Keenan stood in his hotel room, looking into a full-length mirror. He was dressed in a tux. He smiled at his image. It was his wedding day. There was a soft rap on the door.
“Keenan. It’s Tucker. Open up.”
Keenan went to the door but didn’t open it. “Wasn’t it your idea to get separate rooms? Something about the tradition of not seeing each other before the ceremony, as I recall?”
“Yeah, well since you refused to be the one to wear a dress, I think we’re safe. It’s kind of an emergency.”
Alarmed, Keenan furrowed his brow and opened the door. “What kind of emergency?”
Tucker stepped inside and walked past Keenan. He was carrying his tux jacket. He threw it onto the bed. “This,” he said, turning to face Keenan and pointing to the jumble of fabric around his neck. “I can’t get it tied.”
