Rue’s POV “Oh my God,” someone blurts in front of me, a guy with a septum ring and a half-full wine glass, eyes bright with recognition. “You’re the Rue, right? From the wedding yesterday?” Claire grins wider beside me, smug with satisfaction. “See? Iconic.” “You wore that blue dress!” a brunette says, already pulling out her phone. “My entire feed is talking about you. Like, you broke the internet a little.” I blink, caught off guard. “Wait, seriously?” The guy waves his phone as if it’s proof enough. “You’re trending, girl. The bride who ditched white. Bold. Romantic. A little scandalous. We love it.” Someone else chimes in from the crowd, nodding with a cocktail in hand. “And married to Alessandro CostaVanilli? Damn. You’re practically royalty.” A startled laugh escapes me, quiet and breathless. I feel a little flustered, a little dizzy, like I have stepped onto a stage I didn’t know I was auditioning for. “Well… thanks, I guess?” Claire elbows me lightly, leaning in with a
RUE By the time we get back, my arms are sore and I’m ready to collapse, but Claire insists on helping me “style the closet” with all the new clothes. Which really just means she lounges on my bed while I do the arranging. I’m hanging up a navy midi dress when she suddenly says, “So… there’s this party tonight.” I glance over my shoulder. “Okay?” She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “I was invited, but I don’t know if I feel like going alone.” “When is it?” “This night.” I pause mid-hanger. “You’re just saying this now?” She shrugs. “It slipped my mind during our retail therapy. So? Will you come with me?” I hesitate, but the look on her face is already victorious. “Fine,” I sigh. Claire jumps up like she just won the lottery. “Perfect. But there’s no way you’re wearing any of those boring outfits tonight.” I give her a look. “I just bought these.” “Exactly. And they’re for school. Not for a night of music, lights, and questionable decisions. Come to my room. I’
RUEBy the time we get back, my arms are sore and I’m ready to collapse, but Claire insists on helping me “style the closet” with all the new clothes. Which really just means she lounges on my bed while I do the arranging.I’m hanging up a navy midi dress when she suddenly says, “So… there’s this party tonight.”I glance over my shoulder. “Okay?”She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “I was invited, but I don’t know if I feel like going alone.”“When is it?”“This night.”I pause mid-hanger. “You’re just saying this now?”She shrugs. “It slipped my mind during our retail therapy. So? Will you come with me?”I hesitate, but the look on her face is already victorious.“Fine,” I sigh.Claire jumps up like she just won the lottery. “Perfect. But there’s no way you’re wearing any of those boring outfits tonight.”I give her a look. “I just bought these.”“Exactly. And they’re for school. Not for a night of music, lights, and questionable decisions. Come to my room. I’ll find somet
RUE The stairs feel longer this morning. My feet are bare against the polished wood, and there’s a lingering ache in my legs from the heels and the hours of standing yesterday. I pull Alessandro’s hoodie tighter around me and make my way toward the breakfast room. Halfway down the stairs, I hear footsteps, fast and light. Then Claire appears around the corner with her phone in her hand and that familiar mischievous grin stretched across her face. “There she is,” she says, pointing at me like I’ve just been summoned by the press. “Mrs. Vanilli, the icon herself.” I blink at her. “You okay?” She practically jogs up the last few steps to meet me and grabs my wrist. “Rue, you’re all over the internet. I mean, I thought there’d be backlash. I expected it. But they love you. Like, full-on worshipping you.” “What?” I ask, half-laughing, half-suspicious. “For the dress?” “For the whole damn thing.” She waves her phone in my face, screen filled with headlines. “‘A Blue-Blooded Bride for
RUEI sit on the edge of the bed, my fists clenched around the ruined silk pooled in my lap.The stain is deep and ugly, spreading across the bodice like a wound. It’s sticky against my skin. I can still smell the wine sharp, bitter, and clinging to everything.Claire is pacing.Back and forth. Hair bouncing, phone in her hand, muttering to herself like if she keeps moving, she’ll find the answer.“Okay, okay, we can fix this. Maybe Nina can… No, it’s silk, she can’t. God, why did she even have wine in here?”I don’t answer.I’m too busy biting down the fury rising in my throat. My heart is pounding. I can feel it in my temples.That dress was perfect.This moment was supposed to be perfect.And now I’m sitting here, cold and stained and humiliated, while Celeste probably glides down the hallway like she didn’t just throw a grenade into the middle of my wedding day.Claire stops in front of me, her eyes wild. “Rue, say something. Do you want me to call someone? Should I call Alessandr
RUEA knock comes first, then the door creaks open before I can even respond.“Rue?” Claire’s voice is chipper, too chipper for this hour.I groan softly, eyes squinting against the sunlight pouring through the curtains.Claire’s already halfway in the room before I can react. “Oh. Ohh… wow.”I sit up quickly, blanket yanked to my chest. Her eyes widen with mock scandal.“Well, well, well,” she says, grinning. “Look who decided to show up for her wedding thoroughly... exercised.”“Claire,” I mutter, my voice hoarse with sleep and embarrassment.She looks pointedly at the messy sheets, my bare shoulders, then around the room. “Where’s Lover Boy?”“Gone,” I mutter, glancing toward the door.Claire walks in, hands on her hips, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Snuck out early, huh? Probably didn’t want to risk me catching him with bed hair. Smart man.”I sink further under the covers.She laughs. “Rue, you're blushing. I haven’t seen you blush since you tripped in front of the priest durin