August Moon

Chapter 1: Ghost In The Wedding

Faded jeans and pristine white shirt; everyone could tell Lexis was not the awaited bride.

But for a second everyone turned with anticipating eyes, it almost felt like she was late for her wedding. And if Natalie was not walking her way with a poisonous glare, she would not be reminded that she was here as a wedding painter.

"Well? I thought you were waiting until there was no one left."

Lexis chuckled rather awkwardly. "Sorry, my alarm failed me. I'm still fifteen minutes early," She walked to the front, toward the left side of the central flower arch where she would not be a distraction. She looked back. Natalie followed as she gestured to a curl-head blond holding a wooden easel.

"Was it a close call?"

"What do you mean? Reverend Fred has been here early and," Natalie looked at her wristwatch. "I gotta go. Cress, help her set up," she hurriedly disappeared somewhere else.

By the time Lexis looked at the staff she was left, he had successfully settled the easel. He took the canvas from her hand to unwrap it. "Cress, right?" she initiated as she helped carefully mount it to the easel.

The younger male nodded and smiled, dimple at the curl of his lips. His round eyes turned to subtle crescents; it made his name a sense.

He extended his hand. "Lexis Lewis, is it? Your name sorta sticks well," he gently tapped his index finger on his temple. Lexis shook his hand and chortled.

"Thanks. Your name is...peculiar. I have never met someone with your name until you," she removed the messenger bag from her shoulder and paused to think where she had to put it.

Cress let out his palms. "I can hold it for you," she immediately placed the bag in his hands. "That means I am the first Cress you met yet?" He held the bag in place—almost even hugging it—as she rummaged through it.

"Ah-huh," she glanced up at him, realizing how tall he was from a close distance.

"Cool. You're also the only Lexis I have met in my life," he paused. "Natalie told me about you."

"She did?" she put ample paints on the palette and took two steps back. "As long as she did not speak ill of me."

He chuckled as she looked around. "She didn't. It's only good stuff,"

"Could be a bad thing to anyone," she frowned sarcastically.

He held her humored glance and beamed an excited smile. "Do you believe in fate and destiny?"

Lexis raised an eyebrow. "Suddenly? Sure. My grandmother told me tales about them."

"Consider how we are all somehow connected," he walked close when she gestured. She took another paint tube. "If you think about it, we don't just meet someone. Our encounters are rooted in another, and then through us, another is made. Encounters always meant."

She stifled a laugh. "Mm-hm. Therefore, we're meant to meet?"

He grinned. Before he could say something, he turned to someone calling him. "We will know that, for sure," he leaned her bag beside the easel and ran somewhere.

"Cute," she whispered. She moved close to the canvas, her eyes started to get to real work.

There were flowers everywhere; tulips, specifically, matching the color of the clothes everyone was wearing. Two lines of flower posts separated each side of the audience from the red carpet.

Everything looked perfectly placed. Well, what else was expected of Natalie's strict and detailed wedding plans?

There were less than sixty people seated in the audience. On the left, a mother and a staff she had remembered named Melanie was trying to calm a young girl having a tantrum. She looked mortified, though.

Lexis shook her head. To her right was the peaceful side—everyone was on their phone. Not far from them, a live jazz band was on standby. They were a group of middle-aged men and women, wearing formal suits that suited the theme of the wedding.

Rolling up her sleeves to her elbows, she started painting. The base of the background of sky and trees stretched into panorama was what she worked on first. It was a great perk that she had worked on dozens of paintings; she instantly knew where everything would be respectfully put.

When everyone, except the bride, was present, she worked on people's basic forms. Make sure everyone could fit the canvas, Natalie always said.

So far, her hand worked as her mind planned.

Just when she was done with the flower girl and the ring bearer, the classic Canon by Johann Pachelbel started playing.

Classic. The jazz band brought justice to the famous piece and it made the start of the ceremony a sweet plus, like an extra cherry on top.

The world stopped for the bride and Lexis took a moment to adore the details of her muse today. She was beyond beautiful. The way the groom's eyes glistened in adoration made Lexis sigh in awe. Those eyes were the eyes of someone genuine; it may change but it sure would last. She always saw them at every wedding and each time, they hold different stories.

And so, the grand finale of her work came.

Tongue slightly stuck out, she stretched her arm a little and painted the bride. Her gown, shape, expression, paused gesture—her form. She painted her in all colors that contoured her. The groom was easier to paint, but she paid special detail on how they intertwined their pinky fingers instead of holding hands.

Promise ends well when meant.

"Psst!"

She was just about to finish the flower bracelet of the bride.

Eyebrows furrowed to the surreptitious call, she turned to her right and saw a man wearing a black satin shirt. He was not dressed for the wedding.

She could only see his eye and his silver-white hair poking behind the flower arch. He waved his hand and gestured for her to come his way.

Who...? Her eyes wandered to see if anyone was seeing the person as well. Natalie was nowhere. The other staff was busy with other things. She met eyes with Cress, who smiled at her briefly, but he stormed away with his hands full.

Lexis squinted her eyes. Despite being hidden, his face rang familiar. "August?" she whispered and took a step, but he vanished.

When she stood back in front of the canvas, the brush slipped from her hand and her face turned pale. The painting she had been working on was decorated with slightly damped white petals that issued a distinguishable chocolate scent. She did not dare move a thing in fear of creating damage—if there was any more to add.

Natalie was walking her way. "Shoot, shoot," she picked up the brush and looked around. She had two in mind, either make an excuse it was experimental and be scolded or destroy her art and be scolded nonetheless.

However, her dilemma didn't find its end. The petals that before littered her painting had turned into small clusters of tulip origami. It sure added a sprinkle of grandeur to her painting but she wasn't sure anyone else, specifically Natalie, would feel the same.

To her friend, a plan was a plan. She would appreciate a few innovations but not in this situation. Their friendship could remain, but her position in Natalie's team as the painter could say bye.

As her eyes rounded the canvas in hopes of it magically disappearing, she caught a glimpse of something leaning against her messenger bag.

A chocolate cosmos the color of alabaster; the same that sat on her bedside table last night. Pieces fit to place.

She smiled. "It was you."