Santana and I rush out of the room so fast we almost got wedged in the doorway. The shrill is unmistakable, Ive heard it countless of times from when somebody stole her solos in Glee club. Sure enough, when we burst into Rachels room, we see her huddled in corner in a pool of white cloth, hugging her knees to her chest. The sight is worrying, making me forget that Im mad at her.

"Whats wrong now?" ask Santana, hovering over Rachels curled up figure, eyes beating down on her with nothing but annoyance. I get the feeling that this isnt Rachels first breakdown today, and I doubt its her last either. I peer over Santanas shoulder, not sure where I currently stand with Rachel.

"I tried the dress on," says Rachel, muffled in her sobs. She can barely string a sentence together right now, I dont know how shes going to go through an entire vow. "Because I had a feeling it wouldnt fit," she goes on, gasping for breaths. I heave a sigh when I see that she doesnt have any make-up on. That dress wouldnt survive a drop of mascara.

"It doesnt fit?" Santanas face is riddled with horror. "We tried it on yesterday, it fit like a glove!" My heart is pounding in my chest. Coming from someone who studies and cultivates the art of fashion, a garment that does not fit is as bad as not showcasing it.

"It does!" Rachel wails, only to fall back into a string of intense sobbing.

"So whats the damn problem?" Santana bellows, her whole face is red with infuriation. I crouch to my knees, pulling her face up by her chin. She looks at me through eyelashes stuck together. "Breathe, and tell us whats wrong."

Rachel must have been surprised that I was talking to her at all, let alone be concerned. She wears an incredulous look before she sucks in a deep breath, letting it out seconds later. Her breath smells oddly of alcohol. I would need alcohol too if it were my day. I repeat myself, asking her to enlighten us of her problem. She has a hard time getting words out through a series of hiccups that have formed but she finally manages a coherent sentence.

"It tore," she says. "I tried the dress on and the train got caught on the legs if the bed. I didnt notice so I tugged it forward-

"Stand up. Now," Santana hisses through clenched teeth. I can almost hear the rapid rush of her blood flow through her veins. I wouldnt want to be near Santana right now. I help Rachel to her feet and we get to study the damage in its entirety. Coming from a fashion lover, this is a nightmare within a nightmare.

Rachels dress is a classic with a voluminous skirt and a corset top. Ive only seen it once before this and it looked absolutely beautiful, like what you imagine a bride to look like but the mess that stands in front of me right now looks like that same bride fell into a giant sized paper shredder. The entire right side of the train is hanging loosely off Rachels hip. There is a gaping hole on her hip bone that reveals Rachels pastel pink panties along with a lot of leg skin. The salvageable parts of the dress are the top and the frontal part of the skirt, aside from that everything else is a mess. The entire room is silent. I can hear the bubbles of Santanas boiling blood burst.

"I can fix it," I say, taking a step forward to stand in between the two girls because my gut feeling tells me that if I dont act as an obstacle between the two, Rachel doesnt stand a chance. "I have some sewing essentials with me. I need an hour. Two tops." I dont know where this is coming from, but apparently Ive donned the red underwear today. Santana considers my proposal, Rachel weeping and wiping her tears away.

"Okay, but you make sure you fix it - nothing else," she tells me. I frown at her, not really comprehending what she means by that. Apparently my thoughts are riddled across my face, hopefully not in words, because she goes on to say, "I dont want no slits, no cut-outs, contrived backless shit. I want the same classic look, you get me?" I nod dutifully, but in my head, looking at the torn mess of a wedding dress, I have something quite different from what Santana envisions.

The odd thing is Rachel doesnt look invested in the least. Shes hysterical and on her toes, sure, but she looks far from where her physical being is. I wonder if this is normally how people are on their wedding day - here but not really. Rachel takes the dress off and curls into a chair in the corner in her slimming corset that Santana made her wear. I really think I should comfort her, I know I should, but what do I say? Its very difficult to comfort someone when you cant empathize with them. Santana leaves the room telling us that she needs to go pick up the minister, or a rabbi. Truth be told I dont know whose culture Rachel and Finn are following.

I go back into my room to fetch my sewing kit. Its a small one I pack with me all the time to fix torn pants or shirts. Quick fixes, mostly. These tools probably are having the joy of their life getting to fix a wedding dress. When I return to the room, Rachel is still weeping in her chair. The sound of her sobs send a guilty feeling inside my stomach. Finally, after only cutting away the loosely torn fabric of the dress, I drop my scissors and spin on my butt.

"Stop crying," I say, loud enough that she does and stares at me, confused-stricken and sad. "Im helping you, were all helping you. So stop crying."

She looks at me, baffled with eyes searching for some form of kindness. My anger has depleted. I still think shes vindictive and cunning but Ive always known she was, I just never thought that I would ever be one of her victims. I turn my back on her and continue to fix what is broken, ironically enough ignoring the mess that is more of importance.

"I shouldnt have intervene," says Rachel after a long period of absolute silence with nothing but the sound of the ticking wall clock passes. I dont turn to look at her, I deserve some form of dignity. "I now know what it feels when somebody takes control of something that should have been yours to decide."

Maybe in some sense I was angry at Rachel for being meddlesome, making me feel like pawns on a chess board but mostly it was because she was being devious, plotting everything behind my back. I felt betrayed more than anything but judging from what shes telling me, I know that she has some thoughts unknown to me that is tearing at her insides so I sigh wearily, climb to my feet and take a seat on the edge of the bed right across from her. There are still stains of tears in her eyes, she cheeks pale and her bright red. I cant help but to think how this shouldnt be the state of a bride. I ask her to tell me whats bothering her, and she sniffles.

"This isnt what I wanted," she tells me, her voice so in inaudible I had to strain my ears to decipher what she said. "This whole grand spectacle, this pressure, this expectation of Finn and I. It doesnt feel like its us anymore," Rachel desperately tells me, her words muffled in the sobs of her crying soul. "Do you remember how he proposed? A ring at the bottom of a glass. Simple. If it was really up to him and not what he thought I wanted, he wouldve gotten down on one knee in our apartment and proposed to me flat out but this whole thing now has manifested into a monster that scares me."

"What are you so scared of?" I ask, deeply curious. It took awhile for Rachel to get the words out of herself, as if saying those words made it all the more real.

"That we wont make it," she says. "Because right now, I dont think that we can. I mean, how do you commit to something with only half a heart?"

Now I understand her tears, her uncontrollable sobs. Its the fear eating up inside of her. Weddings do tend to filter out the weak, the pressure can be so daunting, some people dont survive the demands. And thats just the first leg of the race, the warm up round. Marriage is when those who couldnt survive the wedding but went ahead with it anyway to feed the optics eventually crumble. Rachel is right, how do you commit into something when your heart was half to begin with? I suck in a huge breath, feeling guilty for some reason. Was I too wrapped up in my own problems to realize my best friend was suffering under the weight of her own fear?

"Im sorry," she tells me. "I shouldnt have tried to force you and Blaine back together." I squeeze her hand and shake my head. All my anger and contempt have seeped out of my pores, now replaced with an empathy for Rachel.

"What do you want?" I ask her, which startles her for some reason. Maybe she hasnt been asked much of that in the process of her wedding planning. Maybe shes surprised shes being taken into consideration for once. "Tell me what you want, and well do it."

~~~~

30 more minutes to the wedding.

I changed everything about Rachels dress, much to Santanas dismay. Her exact words to me were, "You pretty much just F-ed up this entire ceremony with your blatant gayness!" but I happen to love it. Its shorter, and more efficient. Albeit the thing that completes her entire ensemble is the thrill in her face, the excitement.

Santana is yelling out orders and threats to the brides crew, telling us that if we miss our cue or trip down the aisle, she would have our asses chopped and hung over her fireplace. My blood runs cold wondering how she would react when this whole thing goes way out of plan. But I wont be alone, hopefully. We are waiting in the living room, where the balcony opens up to a breath taking view of the ocean. This is where we would start strolling down the beach to where the tent is and grace the beige colored carpet to where Finn would be waiting.

I tell Santana I need to go to the bathroom and she eyes me with daggers in her pupils, in fact Im pretty sure she used a knife stencil to draw out her kitty eye liner today. Maybe its her personality. I draw a huge breath and shut the bathroom behind me. Santana didnt allow phones to be with us because she didnt want a Mariah Carey ringtone to blare mid-ceremony. I had to hide this deep inside my underwear in places where only a few men have had the pleasure of making acquaintance with. I make sure to let the faucet run before I dial the number and press call. I feel like a criminal for some reason, and after today, in some peoples eyes, I probably will look like one.

The monotonous dial plays for a long awhile, and suddenly I envision how this whole thing could flop on its stomach. But when the voice breaks through, an involuntary sigh of relief escapes me. "Thank god, I thought you changed your mind."

"Were almost there. I brought in a party favor."

A loud bang on the door startles me that I nearly dropped my phone into the toilet. Santana is shrieking behind it, telling me to hurry up for one final brief through of the bridesmaids. "Make sure its grand, Logan," I whisper into the phone before storing it back into my special talents and flushing the toilet for realistic effect. Santana eyes me suspiciously when I open the door. I must have looked like a guilty felon, but Santanas gut isnt in its finest today so she ushers me to the line up and tells me to stay.

I feel really bad for Santana, how all her efforts to make this Rachels perfect day might go to waste but in the blur of all these grand spectacles, she failed to see what Rachel really wanted. In the grand scheme of things, shell understand. Hopefully before having our asses above her fireplace.

I look over my shoulder to where Rachel is and give her an assuring wink. As assuring as a wink can be, but she responds with a nod.

"Youre sure about this?" I turn around to find Blaine is standing there, dashing and dapper in a tux that was made for him. A lump forms in my throat and I quickly swallow it down before he notices my sudden change of demeanor. I havent seen him all day, I did spoke with him on the phone about this whole secret plan I have.

"Im never sure anymore," I say to him and he bites his bottom lip, an act that sends tremors down my back. I can almost feel his lips still on me, on every inch of my skin. He wasnt on board with the idea, and to be frank he wasnt a necessary accessory either. I think I was seeking for reasons to talk to him more than I was needing his help. He didnt seem like he wanted to talk to me either. I dont blame him. I wouldnt want to talk to me either after the way I treated him this morning.

As if what we did didnt mean anything. As if he didnt mean anything.

"Okay pipe down, everyone!" Santana yells over all of us, making her way to the front. "Its zero hundred hours and time for execution." My heart is suddenly racing. Santana lines us up in order of priority. Finns cousin, Daryl, is paired with Rachels cousin Jamie. They go first because they are the least important, followed by Santana and Sam then Blaine and I because Im the maid of honor. Noah is already at the altar with Finn. Noah is in on the plan, but Finn isnt. We didnt want to risk telling him. Not yet anyway. "Okay, first pair. Move."

The blood relatives exit the doorway and I watch as they grow smaller in size and finally disappear behind a glittery cloth where it is the entrance to the wedding. I hear a gentle melody playing inside the ceremony which will play throughout until Rachel makes her entrance. My stomach is in all kinds of knots. Santana reminds me to count to thirty before I start moving, and tells Rachel to do the same when I start walking. I start counting in my head, my nerves on a whole other scale. When I reach 30, I turn to Rachel and pull her into my arms, whispering so quietly into her ear that only she can decipher.

"The second you hear Party Rock Anthem, got it?" she nods and I let her go and start walking out of the house, through the patio and onto the sand.

I take a longer time to walk with my shoes burying into the sand with every step I take. The sky is a breath taking colour, my favorite colour. The waves crash gently onto the shoreline, rippling further into the coast as the tides heighten. For awhile, everything goes silent and I know this isnt my big day but I cant help but to picture how this would have been the perfect setting for a love so imperfect. In an ideal world, my love for Blaine would be nothing but a summer day - endlessly sunny but the reality is Blaine and I have morphed our love into something of dusk hour; the median, the grey area.

What does that mean?

We are merely coexisting, and the love we desperately crave for from each other is no longer there. We love still, but as halves. The concept of Blaine is intriguing, its exciting but how can you delve into something with halves? You dont build love with two pieces of heart, you build your own to give.

"Im sorry for leaving so abruptly this morning," he says to me and my heart cries at my guilt. I dont know what possesses me but I entwine my arm with Blaine. He flinches, but settles into it soon after.

"We need to talk," I tell him, because its the most logical thing to say, and most obvious thing to do.

"What happened last night didnt have to mean anything. We were drunk -"

"I wasnt drunk enough to forget how much I love your touch," I say so quietly the wind always blew my words away. I wish it had.

He halts abruptly and looks at me. Santana is going to kill us for missing a beat. "Youre killing me, you know that?" he snaps, startling me. His eyes read confusion, a look I can easily distinguish because when he is frustrated, his thick eyebrows morph into one and slants towards his nose bridge. "I thought you wanted me last night. I thought we werent over after all, that there was still a slight glimmer in our dying spark, then this morning you acted like you slept with Hitler or something! I know it was presumptuous to assume something based on a lot of drinks and carnal urges, but poster me a cliché but I thought we were more than just drunken sex."

My heart is pounding in my chest, my mind hammering from the prolong hangover, the wedding and now this - Blaine confronting me about something I thought wasnt of any precedence to him.

"Heres the truth, Kurt - I love you. I always have and I always will. I know my past says otherwise and you can dangle that over my head forever but fuck the past. This is me now - with absolute clarity. I love you, and I want you. I cant keep going back and forth, minding the steps I take because I dont know where I stand with you. Im sick of it. Now you know what I want. What do you want?"

Blaines timing is sardonically impeccable. The sun is dancing on the horizon, and in the corner of my eye I know Rachel is drawing nearer to us. Maybe Im just seeking for excuses to buy myself more time to fathom my feelings. I feel icky inside, like he made me chug a bucket of vile. I cant think about him, or the fact that the possibly to have him back literally is standing in front of me, bathed with the most beautiful fiery glow of the sun. I pull his arm in mine and practically sprint towards the tent. When we burst through the, all eyes are all on us and I wonder if they heard everything that went out before we appeared out here. I flush crimson wondering.

The melody is gentle, and follow the beat with each step I take, all the while avoiding Santanas deadly glare from the altar. I see my dad in the front row, peering his head over the crowd, and he frowns. Maybe my fear is riddled across my face. Between the plan and Blaines sudden confession, I am a ball of mixed emotions and none of which fathomable or comprehensible in my state of mind. Im practically trembling holding on to Blaines arm. He doesnt do anything to comfort me, which stings.

I hate myself for doing this, for feeling the way I feel. My desire for Blaine is like a swinging pendulum, and Im standing at the side watching it come close to me, and then further, and then back again. Its infuriating, and if Blaine could see into the operational room of my brain, maybe hed understand better - maybe he wouldnt think of me as his ex with a vengeance. When we arrive at the altar, I glance at Finn who looks down right terrified. Worse than he looked when he first had to take lead at sectionals competition back in glee club. I wonder if this plan would put him out of his misery - ease him.

"4 seconds behind. What the hell happened?" hisses Santana when we reach to the altar, and I reluctantly let Blaines arm go. He doesnt look at me nor whisper anything. Does he regret what he said? I push all of that away.

The plan is out of my hands now. I take peek at my phone, and my heart sinks when there is no text message or any form of update. My heart is thumping harder against my chest when the band switches to the traditional Here Comes The Bride.

Rachel appears through the curtain and everybody stands and watches her. Shes a beautiful bride, albeit that dress isnt exactly my first choice. I look over to Finn who is now sporting a small smile. If what Rachel told me was true, then Finn would be on board when this all goes into motion. As Rachel draws closer to the altar, I become a ticking time bomb. If the plan is a fail, I need to improvise a plan B.

She kisses her dads on both cheeks and steps up to the podium with Finns help. My stomach is turning and tossing. Rachel briefly shoots an urgent glance at me and I know that the plan isnt going to execute. I am about to go forth with plan B; start screaming and crying hysterically when the lights go out and bright strobes of the sunset burst through the seams. The crowd erupts in a murmur. In a short distance, I hear Finn asking, "What the hell?"

Santana tries to calm the crowd, telling them to relax while she pulls her phone out and dials a number but in that second, loud music blast through the speakers and sends the crowd into a frenzy. Moments later, a line of party goers dance into the ceremony, and everyones is dumbstruck and confused. Party Rock Anthem plays through the speakers with the fresh figures dancing with the beat. I hear Santana shrieking, trying to handle the crowd with Noahs help - though I think Noahs more fascinated than anything.

Rachel screams my name over the speakers and I know that its time. I pull Finn behind me. He resist at first but follows soon after when Rachel dashes past us. I push the minister, or priest or whoever that was going to officiate this ceremony and burst out of the tent through a small opening and onto the beach where I can barely see with the disappearing sunlight, but good enough that I can make out Finn and Rachel.

"Somebody better start explaining," Finn demands, his eyes darting between Rachel and I.

"I dont want this," says Rachel. The look on his face sends a pang to my heart. It hurts to know that my brother still has that little insecurity when it comes to Rachel. "This whole smoke and mirrors ceremony. I dont want this."

"Its a little late now, dont you think?" Finn furrows his brows at Rachel as if she had three heads and two tongues. "And what do you mean by smoke mirrors?"

"I want you, Finn," says Rachel, her voice quivering as if she might break any time soon. Suddenly, I feel so out of place. "From the very beginning, all I wanted was you but I got so caught up in proving our love to a bunch of people then it manifested itself into this giant monster of commitment that scared me. This whole thing - it scares me. But if I forget all those variables, if I dont consider the gravity of this and my eyes are only on you, I feel at peace."

Finns stern and confused expression relaxes, his shoulders fall and he exhales. I reckon hes tired too. Who wouldnt be when they have practically run up and down the aisle a couple of times now?

"So what do you want to do?" Finn ask. He sounds calmer now, like he fully understood Rachels fear. Rachel is relieved and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. It baffles me. I know they havent had it smooth sailing either, but between running away and now this? My brothers love for Rachel is more than what she deserves, and it baffles me how he can still love her.

From inside the tent, the music abruptly cuts off and I hear a muffled shriek with probable profanities riddled in it. I dont need to look inside to know that its Santana, and shes clearing the wedding crashes out with the help of her security team. It wont take long now for them to come looking for Rachel and Finn. I urge Rachel to hurry and tell him, in which Finn frowns at me. He looks nervous all of a sudden, and I know his fears.

"Shes not going to take off," I assure him, and though he isnt entirely convinced, his shoulders are tensed again.

"Rachel, whats going on?" Finn ask earnestly.

"Lets run away," she says. "Both of us. I want to marry you, Finn, more than Ive wanted anything in my entire life but this - this strangers wedding - its not how I want to do it. I want to marry you because I love you, not to officiate something Im already fully aware of."

In hindsight, this is such an irrational decision, and a selfish one too. A hundred people or so have made their way here to watch your bond in holy matrimony, not to mention the thousands of dollars invested in this ceremony plus the perfect amount romantic sunlight and Rachel wants to give that all away out of principle? Its insane; but then again so is love. It is irrational, it is selfish but when you have it, who cares?

Finn takes a long time to decide, so long that Santana has managed to clear the wedding crashes and soon shes going to start coming for Finn and Rachel. I do not want to be at the receiving end of whatever her reaction would be. When the opening of the tent ruffles, my breathing is hitched and for a moment I think theyve lost their chance, then Blaine pops out.

"What are you still doing out here?" urges Blaine. Even he knows theyre running out of time. "Santanas not going to allow a flop wedding in her reputation. Not unless she has something to say about it."

"Finn?" ask Rachel. She looks timid all of a sudden, and I get why. I wasnt sure that Finn would agree so easily to this, but I never thought he would take so long to decide. Rachel fears that he would say no, and that would force her into running away on her own - leaving Finn - which is something she does not want to do.

"Oh for fucks sake!" Blaine bellows as he steps in front of Finn. "Its not a goddamn difficult decision to make, is it? Because if it is you might as well say you dont want to marry her!" Finn is startled at Blaine, as if he was just slapped down into reality. "You love her, dont you?"

"Of course I do," says Finn and though I never doubt he did, it was still a relief to hear after those long seconds of sudden mystery.

"Then go with her! Go with her because if you let her slip through your fingers, youll regret it," says Blaine. Albeit his eyes are at Finn, I reckon his works are hidden innuendos for me.

"Youre right," says Finn, finally coming into his senses, or at least the senses that revolve around Rachel. There is a slight shuffle behind the tent, right behind the fabric and I know Santana has come looking. I grab both Finn and Rachel and we dash down the beach, tripping on the sand as we make our way back to the house. My only hope is that Blaine can stall Santana long enough for me to get them out of here.

When I see Logan standing by a car in the driveway of the house, I heave a sigh of relief. I hear Finn express his disbelief that we planned this but we have no time to address his disbelief. "Finally! I thought the plan flopped on its stomach!"

It still baffles me how Logan agreed to this plan. I had no one else to call back in New York. Everyone who means anything to me is here at the wedding. Logan was my only hope, and though Ive known him for a little over 24 hours, I knew I could trust him.

"Hell take you guys back to the city," I tell Finn and Rachel.

"Youre sure about this?" ask Rachel and I cant help but to think how that is the last question you should ask Finn, especially since he was on the fence just 2 minutes ago.

"I want you, and if this is what you want - then its what I want," he says.

"Thats really sweet, now jump in the freaking car before anyone comes looking!" I yell as I pull the car door open. Rachel wraps me in a tight hug and whispers a thank you in my ear.

"Tell them Im sorry?" says Finn and I nod dutifully.

"Youre doing the right thing here, Finn," I assure him. I dont know how much he would appreciate my thoughts, but I need to give him some form of comfort that this whole decision wont turn on itself. "Rachel could have chosen to run away from the pressure. It might not seem that way right now, I know you have your fears but trust me - she wants you."

Finn pulls me into a hug, longer than when Rachel held me, before he jumps into the car.

"Thank you," I say to Logan and he winks at me before he clambers into the drivers seat and drives of, filling me with a new profound sense of belief.