Who Could Love an Antagonist

I woke up with a sound of alar...just kidding.

We are not doing this. I'm not starring inside a cliché novel. In fact, I'm not even the heroine of this story! Who is the heroine, you might ask? A beautiful creature named Jessica. Pure, lovely Jessica.

With her long brown tresses, dark brown eyes, voluptuous body, and big pouty lips. Everything that is required of the main girl in a romance novel. And just like every romance novel, the female protagonist deserves a dashing male protagonist so that she can fall in love with him and they live happily ever after. In this case, it was my twin brother Ansel Adams.

He was the perfect gentleman and the best fiancé Jessica could ask for. I was quite proud of my brother. And I, Anya Adams, would consider myself merely a side character. The snarky, lovable best friend or the sister of the main characters every reader grows to love.

Yep, that's me. I was both. And this story is about to end with a happy ending as every romance novel should. My brother Ansel was getting married!

I've always loved weddings, you see? To me, everything about it was beautiful. The flowers, the theme, bright and beautiful colors, every little detail brought joy to my heart. So it was no surprise that I was extremely excited about it, especially since I was the maid of honor.

 "What do you think of this dress?" Jessica held up a brown dress. We were at the bridal shop, alongside two other bridesmaids, Mira and Erica.

"Ehh...brown makes me look washed out," Mira remarked.

"It's not your day, Mira. It's Jessica's!" I exclaimed.

"I get it, but still," Mira looked annoyed. She didn't share the same enthusiasm as me.

"How about red?" Jessica asked.

 "Red is good," Mira said. Erica also nodded in approval.

 "Anya?" Jessica looked at me expectantly.

"Excellent choice," I smiled.

 "That's decided then," Jessica clapped her hands together. "Since you are the maid of honor, I will let you wear something extraordinary. How about that dress over there?"

My eyes followed her finger to see what dress she referred to, and I almost tripped on my feet. It was extraordinary, alright! Calling it a dress would be an insult. It was more like a ball gown. It had a long luxurious skirt. The fabric looked delicate and sparkly. The top was corset style with beaded shoulder straps. It was a dress fit for a princess.

 "Excuse me, Jessica. I appreciate your sentiment, but there's no way I can pull that off," I said.

 "Don't be ridiculous. You are gorgeous, and this dress is perfect for you," Jessica insisted.

I sighed but supported her decision. She was the bride, after all. Next up, cake tasting.