The Facade

Chapter 18

Marlon and I rode the elevator down together quietly. It surely didn't feel like I was going to get married. He was quiet and in his thoughts. Marlon Brando, the famous womanizer was getting married.

We went to City Hall in a limo. Outside, Marlon held my hand as we walked up the many, many steps of the building. Once we made it to the entrance, we quickly slipped inside. At the office, we waited on line with the many other couples. They all stood in twos happily.

People from all walks of life were in that room for the same purpose. To tie themselves to one person possibly for the rest of their life. Some people would be genuine, others deceitful. Either way there was some beauty to that idea. Sacrificing everything for another person.

Most of them recognized Marlon. He stood there with a clenched jaw, trying to pretend as if he wasn't the elephant in the room. People whispered to each other, wondering what he was doing there or why he'd want to get married at all. One person even said "where's his future wife?" as I stood right next to him.

Once we made it to the window, the woman behind it looked up at us. She did a double take between the papers and our faces. After licking the tip of her pen, she lowered her cat eye glasses.

"Name?" She looked at us from above the rim of her specs.

"Rose Taylor." I answered first. The woman looked to Marlon as if her life depended on it. Marlon knew she recognized him.

He cleared his throat. "Marlon. Marlon Brando."

After he said his name, the people behind us on the line broke out in whispers and mumbles. They were all correct. They really did recognize him. Marlon Brando himself were in their presence, on their wedding day no less!

The woman smiled from ear to ear as if she won a prize. She happily wrote his name on the paper. Then, she looked to me with widened eyes and back to him.

"Oh, Mr. Brando." She observed. He didn't like that comment.

"When will they be ready to see us?" Marlon asked tensely, aggravated by her nosiness.

"Soon. Just sit over there and they'll be right with you." She pointed to a waiting area. Marlon nodded, then walked with me over to the seating. We both sat there and looked ahead, but not toward each other. Neither of us spoke. There was total silence between us. For the duration of our time sitting there, people continued to stare and whisper.

"Hi, Mr. Brando?" One man walked over to us. He was linking arms with his newlywed wife. Her smile peaked out from the under the lace of her hat. "May we have an autograph?"

Marlon didn't want this moment to be about autographs, you could tell. Still, he fixed the pout on his face and smiled. "Sure, do you have a picture or a paper?"

"No, I didn't expect to see you..." The man began, then he looked in his hand. He lifted up a paper. "I have this."

"Our marriage certificate?" His wife asked in disbelief.

"Come on, what other way are we gonna get it?" The husband asked his wife.

"I will not have you have Marlon Brando scribble his name across our marriage certificate!" His wife cried out.

The man rolled his eyes and looked to Marlon. "Women. She asked me to come over and talk to you cause she's a big fan. Now she doesn't even want an autograph."

"I want an autograph but just not on our marriage certificate!" She yelled on. "What is it that you don't understand?"

Finally, they called Marlon and I's names.