So, I’m trying a new blog post idea in addition to my author interviews and book reviews - if this gets good feedback, I’ll keep doing it.
For my advanced fiction writing course this fall, my professor will give me different prompts, and I have to spend 15-30 minutes writing a very short story featuring the prompt. My lovely followers on Twitter voted for the “realistic mean girl” story, so I hope you enjoy this one! Please give me your feedback on my Twitter post so I can decide if I’ll keep posting my short stories. I included the prompt below so you could see what I had to write about.
Choose a dramatic scene that might happen to a family or a close-knit group of friends (4 or 5 people). It could be happy (like a wedding) or tragic (like a car crash). Narrate the scene using third person omniscient point of view, in which we see through the eyes of each character at least once.
[Adapted from 3 a.m. Epiphany.]
What a Beautiful Wedding
(Inspired by the Panic! At the Disco song I Write Sins, Not Tragedies)
On a bleak Saturday morning in October, whispers raced through the wedding party like wildfire, each murmur igniting a spark that fueled the gossip of the day.
“Haven’t you heard?”
“It’s about Kris, isn’t it?”
“It’s always about Kris.”
“Well, what is it now?”
“I heard that…”
“...no, she wouldn’t!”
“It is her wedding, after all...no one in their right mind…”
“She’s never been in her right mind, now, has she?”
“Ladies, ladies, please,”
Anne said sharply, waving her hand at the group of whispering bridesmaids. She was desperate to get them to stop speaking of Kris in that way. After all, a bride’s wedding day was supposed to be a happy one. And if it wasn’t happy, then Anne wouldn’t get paid. Sometimes being a wedding planner meant that you did everything in your power to keep the bride in a good mood, and Anne was hell-bent on making sure that this particularly juicy piece of gossip didn’t get back to Kris.
Anne’s paycheck depended on it.
One of the girls looked up from their little circle and gave Anne a go-to-hell look, and promptly resumed gabbing.
Anne rolled her eyes. Since when did young adults get to be so...so...annoying?
“Ian!” One of the girls squealed delightedly as a lanky bartender plopped down in one of the empty chairs nearest them. The squealing girl draped her arm over the bartender’s shoulder and nuzzled up to him.
How obvious. And sickening, thought Anne.
“How’re my favorite girls on this ‘ere right special occasion?” Ian said, his Cockey accent making him irresistible to the already-besotted young bridesmaids. And he knew it. He smiled to himself. He quite loved his job.
“Better, now that we’ve got a bit of leverage over Kris. Hopefully once she knows that we know, then she can pay for our dresses like we’ve been asking,” a frizzy blonde slurred.
Ah. Ian had forgotten that the drinks he had mixed for their wild bachelorette party the previous night were a little on the stronger side.
“Ooh, do tell,” he purred, nudging the hungover girl off him and leaning forward in his chair, ready to hear more Kris stories. He had already heard his fill last night, but he found them rather entertaining. That, and it was a bartender’s duty to know the dirt on everyone - especially if it involved him.
“Well, I heard from Callie that Kris slept with someone last night, but I don’t know who,” a brunette grinned, clearly enjoying herself.
“Mmm,” Ian mused. “Interesting.”
One of the more hungover girls propped herself up on her elbows and stared at Ian.
“Why is it interesting?” She asked loudly.
Ian grinned. “Well, because, love, you’d think that the bride wouldn’t want to get caught the night before ‘er wedding, so she’d be a bit more careful, wouldn’t she?”
“One would think,” said a gruff voice.
“Haven’t you people ever heard of closing a damn door?” Marc grunted, slamming the conference room’s double doors for added effect. He looked over in the corner and saw a haggard woman with dark bags under her eyes. She kind of glanced up at him when he walked in the room, but focused her attention back on the phone in her hand. She seemed to be furiously typing a message.
“What’s the matter, mate?” Some idiot with black eyeliner said from among a group of girls.
“The matter is that you’re being very loud, and that’s the bride you’re talking about,” Marc responded. “Show some respect.”
The man stood up and stepped out of the circle of girls. He wore a stupid grin on his face and looked quite proud of himself.
“I only show respect to people who deserve it, then.”
Marc was stunned. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. No one had ever talked back to him like that before, probably because they were scared he’d bodyslam them if they did. Being a hardened Harley rider had its privileges.
“How would you like it if someone was spreading gossip about you?” Marc grumbled, deciding not to beat up the skinny kid on his niece’s wedding day.
The man - Ian - seemed to think about this for a minute.
“Well, I wouldn’t be caught doing anything worth gossiping about in the first place,” he grinned once again.
Marc couldn’t help but nod his head appreciatively. That was a pretty good comeback.
Marc was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the conference room’s doors being violently yanked open.
What a scene. Her wedding planner Anne had been kind enough to let her know what was going on.
As Kris looked at the circle of open-mouthed girls, her uncle Marc, and Ian the bartender, she suddenly realized just how those rumors were getting spread about her.
“What the hell is going on here?” Kris shouted, storming up to her bridal party. They shrunk back in horror - an angry bride on her wedding day might possibly be the most fearsome thing in the world.
“I’m out in the dressing room when I hear the waiter pass my door, talking at the top of his voice about me sleeping with some guy right before my wedding day!”
Callie, her red-haired maid of honor, looked like she was holding back a small grin. The other party members seemed to be on the verge of tears. Ian stood up and tiptoed out of the ring of girls.
“Why would you dare to have the nerve to speak about me like this?” Kris growled, letting go all of her frustrations from the previous night.
“We didn’t mean it, Kris,” Amanda squeaked. “We’re sorry!”
Kris smiled inwardly, quite excited to see the upcoming look of shock on the faces of her bridal party.
“Well,” Kris said, looking at Ian, who had just sidled up beside her.
“I’m not sorry.”
And Kris took Ian’s arm and walked out of the conference room, leaving behind a stunned wedding planner who wouldn’t be getting a paycheck, a bridal party that posted the scandal all over social media, and a confused uncle who decided the day shouldn’t be put to waste so he would help himself to the reception food.
I hope you all enjoyed this! If you’d like to see more of my writings, just let me know!