Staring into the mirror, you take notice of all the tiny things that not even the man you're marrying is going to notice - the slight smudge of eyeliner at the corner of your eye from blinking a little too much; the paleness of your skin against the dress; the height (or lack thereof) of your heels; the choice of jewellery; the way the veil frames your face; the way you're panicking, and your bridesmaids/Maid of honour is trying to calm you down thinking you're getting cold feet, when in actual fact its the simplest thing like the babies are moving or you just want to get out there so you can marry the man you love, go on your honeymoon before returning at Christmas, spending it with all your friends and label mates, partying on New Years and heading off to tour in January.
I was pacing my dressing room, watching as Patrick and Andrew made the finishing touches to their tuxes, thinking about how something was going to go wrong. Either with Hemmingway and Rigby, knowing those two hyperactive puppies; or with the planning of the wedding, like the flowers will be the wrong kind, or the caterers will serve Alexiz non-vegan food; or the babies were going to put up a fight; or, worst of all, Gabe was going to ruin our wedding.
But as I exited the room, placing myself at the alter, the music changed to the wedding march, and Alexiz was making her way up the aisle, arm linked with Frank's; all those thoughts flew from my head as I saw how perfect she looked, and how happy she was. This truly was the best day of our lives.
For Pete's outfit, look here: http://media.photobucket.com/image/pete%20wentz%20suit/hansonrox/pete_wentz--large-msg-114650973425-.jpg?o=9
It;s exactly as Pete is wearing it, only with the jacket in black.
More of the wedding in the next chapter, which is being typed as you read.