Lovers' Reception

Blowing everything the family planned out of the water, the curtains roseand revealed a popular band set to play. But, Lana didn’t even notice them.

She only had eyes for the glowing bride, Morgan, who clapped her hands against her face and squealed when she recognized the band. Morgan wrapped her arms around her new husband, jumping up and down even though she wore uncomfortable heels.

Lana’s stomach flip-flopped and she felt the white sauce pasta rising in the back of her throat. Afraid of losing her catered dinner right here, she grabbed the glass of water and sipped.

Morgan waved at Lana, begging her to come out and dance with her. The song’s lyrics reflected Lana’s feelings: “I don't wanna be needing your love
I just wanna be deep in your love”

She shook her head but Morgan insisted, smiling and pleading with her sparkling brown eyes. Lana’s shoulders sank but she got up, smoothed her dress, and strolled out to her friend’s side.

“This is so awesome! They’re my most favorite band ever.” Tears of happiness rolled down Morgan’s painted cheeks.

“Yeah. They’re pretty good.”

Morgan’s face fell a bit and she leaned over. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you. I know I’m married but that doesn’t mean we need to end. Robert says he doesn’t care, that women are not the same as men.”

“What? I’m not gonna be a side piece.

“No, you wouldn’t be a side piece. You’d be more like the other half of me. Lana, you’re the moon of my world and he’s my sun.” She smiled and folded her hands over Lana’s.

She yanked her hands to her side and shook her head. “No, my world does not rotate around you. I, I can’t believe you would even think this was okay to suggest. How little do you think of me?”

Before Morgan could respond, Lana’s stomach did another huge lurch. Her cheeks bulged with pressure and then, she threw up spaghetti all down the front of the pristine wedding dress. Everyone dancing around them froze, staring in horror.
The music stopped, leaving only silence.

Morgan’s eyes bulged as she studied the contents of her lover’s stomach spread out on sequins and lace. Panting in shock, she lifted her gaze to Lana’s. “How could you?”

Beside her, a young woman, with hair the size of a small country, clutched her stomach. She took a step forward and then hurled on the floor. Another dancer lost their dinner. At first, it seemed like an involuntary reaction response but groans and gasps preceded the mass exodus.

Everyone who ate the pasta vomited violently in whichever direction they faced. Morgan screamed and then she too, lost the color in her face. Her arms clutched her spoiled dress, trying to fight down the urge to puke.

She caught Morgan’s eyes and lost it.

Lana stumbled to the nearest trashcan and vomited again. When she bent over, a small bottle tumbled from her cleavage and fell into the rubbage. Now, Morgan would never be able to think about her wedding to Robert without thinking of puke. They also wouldn’t suspect Lana because she’d eaten the pasta too.

And Lana didn’t even feel remotely bad.