married at first sight :: [malik]

five. weddings&surprises

"Alright, Zayn. And...we're rolling."

Zayn gulps.

It's too hot. He's sweating. His tie is too tight. His tux is too starchy. His knees are locking. His tongue is dry.

And cameras are rolling.

"Fuck...I'm roasting up here," Zayn hears Niall say, his groomsmen lined up behind him. But Zayn feels like he's underwater. He feels like he's been submerged beneath a hot bath. He's watching the priest wipe away beads of sweat from his forehead and wonders why they decided to hold this celebration outside. It's Miami. This is Florida. It's always either too hot or too rainy or too fucked up or too something else.

Zayn is nervous.

He keeps licking his lips and he also keeps clenching his fists at his side and he keeps fingering the ring in his pocket.

He's wondering if it's too late to back out now, but, he can see the television producer and the director standing off beside the multiple cameramen, and, like he's been told already, they're rolling.

His impulsive marriage to a stranger is now being captured and recorded on film.

What--Why did he decide to do this?

He can see his mother.

She's sitting in the audience between his father and youngest sister, and he can see her angry eyes even beneath her sunglasses.

"How could you give a ring to some girl you don't know--?"

Those were her words that morning, and never mind the things she had said when he first told her he was going through with this.

And here he was.

"You know who that ring really belongs to, Zayn."

That came from his sister, Doniya, as she fixed his tie and patted down his suit.

"I love how all of a sudden, everyone seems so intent to match me up with--"

"The only girl I've ever seen you fall in love with," she had finished.

And she kissed him on the cheek.

And she squeezed his hand. "As long as you think this will make you happy...?"

"I hope you're doing this because you want to, and not 'cause you're trying to escape the past."

That's what Liam said.

And he'd said his little spiel right before Zayn pocketed the ring and took a step toward the priest.

And Zayn was nervous, but he was growing more frustrated by all of the last-minute advice everyone seemed so hell-bent on giving.

"Where was this advice a month ago, mate?"

Liam had laughed. "Figured it was better late than never."

So now, as he stands before his friends and family and the priest, he jumps at the sound of the organ.

It was now or never.

Here comes the bride.

Here comes his bride.

And Zayn distributes his weight on one foot, then the other, licking his lips in anticipation as she makes her way down the aisle.

Her face is covered by a veil, but he can see brown skin and long, curly dark hair. She's got curves for days in her mermaid-style gown, and he can pick out a few of the voices around him.