đđđđđ« đđĄđ đ đ„đąđđđđ« đđđđđŹ // PARA
đđđ: Wren Schuester & @beckbeckettâ
đđđđ: Friday, November 7th. Night.
đđđđđ: Dan + Niaâs Reception.
Being a Schuester meant Wren was practically front and center for most of the night. Not fully, because it was her brotherâs wedding but she was a goddamn bridesmaid in some tight fitting grey dress that she definitely did not want to be in and she felt like her peers and family had been staring at her for the entire night. It was humiliating. Degrading, even. When she thought she was finally free of the chains that were societal marriage norms, she was reeled back in with speeches, toasts, and mingling with family. She needed to escape and thatâs exactly what she did. She ran off to the bathroom where she caught Darcy trying to slip laxatives into the drinks. Wren couldnât even have a moment to breathe in a fucking bathroom. For a hot second, she debated just jumping out of a window and running home in a classic runaway bride way, but bridesmaid edition but she knew if she left, her parents and siblings would be mad at her and whatever. She could at least give them a stress-free night for once.Â
She felt like an actual freak. Dressed in a dress she didnât like nor did she want to wear, hair perfectly curled (courtesy of Nia knowing her way around a curling wand), and had way too much makeup on for her liking. She looked like a literal clown. She hung out in the reception hall for a while, but it didnât take long for Wren to start feeling suffocated after she left the bathroom. Spotting Beck across the room she quickly went over, not paying attention to whoever he was talking to and grabbed a hold of his elbow. âHey, sorry gotta steal him away for a bit,â she said, dragging him to a more secluded area of the reception hall. âI need to smoke and youâre coming with me.â she said, a pleading look on her face. God, she was pathetic. âPlease.âÂ
Playing with the band had always been Beckâs burden to bear, but for the first time he found himself thankful that he had agreed to one of Dan Schuesterâs crazy little ideas. It had saved him the trouble of asking Wren any actual permission to tag along - any awkward conversation about being her not-date - besides, Nia was someone with a connected family, and being able to mingle? Scratch that - being able to brag about coordinating the glee club band that had been entertaining everyone the whole night? Talk about priceless opportunities for just a little Lima Loser.Â
Beck had been busy flipping between a cello and a bass for most of the night, but that hadnât kept him from trying to spy Wren from across the room throughout the reception. It was almost like his own personal game of Whereâs Waldo as he tried to find her moving from hiding spot to hiding spot; tried to read her expression from a distance. He had caught her eye a couple times - or at least he had thought, as he had smiled to himself on the stage - but it wasnât too long before he had lost her to the crowd completely.
The band had been let go for a break before too long, and it was a discreet glass of champagne, and a conversation with a couple of Tibideauxâs later when Wren finally reappeared. Tugging along at his elbow as she practically dragged him across the room; Beck could only find himself laughing as he excused the both of them.Â
The pleading look on Wrenâs face was only like icing on the cake as Beck smirked down at his best friend, wholly trying to ignore lightening that seemed to be threading itâs way through his veins. âSmoking at your brotherâs wedding? You are some kind of daredevil, Schuester.â It was a beat before Beck tugging Wren along the reception hall, though his hand was rest against her waist instead. A soft, âCome on, demon. I know a place.â Leaving his lips - a little too close to her ear - as Beck led them toward the back parking lot where the band had loaded in.Â
Beck waited until the two of them had filed far away enough from the music - until they were tucked away in the low light of the parking lot - before he slipped his lighter out of his pocket and handed it over to the redhead. A waggle of his eyebrow punctuating every move. âYou know - I wonât ask if youâre having fun,â Beck grinned, reaching toward her to flounce the skirt on her dress just a little. âBut, uh... If I werenât so afraid of you punching me in the face, I might say that you look pretty fuckinâ cool tonight, you know? Almost makes me wish I had dressed up a little more - but as we both know, itâs basically a fuckinâ miracle I own a tie anyway.âÂ
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