So… the last time I updated this was in March… I kinda forgot about it… Oh my God guys I'm so sorry! I'm a horrible person! To make it up to you I'm posting another holiday themed one on Christmas, I swear! Anyway, please don't kill me. Here's The Wedding Singer part 2.

Warning: foul and derogatory language

If anyone notices my foul mood, they don't comment. My mom doesn't ask what's wrong when I stomp my way down the stairs and out the door in the morning. My friends don't pester me to find out why I go through the first dress rehearsal robotically and stone-faced. Marlee doesn't try to ask me why I'm not talking to her. Carter doesn't raise a finger when I refuse to come to the hall to practice my music, because he knows that he will be there. Everyone knows that he'll be there. It's written all over the news and the internet: Maxon Schreave is to be the photographer at a lowly citizen's wedding.

When I was younger, my mom would always tell me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all. I'm sure that every other mother told their kids exactly that, the only difference being that I didn't listen. Ever. So it's not really a surprise to anyone when I snap out of my stoic phase after a week and start trash talking the mayor's son every chance I get.

I rant about him to my mom, my dad, my siblings, my friends, and, this one really weird time, a random person on the street.

"You know America," Celeste told me one day as we waited in line for our Starbucks, "if you talk about Maxon so much, it probably means you like him."

"Like him?" I asked. "Like him? How can you say that? He's a jerk. He's an ass. He's a jerk with a pompous ass! In fact, his ass is so pompous that he shoves his head up there and there's EXTRA ROOM FOR HIS FUCKING DICK!"

We were kicked out of the Starbucks.

Needless to say, I become increasingly obsessed with the mayor's son. Well, not so much obsessed with him himself more so that I become obsessed with my hatred for him. He ruined my gig. He ruined my reputation. He ruined my life, and if anyone thinks that I can just forget about that, then they're batshit crazy.

No one understands what happened. They weren't there. They didn't feel the humiliation that I felt or see the smirk on his face as he carried my out of the hall or hear the jeering insults and laughter being thrown my way. And they certainly weren't there when he gave me a little "talking to" before dismissing me and going back inside, where he proceeded to insult me as if he hadn't just tried to make me feel better just moments before. He's so confusing, like a puzzle that I can't solve. And I hate him for it.

The only thing that had kept me going before was the knowledge that I'd never have to see him again. But now I do, and I can feel all those buried emotions from that night just a few months ago coming to the surface. I'm angry at him for treating me the way he did. I'm angry at myself for not being better, I'm angry at Marlee and Carter for not telling me tat he was gong to be at their wedding and I'm… scared. I'm scared that he's going to laugh at me again and that I'm going to be humiliated and be made fun. I don't want a repeat of his wedding. I don't want to feel the hurt I felt when he started to call me a bitch and untalented. I just don't want to feel myself be degraded anymore than I already have been. Is that too much to ask?

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It's the day before the wedding, and I have to attend the final rehearsal. He will be there, of course, taking practice pictures and finding "the perfect angles" or something of equal idiocy. My only hope is to avoid him the entire day and then high-tail it out of there as fast as I can. I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to be able to avoid him tomorrow, but I'll just take it one step at a time.

As I sit at the kitchen table waiting for Celeste to come pick me up, my mother comes to sit next to me.

"Are you going to be okay, America?" she asks.

"Yeah mom, I'll be fine," I say dismissively as I try, and fail, to put my hair up into a sock bun.

"Are you sure," she keeps on pestering., "because you seem agitated."

"Of course I'm going to be agitated mom. It bothers me. But just because I'm less than pleased with him being there doesn't mean I'm not okay."

There's the sound of a car horn blaring outside, and I hurriedly get up from the table and run out the door, not wanting to deal with my mother any longer.

"What's wrong with you?" Celeste asks as I yank open the car door and, rather ungracefully, jump in.

"What do you mean?" I ask, buckling my seatbelt and whipping my flaming hair out of my face

"You were running. In heels. And last time I checked you can barely run up your stairs without dying. So are you on like, steroids or something?"

I glare at her from the corner of my eyes since I'm focused on the mirror in front of me. "I was trying to get away from my mom. She kept pestering me to see if I was okay."

"Are you?" She turns to face me as we stop at a red light.

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "Really? You too? I'm fine Celeste. Yes, him being there bothers me. And yes, I'd rather be in Hell than in a room with him but I'm okay. I'll deal with it."

"Okay," she says as the light turns green. "But if he does anything to you call me over and, mayor's son or not, I'll bash his head in. Or make his pompous ass bigger, if you know what I mean."

"See?" I laugh. "I'll be fine."

{}{}{}

"Oh America, thank God you're here!"

As soon as I step foot into the gardens where the wedding is taking place, I'm attacked by a mass of blond hair. "I thought you weren't gonna come at all and that I'd have to find another bridesmaid and another wedding singer but you're irreplaceable and I was just so worried I-"

"Calm down Marlee. I'm here. I'm sorry I worried you, but I had to take a bit of time to process everything. But I would have never bailed on you, you know that, right?"

"I do now," she says. "Come, I want to show you the venue."

She leads me to a giant field of flowers, a spectrum of colours ranging from red to purple to blue to pink. White chairs have been placed in rows at its center, in front of a giant archway covered in red roses. A paved walkway sprinkled with flower petals leads the way from a glass building down at the other end of the field to the arch, fountains and trees adorning its perimeter.

"Oh Marlee, it's beautiful!" I exclaim, throwing my arms around her.

"I know!" She claps her hands together. "I could hardly believe it when I saw it. Carter and I would have never been able to afford all of this; it was Maxon who paid for it all."

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh did he now? Well, I suppose that was nice of him."

"It was indeed. Quite generous on his part. But then again, he is an amazing person, would you not agree?" A voice sounds from behind Marlee and I, and I tense up as it's alluring undertone triggers a memory in my mind. I turn around slowly to find myself staring at chocolate brown eyes and blond hair.

Oh Hell no.

"Maxon!" Marlee exclaims. "You're early!"

"Yes I am, but I'd rather be early than late. Besides, I'd like to take a few shots before everyone arrives." He pats the camera hanging around is neck. "I want a variety of pictures for you to choose from."

"Oh, that's so sweet. Thank you." Marlee looks at me then, and panic crossed her face. "Um, Maxon, this is my friend-"

"America," I cut her off, reaching out to shake the mayor's son's hand. "America Singer."

"America Singer," he repeats as he returns my handshake. "I do feel as if we've met before. You seem awfully familiar."

"That depends. Do you usually remember the faces of the people whose lives you ruin?"

He looks shocked. "Excuse me?"

"Think back to your wedding, idiot!"

Maxon's face stays confused for a moment before realization sparks in his eyes and he goes pale. "Oh. That America Singer."

"Yes, that America Singer," I mimic him. "And I'll have you know that I am also the wedding singer for this wedding. So if you try anything even remotely similar to the crap you pulled at your wedding, mayor's son or not I will kill you slowly and painfully. Understood?"

He just stares at me, frozen.

"Typical," I scoff as I whirl around and walk away.

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The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. We rehearse twice, have lunch, and then I go inside the hall to practice some of the songs that I'm going to play tomorrow, all without seeing Maxon again. He's been around, obviously, but thankfully we haven't crossed paths since this morning. When I leave at around three in the afternoon, I have a smile on my face. I stood up to Maxon Schreave, and he was too shocked to answer me back. I won. Well, unless he decides to sue me and have me arrested, then he'd win, but I'm not going to think about that!

"So, I heard that you really went off on Mr. Schreave this morning," Celeste says as she starts up the car.

"That I did," I say, the giant smile on my face.

"How did it feel?"

"Amazing!"

"Well then," Celeste cranks up the music and Beyoncé's "Run The World" fills up the car. "You have my utmost and eternal respect, Miss Singer."

I laugh, "Of course you do. Now, to prove it, please be the one to tell my mother what happened.

{}{}{}

Celeste must not respect me as much as she says she does, because she did not, in fact, come in to tell my mother what happened. Not that I was going to tell her anyway, but still.

"America?" my mom calls when I walk in.

"Yeah?"

"Oh good, you're home," she says, drying her hands on a dish towel. "How was it?"

"It was really good actually," I reach into the fridge to get a can of coke. "I didn't even see him once."

"That's good," she says turning back to the stove.

"What, you didn't think I'd be able to handle myself?" I question.

Before she has the chance to answer, my dad comes up from the den with May and Gerad.

"Ames!" May comes running into me at full force, Gerad right behind her.

"Hey guys," I smile as I hug them both. "How was your day?"

"It was amazing!" my brother exclaims. Dad taught us how to paint! I painted a lady bug and it looks really, really good!"

"That's great buddy!" I say. "And what about you, May?"

"I painted a girl playing piano. She kinda looks like you, actually."

"Well, I'd love to see them. How about you show me after supper, okay? I'm just going to go prepare what I need for tomorrow." Nodding frantically, they run back downstairs.

"Hi Daddy," I say, hugging him tightly.

"Hey Kitten," he hugs back. "Were you okay today?"

"I was fine," I assure him. "We never even talked."

"I'm happy for you Kitten. You're strong-willed and brave. Never loose that."

I laugh. "Dad, all I did was avoid one guy. That's not a test of my bravery." I pull away from his arms and start making my way upstairs. "Now I really need to go prepare my things. Something tells me that I'm going to be downstairs for a while after dinner."

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That night, I can't sleep. I toss and turn and when I am able to sleep, it only lasts a few minutes before I'm jolted awake by my sub-consciousness. Finally, at around 5:00, I give up on sleep completely and I hop in the shower to get an early start to the day. I take the time to dry my hair and moisturise my skin before finishing at 6:30, a half hour before I'm supposed to. I decide to just sit around on my phone, waiting for the limo that will take me to the hall to get ready with my friends. The doorbell rings at exactly 6:59, and I scribble a quick note to my parents before heading out the door.

After 45 minutes of driving I finally arrive in front of the glass building, and the chauffeur helps me carry my dress upstairs to the dressing room. I'm the second to last one there, Elise having been held up, and I'm quickly whisked into a chair by three girls who start on my hair and face and nails.

"I'm so excited!" Natalie exclaims as she's starting to get made over. "This is so exciting!"

"Geez, get any more excited and they'll be freaking unicorns coming out of your ass," Celeste remarks as her nails get painted.

"Don't be such a downer, Celeste," Elise says, walking through the doorway. "Today is very exciting, and just because you're devoid of emotion doesn't mean that we have to be."

"Shut up," comes the brunette's remark, and we all giggle and fall into a comfortable silence.

After about three hours all of our hair and make up is done, and we're all being fit into our yellow dresses. Marlee went into another room to get changed, and we all wait in anticipation to see the big reveal. After what seems like forever, the door to her room opens and Marlee comes out in her lace dress.

"Oh my God you look amazing!" Kriss shrieks as she runs to go hug the bride. We all take our turns to hug her and tell her how pretty she is, and soon we're all close to tears.

"Ladies," a voice says, and we turn around to see Maxon standing in the doorway with his camera. "Forgive the intrusion, but I need to take a few pictures before the ceremony." He smiles warmly at us. "You all look lovely." The girls all mumble their "thank you's" as they giggle and proceed to the main room where the pictures will be taken.

Maxon fiddles with the curtains for a while and then places us in various positions, snapping a few pictures for each.

"Smile, America dear," he says at one point. I narrow my eyes.

"I am not your dear." Everybody laughs.

After about a half hour the pictures are done and Maxon leaves, leaving a gaggle of giggling, blushing girls. Save for me, of course. I just glare at his retreating back.

"Lighten up, America," Kriss nudges me. "We're heading down; the ceremony is about to start. We need you to smile."

I do, and we all make our way down the staircase to the doors, ready to do this once and for all.

{}{}{}

The ceremony was beautiful; and everybody was crying. Maxon, of course, was snapping pictures the entire time. I think he got one of me during a particularly violent sob. I need to go see him about that at the reception, I decide. As the ceremony finishes, we all make our way to the hall, wiping the mascara tracks from our cheeks and laughing about the overall cuteness.

Some techno music is already playing as we walk in, and we all take our seats as we wait for the bride and groom to make their grand entrance. About a minute before they do, I'm tapped on the back and told to go sit on the stage to prepare myself for the first song. I do, and before long Marlee and Carter are on the dance floor and I'm singing an acoustic version of a classic song. It's beautiful and amazing and completely and utterly ruined when Maxon comes up to me right after.

"You were great," he said, fiddling with his camera strap.

"Thanks. Not that you would know anything about me talent, would you?" I snap.

"Look, America-" he starts.

"No. I don't want to hear it."

"Please. Just hear me out."

"I have to perform again in a few minutes."

"It won't take long, I promise. I'm begging you. Let me tell you my side of the story."

I look at him with disgust, but I still hop down from my stool and follow him out the doors. "You have five minutes," I say when we're safely outside.

"I didn't want to say the things I said" he starts. I roll my eyes. "No, really America! I didn't want to. I had to."

"You had to," I say condescendingly. "That makes so much more sense. Thanks for clearing that up."

"Goddamnit America LISTEN TO ME!" he roars. It effectively shuts me up.

"I had to. I know it seems like I have a perfect family, but I don't. My father's a bully. He needs things done his way, and only his way, wherever and whenever he wants them to. He rules with an iron fist. With fear. And he wants me to follow in his footsteps. So he makes me act rude and ungrateful and superior all the time.

"I didn't want to make you sing a harder song that night. It was my father who wanted me to put you in your place. And I didn't want to say all those horrible things about you, but I had to make it seem like I was disgusted by you so that my father wouldn't think that I was going soft."

He looks at me pleadingly. "If I could take it back, I would. You didn't deserve that America. I'm sorry."

I just stand there, my mouth hanging open slightly. When I'm finally able to think coherent thoughts, I'm still only able to get out a few sentences.

"So, you're a horrible person because your father makes you act like a horrible person?"

He nods.

"But-I-you-" I splutter. "What about your mother? Doesn't she have a say in any of it? What about Daphne, your wife? They can't just sit back and watch it happen?"

Maxon laughs a humorless laugh. "That's complicated. Daphne, well, she doesn't really care what goes on so long as she has her money and fame. I don't love her," he states, seeing my taken aback expression. "And she doesn't love me either."

"Oh," I say.

"And my mother… God. It's not that she's a bad mom. She's amazing and kind and thoughtful. It's just that when she married my father she had no where else to go, and she loved him but also feared him. She still does love him, but he's terrifying and he threatens to hurt me if she doesn't do as she's told. Same with me. So, really, we have no choice."

I have tears in my eyes as I say, "Oh God, I didn't know. I'm… so sorry."

He just nods in understanding. "I'm glad that got cleared up."

Suddenly a thought dawned on me. "Why are you telling me this? Aren't you afraid that I'll go tell the media or something?"

"Will you?" he asks.

"No, but-"

"There you go." He stalls for a minute. "I want to get to know you America. I want to start over and make what I did better."

"And how are you going to do that?" I ask.

"Well, my mother's holding a charity event at a hall across town next week. She really like your singing, and I'm sure she'd be more than happy to let you play if I say you offered."

"Will your father be there?"

"Not for long."

I think for a moment, and then a smile starts to slowly creep its way onto my face. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats, his face lighting up.

I laugh. "Okay."

"Well in that case, I really do think we should start over." He holds out his hand. "I don't believe we've met before. My name is Maxon Schreave. And, you are?"

"America Singer," I say as I mockingly curtsy. He holds out his arm to me.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

We get back inside and I go back to the piano and start to play "What a Wonderful World." While I perform my eyes meet Maxon's, and then I'm blinded by a white flash. His camera. His pictures. Right, the pictures.

I need to talk to him about that.

That wasn't my best writing, but I got all the feels while writing it! If you have any ideas about a Christmas prompt you want me to do, put it in the reviews or PM me and I'l try to make it work. I will keep my word this time, I promise. It'll be a Christmas miracle.

Oh, and I'd like to thank you all for 68 reviews and over 10.8k views. You guys are honestly amazing, and your comments make my day.

Until next time,

HorseGalFangirl9