Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Getting married was quite possibly the easiest thing that Will had ever done.
Not that he was married yet, but with an hour to go before he would head to the altar, he was feeling pretty good about his wedding day.
Call time had been four-thirty in the morning, but when he arrived, he’d been informed that since his hair and makeup would take about twenty minutes, he could come back at ten-thirty.
Everyone else, including Riley, was then promptly whisked away for an undisclosed amount of time, leaving him to enjoy a relaxing morning.
After catching a few hours of sleep in the green room, he grazed the craft services table before deciding to take himself out for a heartier breakfast at a café down the street.
Scrambled eggs, a stack of chocolate chip pancakes, three slices of extra crispy bacon, and two cups of coffee later, he still had several hours to kill.
So, he went in search of the perfect bottle of champagne to pop with Naomi during their first few moments alone as husband and wife, which he found at a specialty liquor store a few blocks down from the studio.
By the time he arrived back at the studio a little before ten, he was feeling rested and relaxed.
“You can’t go through with this wedding, Will.” Riley practically pounced on Will like a feral cat as he entered their green room.
As quickly as Will’s stomach plummeted to the center of the earth, it returned comfortably back into his body when he saw the nature of the wedding-stopping emergency. “Riley, your hair …”
“It is unconscionable. An absolute violation of human rights.”
This morning, Riley had walked into the studio sporting bleached silver hair with a long stripe down the middle dyed as yellow as a highlighter.
Now, it was brown. All brown. Not brown mixed with another, less natural, color.
Or even a natural color. It was regular, plain, and completely brown.
And it had been trimmed and styled into a side part that made them look like they belonged in a 1950’s commercial for dish soap.
“What happened?” was all Will could think to ask.
“What happened? I think you can see what happened. They told me there had been a last-minute decision to ruin my life, and I was contractually obligated to comply.”
Will could imagine that the words “family friendly” came up at some point in the last twenty-four hours.
Riley drifted over to the mirror like a wayward ghost. “A travesty,” they moaned.
While Will had never understood Riley’s dedication to a fiber that grew out of their head, he had always done his best to show his support regardless. “I’m sorry.”
Riley looked at Will and then back at the mirror, running a hand over their heavily gelled hair. “Abby says it’s my most radical look yet. In some ways, she has a point.”
Will came close enough to put a hand on their shoulder. “Tomorrow, you can change it to any color you want.”
“Tomorrow I won’t be on television in front of the whole world.” Riley pivoted away from the mirror.
“To be fair, most people will be looking at—”
“Maybe this is for the best. I would have outshone you at your own wedding. Now I’ll fade into the background for perhaps the first time in my life.
I can’t think of a greater gift I could offer you.
But what a price I’ve had to pay.” Riley collapsed on the sofa like a maiden in need of smelling salts.
“It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done before …” Riley’s muffled recitation of Canton’s famous speech before his execution in A Tale of Two Cities came from somewhere under their arms.
Will stayed rooted to the floor, trying to decide what, if anything, he should do. This side of Riley was slightly outside his area of expertise.
The door opened and Freya walked in. She took in the scene and then turned to Will, her face making it unnecessary to voice her question as to what was going on.
“We’re having a bit of a situation.” He gestured to Riley. “Their hair. I’m not really sure what to …” He trailed off.
Thankfully, she didn’t need more explanation because she nodded and made an irritated growl.
“I’d heard some rumblings that they wanted to tone things down.
I told them not to touch a hair on Riley’s head.
Sometimes when I’m in this building, I wonder if I’m actually dead and don’t know it because it seems like no one can hear me.
” She walked over to Riley. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
Will had never heard Freya call anyone ‘sweetie.’ But Riley certainly had a way of capturing even the hardest of hearts. Their quixotic, playful, and kind spirit made it difficult not to get drawn in.
Riley lifted their head. “My God, Freya. Your makeup. The way that tuxedo traces your curves. People are going to go blind looking at their screens when they see you and your rapturous beauty.”
The effusive compliments probably helped too.
Freya’s downward expression of concern lifted into a smile, and she wagged a finger at them. “You are terrible for my ego, Riley.”
“I love a woman in a tuxedo. I guess it should come as no shock that you pull it off better than any woman I’ve ever seen. Although, let me fix that pocket square.” Riley sat up straight and snatched the light green cloth from Freya’s pocket and began folding it as if it were origami.
“I’m sorry about your hair,” Freya said.
Riley kept their eyes on the pocket square as they let out a sigh. “My whole life, people have been trying to make me into something I’m not. But it’s never worked.” They handed the pocket square back to Freya. “I think your people upstairs will find I can still sparkle, even with brown hair.”
“You are the sparkliest person I’ve ever met. And that’s saying a lot.”
Coming from Freya, that was indeed saying a lot.
Will couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.
In the few spare moments he had had over the last month, he’d sacrificed some of it to worrying about how Freya and Riley would mesh as his wedding party.
But clearly, he had nothing to worry about.
Freya tucked the pocket square back into her pocket. “If we had more time, I would say we should go raise some hell, but I was sent here to tell you all that it’s time.”
Will felt a tremor in his core, a mixture of anticipation and nerves.
During their dress rehearsal yesterday afternoon, they’d been told the station was expecting thirty million viewers to tune in.
Trying to comprehend that many people had proven to be like trying to comprehend the sound of one hand clapping. It was impossible and anxiety-inducing.
“You alright there?” Freya’s voice brought him back from his thoughts of thirty million people.
“So many people,” he said, his mouth feeling a little dry.
“Be grateful you don’t have to walk down the aisle in heels and a giant dress like your bride does. You only have to stand there and say, ‘I do.’”
“You make a good point. I do get off pretty easy.” He pointed at Riley, whose mouth was opening. “I heard it. We’re keeping things PG today.”
Riley looked dejected as they stood up, brushing the wrinkles from their tuxedo. “First my hair and now this. What’s left for me?”
Will put an arm around Riley and led them towards the green room door. “The joy of watching your good friend marry the woman of his dreams?”
Riley exhaled loudly. “I suppose that’s nice and all.”
Will opened the door to find Max waiting for them, headset and clipboard at the ready. “Follow me,” he said.
“Good to see you too, Max.”
Max gave a tight smile and pressed a button on his headset. “Walking over now.”
Freya’s heels echoed on the tiles as they snaked through the hallways.
“Have you ever been on this floor?” Will asked her.
Rather than try to find a chapel that would hold not only guests but all the camera equipment, NGN had decided it made more sense to use a chapel that was already set up for that.
Namely, the studio chapel on the thirty-first floor, which had seen television couples from soap operas, sitcoms, and even a few dramas tie the knot.
“Before you started, the station was doing some promo for a new show and they had me do an interview with one of the actors up here. I remember thinking it was more of a maze than NGN, and I see nothing has changed.”
“Glad it’s not just me.”
Eventually, Max stopped in front of a door and pulled it open. “Through here, please.”
Inside was another long hallway that led to a door at the other end.
Only, unlike all the other hallways, this one was lined with cameras and co-workers.
At the head of the parade was Annalisa, who greeted him with a smile.
“Ready?” she asked, then nudged her head towards the camera behind her to indicate the answer should be directed there.
“I’ve never been more ready for anything.”
“Actually, not quite. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Freya patted the top of her head.
“Oh!” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sage green kippah.
Naomi had given it to him right before they had said their goodbyes yesterday.
The small skullcap, traditionally worn by men during Jewish weddings, had been handmade for him and embroidered with their initials and the word beshert. “Thank you.”
“Only doing my job,” she said.