Arianna Smith's Arc

Chapter 21 of 23

The label's message still glowed on the shelf. A launch event. Friday. In front of everyone. Arianna read it twice, then set the phone face down. She had locked the gate against the cameras. She would not let the label build a stage on her wedding. "They'll turn it into a show," she said. "Balloons. Sponsors. A press line." Kylie sat up on the bed. "So what do we do?" Arianna already knew. She wanted to marry Kylie somewhere the label could never reach. "We don't tell them," Arianna said. "We don't put it on a calendar they can see. We just do it." She pulled up a map on her phone and searched for small chapels. She skipped the famous ones. She found a quiet stone chapel with a little steeple and a thick wooden door. No parking lot big enough for vans. No listing that mentioned celebrities. She called before she could lose her nerve. A soft voice answered. Arianna asked for a private service, no guest list, no announcement. The voice said Saturday was open. She hung up and looked at Kylie. "Saturday. Before Friday's event even happens." Kylie laughed, then covered her mouth. "They'll be furious." "Let them," Arianna said. "They can't un-marry us." They needed dresses, and they could not walk into a bridal shop without a photo leaking. Arianna found a seamstress who delivered. The next morning two garment bags arrived at the gate. Kylie unzipped hers first. A red gown slid out, gold swirling across the chest, thin straps, a daring cut. It was bold and bright, exactly her. "This is so me it hurts," Kylie said, holding it to her body. Arianna unzipped the second bag. Soft green lace, long sleeves, a full skirt. Quiet where Kylie's was loud. "Matcha," Kylie said, grinning. "Your favorite drink." Arianna held the green gown against herself and finally felt like a bride, not a fan. Saturday came fast. They drove themselves. No crew followed. Inside the chapel, light fell through colored glass onto bare stone. A small green cake waited on a side table, trimmed with pale flowers. Only two witnesses stood with them, hired that morning and sworn to silence. Arianna's hands shook, so she pressed them flat against her skirt. Kylie took them anyway. They spoke their own words. No cue cards. No cameras. When they kissed, the only sound was the door creaking on its hinge. They signed the paper. It was done. Married, with the label still planning a Friday that had already lost. Outside, Arianna checked her phone. One new message from the label, sent an hour ago. "Confirm your arrival time for Friday." She almost laughed. Then she saw the message below it. A gossip account had posted a blurry photo of two garment bags at a gated house. The caption asked one question: "Secret wedding?" Arianna stared. The gate had kept the cameras out. It had not kept the question in.