Smeth
Everything was pink. Pink! How could everything be pink?
Sure, there were chocolate colored napkins, and the bridesmaids had a brown little ribbon, but pink was the overwhelming color. Agatha put on a good face when people greeted her or when she rushed over to say her hellos, but it was almost painful to be in the sea of pink. Surely Frank had nothing to do with this; Alice must have a couple of screws loose.
She was probably just being mean. This whole happy-ever-after wedded bliss had never been part of her mindset, or at least, Agatha hadn't really had a chance for it, so maybe she was just being harsh. But it was a lot of pink.
"Smeth," she stated, gripping onto her friend's arm. Agatha had basically been dragging him around the place, because...because she could. And he needed to get out of his rut, "Dance."
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