You try your best to smile, but your face hurts as you force yourself to do it. Your heart hurts as well. Everything inside you hurts as you look at the happy couple.

You tilt your head as you look at him. Blond hair and blue eyes that had been haunting your dreams for the past year and a half. Your chest constricts and it's hard for you to breath. You've never been claustrophobic, but it seems like suddenly, that's what's happening to you.

Your eyes then move over to her. She looks candid at you and the guys. She giggles as the guys give her and him their congratulations. She blushes lovingly and you want to throw up, she's so sweet it's disgusting.

She's beautiful, you have to give her that. She's got that next-door girl that everyone seems to fall for. She's your classical long legged blue-eyed blond. You know they look great together, you know the fans accept her and coo them whenever they are seen together. You know their kids would be pretty with that over flown of beauty.

And you hate her for that.

Right now, looking at her, you hate her.

Poor little thing, looking so gentle and fragile and she doesn't even begin to imagine you are wishing her the worse things possible. She has no fucking idea and that pleases you the way it shouldn't.

You hate her, you know that, but at the same time you know you can't hate her because, after all, she puts that smile on his face.

You realize you've been standing here, looking at them, looking at her like you want to kill her, and you decide to move closer.

You walk towards her, a small smile on your face. The smile is as fake as it could get, but you don't think about it right now. You have to swallow the bile that seems to consume you and congratulate him, give him a hug and tell him you wish them all the good in the world. Your worse nightmare it's coming true and you want to die right there and then.

"This is so great," you say and you wonder if after the band is through, you could start acting, since you seem to be great at it. "I'm so happy for you two." You hug him first, and even though in other occasions you would have lingered in his arms, right now you do it as quickly and painless as possible. Still, the painless part doesn't seem to work as your heart breaks again. You proceed to hug her and she melts. She tears up and you want to hate her some more.

"Thank you," she whispers in your ear and she tightens her hold on you as you want to push her away. "Thank you for everything you've done."

You want to throw up.

You pull away, giving her a small smile. Gosh, she's so pretty and lovable, no wonder the boy it's head over heels for her. And for that you hate her some more.

Nick raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head, not wanting to talk about it. You'll die before accepting the fact that, a week ago, she went to you to talk about her relationship. She was worried. They had been together over a year and he didn't look like he wanted to move on. The girl had been wondering if he was planning on moving forward or breaking up with her. You, being your usual kind self, told her you'd talk with him.

You had three shots of tequila and two glasses of whisky before being able to conceive the idea of talking to him. Good thing you've gotten better at holding your liquor. Ha, not even AJ could beat you in a drinking game. You know you're on the verge of becoming an alcoholic, and that doesn't worry you as much as it should. After all, that would be just one teeny bitsy problem among all the psychological traumas and scars you already bare.

Those thirty minutes of talking were the longest you've ever known. He told you he was worried she wouldn't accept; tell him she was too young for a commitment like that. After your reassurance of her willingness to commit to him, he told you he would wait for the right time. He thanked you and you left in a hurry, wanting to crawl under your bed and just die for what you had just done. And as soon as you reached your room, you finished both bottles. The next day, your head felt like you had already died.

And now, looking at them, you know that if it hadn't been for you, they wouldn't be smiling and chuckling as the guys tease them.

Your friends are happy for Nick, as you know you should, but you can't. You can look at him and smile. You can hug him and congratulate him. You know you'll plan his bachelor party with the rest of the gang. You know the four of you will be his best men. You know you'll stand by his side as he takes her as his wife. You know you'll toast for his future. But even as you'll look at them dancing their first dance as man and wife, you know you won't be able to be happy for them.

You blink a couple of times before your eyes can focus again. You seem to loose touch with reality a lot more often than you'd like too. It's not like you can control it, since your mind just seems to start wondering off, but you don't like it. You can't really, really control what you do as your mind leaves consciousness. You're afraid your face will tell something you don't want them to see. You're afraid you'll whimper or maybe your eyes will close in physical pain and you sure don't that to happen. You would do anything before letting anyone into your pain. You've been able to keep it hidden from everyone for a year and a half already, and you're more than willing to keep it hiding for the rest of your life.

The sound of something popping gets your attention and you turn around to see Brian opening a bottle of champagne. You hadn't noticed them ordering anything. Brian chuckles as the cork hits the ceiling and falls down to the floor. Howie's opening another bottle and you recognize the brand as a nonalcoholic. At least the guys didn't forget to order that one for Alex. Brian starts serving the beverage and you wish you could have a glass of scotch instead of lame champagne. This will have to do for now; you know perfectly fine that you'll get through that unfinished bottle of whisky you left yesterday in your room.

You take the glass from Howie's hand and you smile back at him after seeing him give you a small grin. You're good at pretending everything it's all right. You're good and the guys could never see what is really there.

Brian raises his glass, making a toast for the happy couple. You go along with this action you consider a very lame charade. You finish your glass in one shot.

The guys start talking about something you really don't care. Still, you're standing by their side, pretending to listen to a funny story Barbara's telling. You chuckle at the right places and you nod at the right pauses. For you it's only noise coming into your ears, barely even registering in your mind.

Your eyes dart over to Nick, staring at him intensely. At the way his hand is caressing the side of her hip, just above the end of her blouse. At how he presses her against his side ever so slightly that anyone who wasn't looking for exactly that wouldn't notice. At the way he chuckles at her words, enjoying every single breath she lets out. But especially, at the way he tilts his head to be able to see her whole face lit up as she speaks, at how his blond locks fall to his eyes as he moves his head to place a small kiss on her cheek and the way his eyes dance and shine and dazzle just by looking at her.

You've seen that look before. That utter admiration and adoration look before. You've seen it in yourself for the past year and a half. You've seen it in the mirror whenever you stare at your face covered in tears. You've seen it before and you know it's deep and sheer love.