Dont own Glee (oh thank god)
It was the day every girl dreamed of. The dresses were beautiful, the ceremony was planned out to a tee, the rehearsal had gone flawlessly the night before and everything was, in a word, perfect.
Except for Mercedes.
It was chaos around her, Kurt was running around, ordering people to their spots while occasionally checking on her in her hotel room. Tina wouldn't stop crying, blubbering on and on about how far it's taken them to get here and Quinn was right besides her, patting her back and rolling her eyes, ignoring the small pang of jealousy that out of all her friends, she was still yet to be married.
Mercedes cracked her knuckles, much to her mother's dismay, as she sat in the hairdresser's chair, wincing at each yank and tug, finally sighing when the stylist removed her hands from her scalp.
"Beautiful," her mother said, clasping her hands under her chin and fighting back tears. Mercedes turned around looking in the mirror, frowning at the hairstyle. It wasn't her. It was poofy in the wrong areas, stringy in others and the stylist had added far too much gel.
"I hate it," she whispered, bringing her fingers to her gelled down hairline. "Take it out."
Claudette stood, staring at her only daughter. "Cedes. It's unique."
"I look like I stepped out of a Jet magazine from the 90s Mom," she said, a permanent grimace on her face. "Take it out and just give me curls."
"If that's what you want," the hairstylist said with a bit of attitude, turning the chair around and angrily taking the bobby pins from Mercedes' hair.
Kurt walked into the room, his face flushed red from working double duty as wedding planner and man of honor. "Oh, Cedes."
She rolled her eyes. "Dont even Kurt, I know you hate the hair."
"I didn't say that," he said, shaking his head.
She shot him a look, crossing her arms. "The last time you said 'Oh Cedes' was when I had my zebra print phase in high school. We both know how catastrophic that was."
He offered her a small shrug before smiling softly. "You grew out of that though."
Claudette sighed, looking in the mirror. "What's the problem Kurt?" she asked, looking up at him, knowing that he wouldn't be in here to chat with so much more to do.
"Right. The lilies aren't here."
"What!?" the older woman gasped, standing to her feet. "The ceremony is in an hour. Where are they?"
Kurt shook his head. "I'm not sure."
"Well find out!" she snapped.
"Mommy, dont yell at Kurt," Mercedes groaned, rolling her eyes, turning to her best friend. "It's fine if they arent here."
Claudette opened her mouth to respond but snapped her head around, hearing a loud scream coming from the other side of the suite. "What was that?"
"It's fine," Santana said, poking her head out from behind the door. "It's all good. Um... Rachel might have ripped her dress."
"Mommy," Mercedes said again, rubbing at her throbbing temple. "It's fine Tana, I think there's a sewing kit downstairs. Tina can fix it for you, right?"
Tina nodded her head slowly. "Anything for the bride." She started to tear up, sniffling loudly. "I just cant believe this is happening. First Kurt, and then me and now you. We're all married."
Mercedes rolled her eyes for the hundredth time, sighing. "Dont cry T," she said flatly.
"I can't help it," she squeaked, rubbing at her eyes.
"I need a Tylenol," Mercedes muttered under her breath, catching her mother's glare.
Claudette tore her gaze from her daughter and addressed Kurt. "How are the groomsmen?"
"They're fantastic, the tuxedos look phenomenal."
"And the groom."
"He's fine," Kurt nodded, faking a smile.
Mercedes knew it was a lie since Kurt never used words like 'fine'. He used words like fantastic, and phenomenal but never just fine. "He's panicking isnt he."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "He's ecstatic."
"He's panicking," she said once more. "Kurt, I know him. He's panicking. Get him a scotch, it calms him down. Only one, more than one and he'll end up singing his vows."
Kurt nodded, looking away from Claudette and leaving the room.
"Mommy, you've got to stop yelling at Kurt. He's doing this as my wedding gift. Planning this was him."
"I know," she said, sitting with her chin high in the air. "I just want it to be perfect."
Mercedes lowered her head, cringing when the stylist straightened her back up. "It doesn't have to be perfect. We were happy with a small wedding in a church. Hell, I wanted to get married in a tent in the back of the house. We didn't need this extravaganza."
Claudette shook her head. "No daughter of mine is getting married in a tent. Now. I have to go get dressed, and then I'm going to help you get dressed. Be right back."
Mercedes gave her mother a small nod, realizing she'd frowned more than smiled this entire experience. It wasn't that she never wanted to get married, it was that this wasn't her wedding. This was her mother reliving her own marriage through Mercedes. The catering, the Vera Wang dress, the tuxedos. It all had Claudette Jones written on it. Mercedes tensed, feeling the stylist tug on her hair once more.
"Okay, that's it," she said standing. "Go work on my mother's hair."
"But I'm supposed to-"
"No. Just go work on my mother's hair. When you're finished, I'll be ready."
Mercedes was happy to get her out of her suite, especially with her attitude. She'd have to remember to ask her mother why she hired that woman in the first place. Looking around her suite as people ran back and forth, some still getting dressed, Mercedes couldn't help but rub at her eyes. If she could just fall asleep and wake up married, she'd be fine.
She needed air. The room was crowded and she was pretty sure she was on the verge of a panic attack. Without making too much noise, Mercedes snuck into her suitcase, pulling out her sneakers and jacket and snuck out of the suite, without making another sound. She wasn't sure where she was going but she needed out and she needed out now. Looking at the map on the side of the elevator, she decided the garden downstairs was her best bet for peace. Once there, Mercedes found a nice bench and sat, rubbing her hands on her jeans legs and inhaling the cool spring air. She exhaled after a few seconds, tears falling down her cheeks while she did. She'd lost control of her own wedding day, and she didn't even know how to get it back.
"Didnt you ever hear the saying pretty women shouldn't cry?" a deep voice said behind her.
Mercedes wiped at her face, recognizing the voice and facing the owner, a small smile on her lips. "I don't think that's a saying, Sam. What are you doing here?" she asked.
He placed his hands in his pockets, walking towards her. "You invited me to the wedding, remember?"
She nodded slowly, fighting back more tears.
"You gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked, worriedly. "Or are you going to make me guess?"
She thought about telling him the real reason she was down here, not dressed, on her wedding day.
"This isn't my wedding," she finally whispered. "This isn't what I wanted."
"What did you want then," he wondered, sitting down next to her and using a thumb to wipe a single tear away.
Mercedes shrugged, rubbing her forehead. "I have no idea. I never thought about it. I had one goal. After I'd reach that goal, I'd worry about marriage and planning a wedding."
"Well did you reach the goal?"
She smiled gently, nodding her head. "Yeah. I found out I got nominated for best new artist two weeks ago."
Sam leaned over, gently bumping her shoulder with his. "See. So what's the problem?"
"I don't know."
"Do you love your soon to be husband?" he asked, looking down at the ground.
Mercedes scoffed. "Of course I love him. I wouldn't be marrying if I didn't."
"Stranger things have happened Cedes," he said with a wink.
She started to crack her knuckles again, staring down at her engagement ring. "This entire thing is glamorous and sparkly and we aren't a glamorous and sparkly couple. We wanted to get married in a tent. But no... My mother was not having that." Mercedes placed her head in her hands and groaned. "I should not be crying on my wedding day."
Sam reached over and patted her back. "You can do whatever the hell you want on your wedding day. If you want to cry, you can cry. If you don't want fancy and sparkly, don't have fancy and sparkly. You wanna know why?"
"Why?" she asked, looking up.
"Because it's your wedding day. Screw what your mother thinks. It's about the bride and groom. As long as they're happy, everyone else can go to hell."
Mercedes smiled sadly, pulling Sam into a hug. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said, hugging her back. "Now get upstairs before everyone starts to worry. I'm pretty sure your groom wouldn't want a Runaway Bride on his hands."
She stood, straightening her shirt and pushing a strand of hair out of her eye before walking back to the entrance.
"Hey Cedes," Sam called, turning around on the bench.
"Save a dance for me at the reception."
Kurt paced around the suite, trying to come up with a believable lie to tell Claudette for why her daughter was missing when Mercedes sauntered her, her eyes red, but a genuine smile on her face. He grabbed his best friend by the shoulders, a wild look in his eyes.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"I went to get air," she answered obviously amused.
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh you think this if funny? Your mother will kill me if this doesn't go right!"
Mercedes patted his pale cheek. "Kurty, you worry too much." She went to sit in her stylist chair, reaching for the still warm curling iron and plugging it in.
"Why are you so calm?" he squinted at her.
She spun around to face him. "Because, it's my wedding. I have the right to want it to be, the way I want it to be. So what you're going to do, my amazing man of honor, is, you're going to get some orchids from downstairs, get the girls to help you, tell the violinist not to play that lame wedding song when I walk down the aisle and you're going to make sure my mother doesn't touch anything else."
Kurt fidgeted, switching his weight from one foot to the other. "Cedes... she's scary," he whispered.
"And I'm the bride who was just minutes away from leaving. So... You're going to be amazing and change everything around so it's what I want. Not what Mom wants. And you're gonna do it in an hour. Capisce?"
He nodded, taking his clipboard from the with him, and leaving the suite.
Mercedes turned around, grabbing the curling iron. Everything was going to be fine. She could feel it. Her mother might be pissed by the end of the day, but right now, she couldn't care less.
The music started to play and Mercedes had to sit, after spending the past 2 hours on her feet, greeting old family members at the reception. She crossed her legs, fiddling with her bouquet as each couple got on the floor, dancing with their significant other. It was reminiscent of another night, far in her memory. The only difference was-
She looked up being snatched from her thoughts, a hand extended towards her.
"I just wanted to say you look really beautiful tonight. Can I have this dance?"
She couldn't fight the smile on her face, before placing her flowers on the table and slipping her hand into Sam's and standing.
"You're cheesy for using that line you know."
He shrugged, leading them to the center of the dance floor. "It worked the first time didn't it? Besides there's nothing you can really do. You said you'd save me a dance... Mrs. Evans."
She groaned dramatically, draping a hand over his shoulder. "You're going to say that all the time aren't you?"
"Until it gets annoying, yeah," he laughed, swaying them back and forth. "Thank you for the scotch by the way."
"You're welcome," she smiled softly.
Sam looked around the reception hall, knitting his eyebrows together. "Not glamorous and sparkly, huh?"
"Shut up," Mercedes giggled, playfully hitting his chest. "We are neither glamorous nor sparkly. You have a bolo tie on for god's sake."
He nodded. "Yeah, but it's not just any bolo tie, it's the bolo tie."
She eyed him, shocked. "The?"
"I thought you-"
"Lost it?" he finished. "I never lost this tie Cedes. I never lost anything that had to do with you. And now you're stuck with me. For like... ever."
"Good," she grinned.
Sam cocked his head to the side. "Good?"
"Yeah. Because that means you're stuck with me too. Forever."
He gave her a half-smile before trying to be serious. "I think I can live with that."
"Yeah? I think I can too."
A/N: Sometimes I just get hit with Samcedes feels and I write a one-shot and cry. This is a product of having a wedding marathon on tv and crying about Samcedes. Not enough people are writing about them as much and that makes me super sad because I loooovveee the samcedes writers.
Anyways, before I start sobbing. I hope you enjoyed this. Surprise groom and all :)