|Haven't You People Ever Heard of Closing
Author: Phyti PM
Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamned door? Inspired by "I Write Sins, Not Tragedies" by Panic! at the Disco. people are patterns, ever repeating.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Tragedy - Words: 992 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 02-17-06 - id: 2114781
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
this is the first in a group of stories inspired by the songs of Panic! at the Disco.
Haven't You People Ever Heard of Closing a Goddamned Door?
Daniel was pacing again. The knot in his stomach grew tighter and tighter as every moment passed. He didn't want this to be a mistake, but every cell in his body was screaming that something was wrong.
He checked his watch. They were supposed to start in ten minutes. Everybody was assembled in the clearing up ahead. They were all waiting for him.
She was waiting for him.
They had met two years prior, at a work party held at their boss' house. She had brought her boyfriend of seven years, and he had brought a random date dumped on him by his "best" friend. It didn't take long for the Date to lose interest in his gloomy behaviour and sardonic responses to any conversation attempt she made. She eventually walked away and started talking with the Xerox guy.
Taking his chance, he left the main entertainment area and began to explore the house with a bottle of Alexander Keith's and an expression that could turn even the happiest of moments into the most depressing.
He moved to the upstairs and stopped in front of the first door he came to. She was standing there, looking into the room with a stony expression that could put his to shame. He peered into the room and saw two bodies writhing on a sofa, quite naked and quite oblivious to the two people staring at them. He didn't say anything, but noticed after a moment that the male body involved in the writhing was the same male body that had shown up on the arm of his fellow peeping tom.
He placed a hand on her elbow and she turned to him, surprised; as if she hadn't noticed him take his place next to her. She turned on her heel and strode down the hallway, away from the adulterers, who were still squirming on the sofa, and making noises usually only heard in late-night free porn.
He sprinted to catch up with her, and stopped when she abruptly halted in front of another room, this one apparently empty. She turned back to him, took his elbow, and led him into the room. He saw a four poster bed, a loveseat, a coffee table, a chez lounge, a dresser with a large mirror above it, a sidechair next to the bed, and a large trunk-seat at the foot of the bed.
She pulled him close to her and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Within minutes, the scene was similar to that of the one they had been watching in the other room. Only in this room, the participants noticed their peeping tom. Her boyfriend of seven years watched with an unreadable expression as they continued to shimmy and wriggle around beneath the covers.
Their relationship ended in those two rooms, but his and hers began in that one.
He checked his watch again: five minutes to takeoff. He really had to get up there. To that clearing. To those people, those faces. To that justice of the peace, with her little snub nose and chipmunk cheeks and curly orange hair.
He sighed and sprinted down the path to the clearing.
As he walked through the people milling about, he heard snippets of conversations.
"What a unique place for a wedding."
"Lovely weather, thank God."
"Did you get a look at the maid of honour? She's stacked, man!"
"It really is a beautiful set up. Too bad about the bride."
Rehearsal dinner. The rehearsal itself had gone of without a hitch. He was relaxed and was trying to find the bathroom in the reception hall they'd rented for the two days. As he walked down one hallway or another, he heard voices and stopped.
"It's going to be a beautiful wedding."
"Yes, definately. Too bad the poor groom's bride is a whore."
"What are you talking about?"
"Didn't you hear? The whole wedding party knows, except for the groom, of course."
"She's fucking - "
He decided he didn't have to use the washroom all that bad anyway, and turned around. He walked back to the dining tables and sat down next to his bride-to-be.
He took his place at the far end of the clearing, by the justice of the peace and his best man. The people gathered to witness the event all moved to form two bunches, separated by a walkway-wide space down the center of the clearing.
The musicians began to play. Cello and flute began to fill the air, and a few birds joined in overhead. As they played, everyone turned their attention to the direction the bridesmaids were coming from. As they took their places, attention was turned back to the entrance of the clearing.
The music continued to play, but no bride appeared.
Finally the musicians stopped, and everyone turned to him. He turned to his best man with an expression of confusion.
His best man took off down the aisle, and disappeared into the trees. Everyone waited.
His best man returned ten minutes later with an unreadable expression on his face. He grabbed His elbow and led him into the trees. He followed his best man through the light woods, to the parking lot of the park.
There, in the parking lot, was a vehicle, back left-side door wide open. Inside the vehicle were a bride and an usher, squirming and wriggling and making noises usually only heard in late-night free porn.
He strode toward the vehicle, grabbed hold of the door handle, and spoke curtly.
"Haven't you people ever heard of closing a Goddamned door?"
He slammed the door shut and walked towards his own vehicle.