his phone from his pocket. “A negroni and an espresso martini. There are ten, but I split the list in two.”
That’s a weirdly specific list. “We’ll even buy you the last two.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“Ready?” Sebastian asks. When no one disagrees with him, he clears his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to witness the joining of Lake McKenna and Grady Donehue. Their love story began last New Year’s Eve, when Lake—”
“What are you doing?” Grady interrupts.
“I’m telling your love story,” he answers, like Grady is an idiot for even asking.
“Why?”
“Because that’s what you do at weddings. I introduce myself—”
“You didn’t do that,” I point out.
Sebastian frowns, his glasses slipping down his nose. He pushes them back up with his index finger. “Right, good point. I’m Sebastian Devlin, and I’ll be your authorised officiant today to join these two men in matrimony.”
Grady groans. “Can we just skip to the ‘I do’ part? What is all this bullshit?”
“It’s proper process, Lord Farquaad,” Sebastian says sarcastically.
“Who?”
“You can’t seriously not know who I’m talking about.”
“He’s from the firstShrek,” Izaac helpfully offers.
“What does he have to do with this?”
