Page 139 of Insta Bride
Her wedding present to us.
The familiar sounds from The Flying Monkey’s debut song which had already claimed its rightful place in Australian Rock Music Hall Of Fame started as I approached the top of the staircase. I couldn’t see my husband, but I knew he was downstairs, waiting.
Kye had wanted a mix of music that defined, us. I closed my eyes, listening as Kye’s choice of song reached its haunting climax.
“You’ve got me slammed against a broken door, shattered glass like shattered pride.
Distractions. Complications. Between us. Drowning out your cries.
I ask again a simple question, but you do not seem to care.
Tell me what you want, my dirty blonde. Ask me if you dare.”
Written by Xavier and Chase for Sydney, the original Dirty Blonde, Kye had insisted the song belonged to me. After The Flying Monkeys played it for us at the commitment ceremony, they’d insisted on playing it once more—at our wedding vow renewal.
The song ended and the crowd gasped as the band seamlessly started the next song.
It had never been played in public before.
According to Sydney and Xav, she’d written him a poem when they were at one of their lowest points. He’d turned it into a song.
It had been their private ode to each other, until now.
I started walking down the stairs, in a white gown that I’d chosen on a weekend in Melbourne with my friends. Instead of strangers as witnesses, we were surrounded by our families and friends. Those who’d been there at the beginning, like Dawson and Randi who’d somehow made it work.
Tony and Staci were already married with a baby on the way. Benjamin had moved Sami and her children into his penthouse, and they’d made society pages their own home ground. As for Seb, he’d tried to date Tash, failed with Jess and was now chasing a yoga instructor. We’d remained friends and Kye patiently agreed to a monthly double-date with whichever lucky girl Seb decided to invite along.
“I wish you a lifetime of happiness,” Jess said. Hugging me before going first down the stairs.
“Keep him on his toes and he’ll never step on yours,” Tash said, giving me a hug before following Jess.
“Don’t try and fit love into a box, the best love needs to be free,” Sydney handed over my bouquet before joining the parade down the stairs.
“So,” Olivia giggled, “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“I can’t believe it took so long.”
“To find what? A lying, cheating, asshole?”
“No, an honest, faithful husband.”
Olivia left me to my father’s arm. Mummy and daddy hadn’t welcomed Kye into their family at first. But when daddy had a heart attack three months ago, Kye had been everything to everyone. He’d organized food and carpooling to the hospital. He’d arranged one of his gym buddies to do all the odd jobs daddy had meant to do around the garden, and arranged a housecleaner.
Kye paid for everything—from his Softli commission. After the show had aired, Maddox had been fired and the CIO, Darius Patera, invited Kye to give him the pitch. Not only did he get the commission, but Kye had been offered a once-in-a-lifetime role at Softli.
Kye’s career was on fire, but he always made time for us, and never let me doubt his love.
A month ago, daddy agreed to walk me down the aisle and I didn’t know how much I’d wanted my parents’ support until I had it.
“Ready?” I asked daddy, supporting him by the arm.
“No father is ever ready to lose a daughter, but I am ready to greet my new son.”
I saw Sydney nod from the bottom of the staircase, and then heard Xavier’s guttural tones:
I want to be your dirty blonde
I want to be your muse