Finally, Autumn arrived. 

The season that changes her hair between green and blue. Beneath it is her strawberry blonde, which I rarely see. Throughout the five years we’ve known each other, she’s kept it short. She has bright, sky-blue eyes, so bright she should have been a Summer. Those eyes hide behind square glasses, and she’s got that post-surgery Lady Gaga nose, which frames her thin lips.

Oddly enough, though we share the same height, she always looks taller than I.

Or maybe someone is lying.

“Makasi,” I said to the waitress, while slightly adjusting my sitting position and glancing around me. I noticed that wearing something slightly short, over the knees, wasn’t a very good idea. It is a Muslim country after all, and this is not Bali. This is the mainland, where “Western” tourism hasn’t touched. Autumn informed me that there would be another bridesmaid and she was traveling from Bali as well. Just the two of us will be next to her on the wedding day. 

Bab - or, in her full African name, the kind that might make your house start floating when you say it out loud, just like mine - is a psychologist and educator at the same school as Autumn’s. We will be sharing a room for two nights. I was informed that she has gecko-phobia. Well, I do too, but I’m Southeast Asian, so I gotta act tough. When I first met her, this Black lady didn’t look a day over 30. She’s about chin-height to me. I was showing her how good my nipple covers worked, that I had worn them to two concerts, and they were so worth the value.

Later, I got to know from her that she’s pushing 40. Dang it, blacks don’t crack. But it also made me feel lowkey ashamed that I flashed her my ET’s boobs. Now that was elder abuse.

The rehearsal days went by more beautifully than the wedding itself, filled with photo-picking, singing practice, and talking. Especially those nights that ended with me and Bab shading the groom.

“I love Autumn, but that dude looked like a fish.”

“Don’t say that.”

Of course he did. A furious deep-sea fish, if I may.

Bab and I both noticed that he was having a hard time navigating his emotions, and often ended up taking it out on his bride. My firsthand experience? He kept insisting Autumn visit the beach with him, even after she told him she was too tired and not feeling well several times. He wouldn’t take no.

Well, I’m not a look-bully, but if you’re ugly and got me fucked up… hmm.

The wedding day came sooner than I thought. Autumn’s bright blue hair was sprayed pitch-black, and I was transformed by local makeup to look 25 years older than I actually am. Bab showed up in a gorgeous red Javanese dress, while mine was a bright light green. At that point, I felt like a celery. 

Celery in flour.

There was a little discourse over the mic. If you don’t already know, church communities around the world have sent over 35,000 singer candidates to The Voice TV show every year. Just kidding. More or less. But what I mean is these locals are insanely good at singing. I assume it’s the same in the Philippines, too. They hit every note.