Everything Looks Better Ch. 04

I appreciate your comments and I take them very seriously, probably more than I should. However, this story is already tightly plotted. If you are not enjoying the ride so far, please step out of line. This ride is not for you.

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Drake House, Zanarkand

Raine couldn't breathe.

The wedding dress had been an entire size too small to begin with, but the extra five pounds she'd gained from a semi-strict diet of noodles and cheese didn't help, either. After Auron returned to Zanarkand from his 3 month hiatus, her appetite had returned with a vengeance.

So that Raine could at least wear the dress, a seamstress had worked very hard yesterday, although breathing room must have cost extra, a luxury Jory Drake's mother refused to pay for. In fact, Raine was convinced Mrs. Drake specified to the tailor the dress need not be comfortable, it just had to get through the next several hours without ripping. Of course, Mrs. Drake insisted Raine buy the dress one size too small to begin with to motivate her into losing a little more weight before the wedding day. She remembered Mrs. Drake had pinched the skin under Raine's chin like she was a piece of gecko meat up for inspection. It had been humiliating.

Alone in one of the upstairs guest rooms, Raine was fully dressed, hair done, make-up on. Her bridesmaids, Jory's sisters, came in a flurry of sarcastic comments on her chipped nails, dry ends and dark circles under her eyes, weaved in some blonde hair extensions, plastered her up like a doll and then left to tend to themselves. Apparently they disappeared someplace where Raine's hideousness wouldn't distract them.

Approaching the window bench, Raine didn't dare sit, afraid of tearing a seam or launching a button, but managed to gather the folds and lace so she could kneel up. As she peered down to the ocean-side backyard, guests were already funneling in, the ushers accompanying the older women in on their arms. The chairs had all been set up with perfect precision, the VIP seats in the front roped off with white lace and peonies and the alter faced the water, weaved with the same lace and flowers. She recognized her grey-haired co-anchors sitting in the middle, amongst the journalists not assigned to the cover the wedding, as well as former Zanarkand Abe players who played alongside Tidus when he was alive. Raine wasn't even sure how they got invited. Mrs. Drake took care of all that. All of Jory's teammates from the Zanarkand Duggles, his coaches and most of their graduating class were sifting in, spilling into any leftover space on the bridal side. Sphere-cams jerked around the guests, buzzing around the more familiar faces like machina parasites, attaining footage for whatever network they were owned by. Straight below, on the veranda, reporters who hadn't gotten an invite covered the occasion, which had been labeled the largest sports event since last year's Blitzball Finals. Raine was the newest and youngest sports anchor in Blitzball history and Jory was the latest Duggles' rookie. Jory and Raine were Zanarkand's new celebrity darlings, according to the media.

Like funerals, big weddings were another lie. Another show for the sake of other people and it made her sick.

Great-Aunt Naya was sitting near the front, intently reading the wedding program, by herself on account of Great-Uncle Cetan's stroke last year. Raine had hardly seen Aunt Naya since the wedding planning commenced, although she had made Raine a beautiful quilt for her bridal shower that no one seemed to notice amidst all the shiny kitchen wares, suggestive lingerie and a collection of food-storage plastics that initiated a wave of hot sweats among the other women.

Panning her eyes to the outskirts of the yard, Raine searched for the familiar red cloak flapping in the salty ocean air, but she'd been without the comfort of those visions for months now.

With a tickle of panic, Raine paced a little to burn off the extra nervous energy, padding around the carpet in her nylons, keeping away from the mirrors if she could help it. The person in those mirrors was beautiful, but she was a stranger to Raine.

A brisk knock at the door stopped her in her tracks. "Yes?"

Darwin, the wedding planner Mrs. Drake hired, came in armed with a clipboard and a pen accessory behind his ear. He had been nice enough to come to Raine at the beginning of the planning for her thoughts, but she suspected Mrs. Drake put a stop to that when she didn't approve of Raine's decisions.

"Fifteen minutes, okay Raine?"

"Okay."

Closing the door, he looked around the room. "Where are your bridesmaids?"

"I don't know. Check downstairs." Raine tried her very best to stifle her sarcasm, but a little exuded by.

"They should be up here with you," he said, with a touch of irritation and shook his head as if he simply did not have time to bother. "Mrs. Drake wanted me to make sure you were wearing this."

Darwin held up his closed hand and a lovely gold jeweled bracelet dangled from his fist.

"It's beautiful. Who does it belong to?"

"I assume Mrs. Drake." Darwin tucked his clipboard under his arm and took a clasp in each hand. He made a gesture for Raine to extend her hand.

"Is it my something borrowed?" she asked flatly, aware she had nothing old or blue to accommodate the tradition.

"Yes. It will pass for something old, as well. The dress is new...what's your something blue?"

"Nothing. My eyes."

"That will do." Darwin cocked his head to give her offered hand a second look. "Actually..."

Raine frowned. "What?"

"I've been instructed to—"

Darwin picked up her other hand, the right hand, and hesitated when he saw the uneven scar wrinkling her wrist, punctuated with smooth slashes where the stitches had been. Raine flushed when Darwin decided to overlook it and clasp it on anyway. How conveniently the bracelet concealed the old wound.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Darwin asked when he'd arranged the bracelet so the jewels were all on the outside of her wrist.

"Could you make my dress a size bigger in fifteen minutes?"

Lips pinched with humor, he circled her around to inspect the buttons, adjust the bow at the small of her back and straighten her veil. "Just get through the wedding and I'll see what I can do at the reception to give you a little breathing room."

"Have you seen Jory?"

"Downstairs last I saw. But don't you dare go looking for him. It's bad luck, you know."

"Then I must have slept through my good luck."

Smiling sadly, the wedding planner held his clipboard to his chest. "This is just one day. I know Mrs. Drake has taken it over and it doesn't really feel like your day, but when it's over, it will just be you and your husband and that makes it all worth it."

"You're right, thanks," she said automatically, pasting a smile on her face.

He squeezed her shoulder and checked something off his clipboard as he left the room and Raine wondered what was on his list. Bride Appeased? Check.

Darwin left and Raine swung around to the window again to check the guests. None of them was wearing a red hapi and carrying a sword.

Had it been 15 minutes yet? Raine wasn't sure if she was supposed to keep track or if Darwin was coming back up to get her when it was time. Curling her first two fingers into the heel straps of her wedding shoes, she carried them into the empty hall, taking the stairs in just her stockings. Some of Jory's groomsmen were palling around in the den, but Jory wasn't among them, and the caterer was in the kitchen barking orders about cake and appetizers to his sous chefs. Raine slipped by unnoticed.

Mrs. Drake's shrill voice leaked into the house through the veranda, giving last minute instructions to Darwin. Raine wasn't in the mood for her hypercritical looks and darted through the first door she found. Engaging the latch very gingerly, Raine waited in darkness for the dialogue to pass.

"You gave Raine the bracelet?" Mrs. Drake asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is she wearing it on the right hand?"

"Of course, as per your instructions."

"Good, now where is my son?"

"I haven't found him yet, ma'am," Darwin said reluctantly.

"Did you check..."

Hand on the knob, Raine strained to hear Mrs. Drake through the door, until another sound in the room alerted her. For the first time, Raine's eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to determine where she was. Standing on the top landing of the basement stairs, Raine discovered there was a light on downstairs, but it was too dim to be a main room light, it had to be from one of the side-rooms.

The basement was mostly wainscoting, clapboard and dark wood floors covered with trophy fiend hides. It was Mr. Drake's part of the house, probably the only place he could put his feet up and have a drink without worrying about glass rings on the tables and Raine almost felt badly for him, save for the unsolicited squeeze of her ass during the rehearsal dinner when no one was looking.

Raine heard it again. It was a continuous pulse, soft, unrelenting, and accompanied by a deep sense of dread, so tangible she could taste it. Stepping down the first few steps, she paused to listen, decided it was definitely coming from the basement, and crept down further. Light from one of the guest rooms seeped into the main room and Raine could just make out the shapes of the overstuffed leather chairs with subtle glints of brass grommets, and the billiard table in the center of the room.

She approached the guest room at an angle, staying out of the slant of filtered lamp light, the rhythm she was hearing was wet, delicate and somehow mechanical and it occurred to Raine it might have been a leaky faucet from the laundry or the inner workings of the machina in the utility room.

Of course, it was neither.

Her husband-to-be was inside, standing at the corner of the bed, pants around his ankles, flanking Lindsey Seawell's knees around his waist. Raine realized the sound she was hearing was the faint, constant slap of skin on skin.

Withdrawing into the shadows, Raine's face boiled in chagrin. She pressed her fingers primly against her mouth, fretfully wondering if this would make him late to the altar. Darwin said 15 minutes almost 10 minutes ago, but after a quick second look, Raine could tell they were almost done. Jory was forcing air out of his clenched teeth like he usually did when he was close, and if Jory was as thoughtful to Lindsey as he was to Raine, Lindsey would have her turn on her own time.

Raine thought she would be angrier seeing them together, but she was remarkably indifferent as she collected as much of her dress as she could and tip-toed back to the stairs. She tried not to make them creak as she headed back to the ground floor, but a section of lace escaped, her foot came down on the hem and she collided against the steps. Her shoe straps were still tangled in her fingers and they slammed against the stairs as her hand came down to brace her fall. The racket was thunderous in the basement acoustics and she held her breath. The sounds of sloppy love-making had stopped and Raine only heard the high-pitched hum of her own mind.

"What was that?" Lindsey Seawell whispered after some time.

Raine was on her feet in an instant and she didn't care how much noise she made as long as she got the hell out of there before anyone saw her. Beating up the stairs, she crashed into the door, flew into the foyer hall, and kicked it shut.

Out of breath, Raine propped against the wall, wishing she had some chest room to take deeper inhales. In attempt to appear ordinary, she paused at the foyer mirror to check her make-up. She was breaking out in a chilly sweat from her race up the stairs and she would likely catch hell if her make-up smeared off, if not from Mrs. Drake, then the sister who had applied it.

Quickening down the second-floor stairs, Darwin appeared, alone, waving his clipboard at her and holding her white bouquet. The flowers had been under lock and key as far as Raine knew, as this was the first moment she had laid eyes on it.

"Raine, it's time. This way." Whisking her out the open front door, Darwin made time to stop at the threshold so she could align her shoes to her feet and in a moment she was clapping up the walkway with the wedding planner, holding up the bottom of her dress so it didn't drag, heading into the narrow, shady space between the garage and the house. Jory's sisters were all lined up, dressed in the mauve dresses Mrs. Drake picked out, exhibiting the bouquets of white peonies that made Raine's skin itch.

Gasping, Darwin's hand came up to obscure his mouth, the clipboard held tight to his chest. "Okay, don't panic."

"What?"

"It's okay, Raine, everything will be fine, just...nobody don't look down."

Raine dropped her gaze. A flap of torn lace was waving in the breeze by her feet, probably from her mishap on the basement stairs. Squatting, lips pursed, Raine grabbed it, ripped it with a heavy rending sound and tossed it into the wind. One of the bridesmaids took in a severe breath.

For whatever reason, it made her feel better. Lighter.

Darwin's jaw dropped, his face going white, and he began fanning himself with his clipboard. "I can't...oh...oh...we don't have time. The music is starting. Where's Mr. Drake?"

"Right here." Jory's father came wandering around the corner, relaxed, on his own time schedule.

Inserting the bouquet into her hands, Darwin began fussing with the ruffles of Raine's dress to disguise the missing piece. Raine honestly couldn't tell with all the folds and pleats where the tear was anymore, although she was pretty sure Mrs. Drake would know and Raine suspected that was what Darwin feared, too. With a spear of guilt, Raine realized her brash action might warrant Darwin a stern lecture.

Mr. Drake sidled next to her, lewdly peering down into the front of her dress, without the grace to appear apologetic and tortured like Auron did when she caught him looking. Glancing nervously ahead to see how many of Mr. Drake's daughters saw, Raine realized in relief they all had their backs turned, waiting for the promenade to begin.

She wanted Auron to give her away.

Not only did Mrs. Drake forbid it—"I will not have a homeless man in my son's wedding!"—but Auron's 10 years was up months ago and Raine suspected he had gone home to Bevelle where he was from. A goodbye would have been nice, but Jory's proposal had come with an ultimatum and it wasn't an easy one for Raine. Auron had maintained his nobly avuncular connection to her right up to the end, but it wasn't enough for Raine. When she told Auron he couldn't come around anymore, he accepted it with his usual taciturn style and was gone 15 seconds later, with nothing more than a single, apathetic nod for a parting gesture. Another thing about Auron: he always respected her wishes, even if it wasn't really what she wanted.

Admittedly, Jory was a long way off from next best. But he was still the shortest way to forgetting Auron.

The wedding planner began to give direction on the timing, even though they had all practiced yesterday at the rehearsal dinner. The music swelled and the first bridesmaid paced out, meeting a groomsman who came from another part of the yard and they walked down the aisle, out of sight around the corner of the house where Raine couldn't see. Perfectly timed, the wedding planner circled a finger to indicate to the next bridesmaid and as the second sister met the next groomsmen, Raine felt a strange gravity in the air. For a reason she could never quite pinpoint, she craned her neck up to the roof of the garage, startled by a flash of red, gone so quick she thought she imagined it.

"Raine," Darwin hissed.

Next to her, Mr. Drake had taken a step forward to begin the wedding march, but now he was looking at her with just a trace of concern.

To be sure, she glanced up at the roof again, but nothing was there but shingles and fallen acorns from the oak towering over it.

"I'm ready," she said coolly and let Mr. Drake lead her towards the altar.

Room 4, Rin's Travel Agency, Macalania

Rolling her head off the pillow, Raine squinted at the yellow glow of light filtering in from the bathroom, smacking distastefully on the dry acid burn of bile at the back of her tongue. Her coat and boots had been removed, the coverlet considerately arranged around her, her garter placed within reach on the bedside table. Outside, night had fallen, throwing off her sense of time. How long had it been since she'd collapsed at the Travel Agency's stoop? A few minutes? An hour? A day?

Before she could worry where Auron was, a shadow darted by the open bathroom door, focused on a task. Scooting to the end of the bed, she sauntered across the room to the bathroom door, yawning, picking something crusty out of the corner of her eye. As she entered the bathroom, Raine first saw Auron's molded leather cuirass propped up like a limbless dummy in the bathtub. After, she discovered Auron hunched over the sink, shirtless, scrubbing his red cloak with a wet hand-towel. At her arrival, he promptly scooped his sunglasses from the ledge of the basin and slid them on.

"Oh, sorry," she said, averting her sleepy eyes, although he seemed more concerned of her scrutiny of his facial scar than his nude chest.

"I'm almost done."

Peeking bashfully, she admired how thick the hair grew on Auron's chest and belly. Jory always had to shave his during Blitzball season, but it never germinated quite like Auron's, even when he let it.

As Auron worked at the stain, something bright pink peeped out behind him, momentarily slipping into view at his waist, before the casual slant of his head flicked it back. Raine edged around him. Normally concealed under his armor, a ponytail sprouted from a clump of hair at the nape of his neck and it dangled as far as his hip, tied off with a faded, frayed pink ribbon with blue polka dots. More than half of it had been sloppily and unevenly braided, but the top half wasn't, as though it had been braided for so long the tail had time to grow several more inches.

Placidly, Auron's sunglasses peered over the top of his shoulder at her.

Her lips parted to say something teasing but instead, she pressed her lips together and twisted them knowingly. "Hmph."

"Hmph?" Auron arched a sardonic eyebrow.

Bracing for commentary on his unlikely accessory, his gaze was glued to her as she stepped back and leaned against the frame of the door. There was a time his hair had been long, all one length, but that had been for only a brief time when she was a child. Since Auron was always older, Raine had difficulty remembering him young.

"Sorry about your clothes."

"Clothes can be cleaned," he said. "How are you?"

"Embarrassed."

"I've been sprayed with worse," he chuckled. Draping the towel over the side of the sink, he gave the cloak a couple tentative sniffs. Satisfied, he turned to throw it over the shower rod. Raising the breast plate out of the tub, he swiftly slipped it back on, his fingers nimbly working the front clasps of his collar.