Tiffany stands in front of her 3 bridesmaids and her maid of honor in long white dress. There was absolutely nothing spectacular about this dress. It didn’t highlight anything and it didn’t hide anything. She, who was naturally an incredibly plain individual, looked as though she was a mannequin in the store.

“So,” she squealed expectantly, “what do you think of the dress?” She asked. The three bridesmaids were Tiffany’s three best friends. Margo she’d met in college. Now while she didn’t get a degree from their old brick and mortar, she did get a set of twins and an alcohol problem. Which she claims ‘makes up for it in the end’. The other women weren’t sure if that was about the kids or the booze. Holly Anne, who notoriously answers to one, both, but most the time neither. Tiffany and she had been high school friends. Holly Anne was just as unnotable as Tiffany, if not a bit more. She wore a small smile that bordered on creepy and comforting. Usually tipping the balance when she brought up her ant farm. Holly Anne made the other women feel normal and she appreciated that with that she gained friends. It was a solid trade in her opinion. The last bridesmaid wasn’t really a friend. Sierra was Tiffany’s work friend. Which she only realized after she asked her to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. The planning had shown that while they clicked well in the office environment, Tiffany didn’t really know about out of office Sierra. Who was much different than her work counterpart. While Work Sierra might offer her interior designer or gardener when you need one, Out Of Office Sierra was so busy negotiating the terms of her divorce she ends up ruining every event by getting into a heated screaming match with her ex- husband, who the women had dubbed Matthew ‘dumb motherfucker’ Lovell, over the phone. Her maid of honor was no other than her twin sister, Teresa. Mother Teresa she had been nicknamed. Teresa and Tiffany had the codependency and identity issues. They knew that when they looked into the mirror it wasn’t only their face they were seeing. It made for a very intense need to differentiate between the two. While Tiffany May have been plain. Teresa was a firecracker. She was creative and artsy and she was loud and very opinionated and while that didn’t really mesh well with the ladies it made for fun wine nights. Teresa also was incredibly self righteous. Do good or you’re bad. That was her motto. The women couldn’t imagine going to her with anything sensitive. She was totally void of compassion. They were afraid she’d be the straw that brought their camels crashing down in an exhausted heap.

“Beguiling.” Holly Anne gushed. Margo finished off her drinking pointing her finger to Holly Anne.

“Took the words right out my friggin mouth.” She burped and chuckled. “I couldn’t think of the word. I couldn’t. I was like what does she look like? Astonishing? No. Magnificent? Not even friggin close. Out of this world? Honey, I hate to burst ya bubble but we’ve all worn white before, right ladies? Then Hannah Anne said it,”

“Holly Anne.” Holly Anne corrected.

“Beguiling. You look beguiling. And, stop me now if y’all think I’m going overboard, might I even say I feel beguiled by you. Anyone else getting that feeling?”

“I was just going to say that, I was sitting here thinking to myself and I went “self are you thinking about saying you feel beguiled by Tiffany’s dress,”

“Uh-huh.” Margo urged Holly Anne on.

“And my self was like ‘yeah Holly Anne, I was just thinking about saying that.’,”

“Of course.”

“Then you said it. But I was thinking it. So it’s kind of like I said it. In a way, huh?”

“Kind of but not really.” Margo shrugged.

“But also like kind of. Like basically.”

“Absolutely, kind of basically. But at the same time probably no. Like not at all the same thing.”

“Yeah, exactly. But also parallels. Like mirror image.” Holly Anne gleaned on.

“Maybe a funhouse mirror.” Margo retorted.

“Am I the only one looking at this dress and thinking. Beguiling. Like maybe it’s not a totally original idea. But, I don’t know.” Sierra shrugged. Holly Anne nodded.

“Inspired.” Holly Anne says holding back tears.

“I was just gonna say that.” Margo said pouring herself another glass of champagne. “I was sitting here, in this bridal dress store, amongst the lot of ya. And the query creeped on me. It was like ‘what do you think about Serena,”

“Sierra.” Sierra corrected.

“Selena.”

“Sierra.”

“Where’s the accent?”

“There’s no accent. It’s Sierra.”

“Sophia.”

“Did it really sound like I said Sophia?” Sierra asked. Margo grumbled incoherently as she polished her glass clean with her tongue.

“What about you, T?” Tiffany asked her sister. A hopeful look sitting on her face. Teresa scoffed.

“You look good, T.” Teresa bit. Saying the ‘T’ with unsaid animosity. The store got quiet.

“I look good?” Tiffany repeated slowly. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I asked.” Tiffany sniped.

“It just means I think you look,” Teresa eyed her sister in the dress, “good.” She smiled tightly her eyes saying everything she hadn’t.

“Of course you would say something like that.” Tiffany exclaimed shaking her head.

“Something like what?”

“Something condescending. If you don’t like the dress, just say you don’t like the dress.”

“I don’t like the dress.”

“You don’t like the dress?”

“Tiffany what do you want me to say? What? You want me to say something sweet like you’re, I don’t know,”

“Beguiling?” Margo offered.

“Is that what you want? Huh Tiffany? You want me to say I think you look beguiling in that dress? Instead of ‘I know you’ve been fucking my husband you Florida Georgia Line listening whore.’.” Teresa pulled 5 Florida Georgia Line Albums out and threw them at her sisters feet. The women looked between the two sisters. Seeing two separate pains in their eyes.

“You know I didn’t say anything when I found your big ass panties in my bed, or when you left your cult books at my house,”

“Scientology isn’t a cult Teresa, it’s an ethereal experience. I sent you a fucking email.”

“Tiffany you’re fucking my husband! I don’t care about what you eat in the morning!”

“I think she said ethereal.” Holly Anne said.

“What?” Teresa asked.

“I think you think she said ‘cereal experience’ when she actually said ethereal experience.”

“Why would Scientology have a cereal experience?” Tiffany asked ridiculing her sister.

“Tiffany you’re a home wrecking slut, and I lied when I told you that your eyes were the same size. You’re left one makes you look like an erased anime character. Also all those times I commented ‘thick’ under your Instagram pics I really mean bloated fucking whale.

“Grow up Teresa. Honestly it’s sad.”

“I’m not even upset about you fucking my husband. It’s about where.”

“Where did you fuck her husband?” Sierra asked.

“Tell them.”

“It was one time.”

“Tell. Them.”

“We got everything cleaned up.”

“Not everything.” Teresa said producing a small crumbled blanket.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the dog blanket my grandmother knitted for my dog when I first got him. My dead grandmother.”

“T...”

“Don’t T me Tiffany. On my fucking dog bed? How could you be so evil?”

“Was your dog there?” Holly Anne asked shocked at her friends actions.

“What?” Teresa asked.

“When it all happened? I’m sure it must have been weird. Scary even. For your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog.” Teresa said.

“You don’t have a dog?” Margo asked.

“She doesn’t have a dog. Our grandmother knitted for when she first gets one.”

“It’s relatively easy to adopt one.” Sierra added.

“Not when you’re extremely dyslexic. I have adopted a great number of bogs. Which is preparing me for the real thing, honestly.” Teresa nodded.

“So you already had the dog bed?”

“Yeah, for the dog.”

“But there’s no dog.”

“No, there’s no dog.”

“But there’s a dog bed.”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the dog bed for?”

“Where’d you find this genius, Tiffany?” Teresa asked nodding at Sierra.

“I just don’t understand what you’re using the dog bed for.”

“For the dog.”

“But... okay new scenario. Did your new house come with a bed.”

“No that’s be fucking outrageous.”

“So your new dog that you don’t have already had a bed.”

“Yes.”

“And that makes sense. You are incredible.”

“My question is how long were you holding 5 Florida Georgia Line albums and a dog blanket that your husband ejaculated into inside of your purse?” Margo asked.

“I was gonna ask the same thing...”

“What do you guys mean?”

“Well, we flew out here a week ago.” Margo said.

“And we’ve been eating with the blanket around and we put our bathing suits in your purse because it was the biggest. You can see why you might have maybe considered telling us about that.” Holly Anne said.

“Yesterday after we went jogging you gave me that blanket to wipe my forehead.” Sierra adds.

“You needed something. That’s all I had.”

“But you didn’t tell me that your husband, came into it.”

“You never asked.”

“You’re right. I didn’t ask if you’re husband ejaculated into the blanket you gave me when I asked if you had anything I could dry my face with. My fucking mistake.” Sierra bit with a quizzical look on her face.

“Let’s not make me out to be the bad guy. My sister fucked my husband on my doggy bed and they ruined my dog blanket.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Margo asked

“Oh, nothing.”

“You’re gonna do...nothing.” Tiffany questioned.

“I mean I was planning my revenge. For months actually and then I was in the pet shelter petting their sample puppies, the ones they let you see and hold before you can adopt one online. Lucrative business. Shelters. And-“

“You can adopt those dogs.” Holly Anne interjected.

“What dogs?”

“The ones in the shelters.” Holly Anne said.

“That’s not what a sample is.”

“You can buy a larger version of the thing you sampled.” Margo added.

“Some of these dogs are already too big. I don’t think I’d want a bigger version of that.”

“Well. You are beguiling.” Sierra smiled.