Hot Southern Mess (Hide Your Crazy) (2 page)

Being able to play an acoustic set for an
hour is one of the most fulfilling rewards I had been blessed with. The opportunity to have my own set was validation that all the hard work and dedication I was putting into this passion was finally paying off. Week after week, I sat on that stool up there and poured out my heart into my music, letting it wash away the grime of day to day life. Yep, even if I had to wear a bridesmaid dress that was one of the most hideous things I had ever seen in this entire world, it didn’t matter. I was playing music, and that truly was all I cared about in the end.

Chapter 2
: Eternal love……………..or was it flame? F*#K!

The day started out just fine, until my mother burst into my apartment at a quarter to eight, screaming like a banshee about how disappointed she was in me for not being ready. I vaguely remember telling her to ‘eat shit and die,’ considering the wedding wasn’t until later that afternoon, and all I had to do was shower and shave. I bet if she knew a woman that would fit into my bridesmaid dress; she would have killed me on the spot. However, in the end, I got an iPhone to the face, and a lecture on how I was being so irresponsible. Way to start the fucking day. Crazy mother and an ugly ass dress, fan-fricken-tastic!

So there I sat, in a classy salon, looking like a drunken rat. You know the type; wet hair and looked like I had been swimming in a bottle of vodka? Got the picture yet? Well, that’s me.

“Francis, I just
don’t know what you can do for her. I mean, look at that horrible mess she has on the top of her head. Just dreadful.” Mother grabbed a piece of my hair between her fingers then quickly dropped it, like it was poisonous to the touch.

“Did you know I can hear and speak for myself? I
know it’s kind of a shocking thing.” I rolled my eyes and slouched down in the chair; today was never going to end. Nothing needed to be ‘done’ to me, just dry my damn hair and send me on my way. I was one of nine bridesmaids, and the very last one in the long line of Barbie stand up clones. Being in the wedding is more like a pity fuck, something you did because you felt bad, but still get some sort of satisfaction out of it. My sister was going to be able to get a good laugh out of my misery today, hence labeling myself as a ‘pity fuck’.

“I don’t think we are going to have time to color correct this mess, but I might be able to hide some of the more damaged pieces
.” Francis the wonder boy stood directly behind me in the chair and crossed his arms in exasperation. There was nothing to color correct. I liked my purple and black hair, at least you could tell the difference between me and all the rest of the woman in this town. 

“If you ladies
are going to bitch anymore I could just finish this myself.” I glared at the both of them. Francis narrowed his eyes and smeared some clear junk all over my hair. Apparently, being gentle was not part of his forte, as his fingers raked over my scalp and tore through the tangled wet mess.

“No reason to get snippy
, Molly Anne. We are just trying to figure out how to make you blend in with the rest of the group.”

Mother
took the seat next to me, as a younger girl draped a cape around her pant suit and started to work her magic. I believe the world would need to get hit by a flaming asteroid in order to melt this crazy bitch’s heart. It was getting pretty pathetic that the comments and jabs she throws at me no longer register on my radar. I am Molly the mess, the screw up, the loner, loser, and overall failure for a daughter. Whatever.

“Well at least I won’t be able to distract from my sister
’s pure virginal beauty then.”

I
can’t help but let out a snort; there is no way in hell my sister was ‘virginal’. I caught her many of times sneaking back into the house, with very little clothing on while growing up. She has probably plowed through more guys than the number of Zamboni trips during NHL hockey playoffs. Not like I have ever watched hockey, but I’m guessing that it’s a lot.

It only took them a whopping three hours to fuss over my ‘ugliness’. Now, I know I’m not ugly, but in their perfect world I am the ugly swan, and not the hot looking one; like in the movie
Black Swan
. Mother let out a large gasp as I walked into the waiting room.

“
It’s not like I was ugly before, fuck,” I mumble under my breath while standing there awkwardly getting silently judged.

“Fra
ncis, you can’t even tell she had that horrible color in her hair! You, young man, are a miracle worker.”

My hair had
been pinned back and all the purple was tucked underneath the dark black color. My side swept bangs have been hair sprayed to the point that if I come into any contact with a flame, I might burst into combustion. Who would have known that with all the fussing for the last couple hours, I have turned into a real girl? Now all they need to do is tie some puppet strings on my limbs and they have their very own version of the perfect daughter. Wait, scratch that. I forgot that my sister already claimed that title, at least I could apply for the runner up label. Second place is always the first loser, right?

Mother swarmed
around me, nodding her head in approval.

“Oh Stepmother
, can I go to the ball, too? Pretty please, I promise all my chores are done.”

Mother
shot me a glare out of the corner of her evil eyes, and went back to talking with Francis. Now if I could just survive the afternoon, the open bar at the reception could save my soul. Nothing like drowning the night in a tall glass of vodka to keep yourself sane. Who knew, maybe I would find my soul mate tonight. A tall southern gentleman, that would twirl me around the dance floor and whisper sweet nothings into my ear. He can woo me with the numbers in his bank account, and flaunt his designer label tux. And, if I’m lucky, maybe he played a prominent role at the country club and could make friends with my snobby sister, and cast a spell over my wicked mother. Yes, that was exactly what I wanted, and then maybe I could stab the cake cutter into my brain. Perfect ending for the perfect wedding. Oh happy day!

I could
barely breathe with all the hairspray in the room, as one of the many clones did another round of crap to her already shellacked into place, perfect looking up do. Sitting in the corner, I watched as the madness continued to unfold in front of me. My sister was a total Bridezilla; barking orders, and screaming at anyone who came near her. It almost made me feel bad for all her little minions today. Why anyone would want to plan weddings for a living and deal with people like her is a damn mystery to me. There was still a half hour to go before pictures, and I’d already silently killed her off in my head at least twenty times now.

“Mother, where in the world are my diamonds? I NEED my diamonds!”
My sister’s face was bright red as she looked like Godzilla, stomping around the room tossing and things left and right.

“Rebecca, you need to calm down before you ruin your makeup. St
art acting like the lady you were raised to be, and I will find the diamonds.”

I let out a
snort while mother scolded my irate and irrational sister.

“
Don’t worry, sissy, I’m sure daddy will buy you new ones if you can’t find yours,” I said with an evil laugh. I knew exactly where those two carat studs were, sitting in the box that’s right under my ass.

“Bernard gave me those when we signed the papers on our house! I HAVE to find them!”

Those stupid earrings probably could pay my rent for the next year at my little apartment. How someone could be that careless with that much money was stupid. Money was social standing in this town, and yes, I had some, but at least I did good things with it. I lived in a normal apartment, I drove a normal car, and I actually donated money to charity, without my name attached to it. Money wasn’t everything, but most people failed to see that. My family was selfish, greedy, and mean. Sure they might donate several millions of dollars to the hospital, as long as the improvements get “dedicated” in their name. Of course they host tons of charity events, and spend probably more on the party than how much their “charity” brought in. It’s all about status and staying on top. Today wasn’t about love; it was about money and a new last name. Basically a business deal between two wealthy families; let’s combine the powers and see what can be created next. All the more reason I would never get married. True love doesn’t exist around here, not in a long shot.

“Molly Anne, help me look for these earrings instead of just sitting there,” Mother snapped. Either I got up and handed over the “missing” earrings, or I listened to the tears and screaming for the next twenty minutes.

“Calm down
, Ursula, they are right here.” Holding the box up, I walked over and dropped them into my mother’s outstretched hand. Mother narrowed her eyes at me, and her lips formed a tight line. Quickly, she rushed over to my distraught sister’s side and tried to sooth the wailing beast. She kind of reminded me of a wildebeest when she cried, complete with snot and drool.

All this over fucking earrings, serio
usly could this day get any worse? Glancing over at the hooks on the wall where the ugly as sin bridesmaid dress hung, I knew it was only the beginning in this horrible fairy tale.

“Can you look this way girl on the end?” The camera man shouted at the group. I knew he was talking about me, and as many times as I’ve yelled my name at him, I’m still labeled as “girl on the end”. So what do I do? Well, I plaster on a fake smile and turn to the annoying man, silently punching him in the face, over and over again. We had been in these same positions for forever now; just fucking take the damn picture so we could be done with this crap.

“Molly, if you would cooperate, it wouldn’t take so long,” my perfect sister said all while holding a smile.

Clenching my teeth
, I continued to force a grin. “Fucking pageant bitch,” I mumble through my teeth. The flash of the camera went off for another couple minutes, and then the man yelled he was done. A collective sigh came from all the clones, as they patted their hair and giggled to each other.  A small cluster surrounded my sister as they all started to cackle about something, leaving me standing off to the side alone and awkward. Not that I minded, at least they were saving my brain cells from their stupid conversations about nail polish and lipstick.

“Ladies, we need to start
to line up for the recessional.” The lady with the clipboard and headset came over quickly, ushering us to the waiting golf carts. I thought my sister was crazy with this wedding bullshit, but oh heavens I was wrong. My boss apparently lived and breathed this bizarre world of tool and glitter. I never had to accompany her to her weddings, considering I didn’t ‘look’ like the type of person she employed. Normally, I was just the bitch girl; running errands and hiding in the background. Getting to see her in action today made my stomach crawl. Pageant moms frightened me, but this lady down right scared me.

“Ladies
, let’s get moving; we have exactly two minutes to get over there and keep this wedding on schedule.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, taking
a seat in one of the carts. I wonder if I could just hijack this machine and hit up the bar instead. It’s not like they would really miss me during the ceremony anyway. I’m sure with how much my parents are paying for that photographer, he could Photoshop me into the pictures, and taking a couple shots right now sounded like a better plan than watching this love fest go down.

“Hurry ladies, we have a beautiful princess we need to get to her prince,” my boss shouted.

Cue the white doves and singing frogs, this shit was getting old.

“I think you have had enough tonight, Molly,” the bartender commented as I slid my empty glass toward him. Scrunching my eyebrows, I shoved myself off the barstool and rolled my eyes. What MR. Bartender over there didn’t know was that I handled my alcohol very well. Three vodka crans and two shots wasn’t going to put me over the edge tonight. It merely dulled the love sick environment I had been forced to deal with.

Well
, there went my plan on getting wasted tonight. I got cut off by the bartender, and I could still walk in a straight line.

Glancing around the room at all the fuss and muss of the evening, I had to admit that it really did look amazing in here. The soft pink color that ruffled through the fabric on the walls gave off a romantic vibe, and all the crystals dripping from the tall flower arrangements at the table looked perfect against the white linens. Either I’ve been here way too long tonight to start to appreciate things like that, or I’ve drank way more than I thought I had. Someone save me from this pretty, glitzy world.

“Molly
, we are ready for you,” the wedding coordinator extraordinaire snapped at me, bringing me back from my mushy daze.

“Huh?”

“Are you going to play or not? I have you scheduled to perform before the bride and groom cut the cake. Are you ready?” She tapped her foot impatiently on the wood floors and glanced back down at her clipboard. I didn’t forget that I was going to play for my sister and her Ken doll tonight; I just didn’t realize that the time was now.

“Let me go grab my case and I’ll be right up there.”

“You have five minutes; we have a schedule to keep.” Crazy boss lady didn’t even look at me as she radioed something into her headset and ran off in the other direction. I bet I could sing a cover tonight and no one would ever know. The music selection that was playing tonight was a vast difference than what I was used to hearing. Don’t get me wrong, I loved all music, but could honestly tune things out that didn’t immediately grab my attention; case in point, whatever crap is playing right now.