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Rule Number Twenty-One: Sometimes you mess up and that's okay.

Harry had grown up so differently than the rest of us. When his rebellion started, and he didn't want to go with the grain, he started to grow out his hair.

At first, it was a wild unmaintained mess, a complete opposite to what he usually had. And then it continued until it cusped the bottom of his ears. That's when he left and when he came back his hair had been just past his shoulders.

It was a metaphor in some senses, he tipped until he couldn't tip anymore. He made an absolute mess of his life and then he came back.

His now cropped hair that was messed a majority of the time, was a facade. He wasn't back on track, no, he was still trying to ruin everything.

I was rather harsh on Harry and I did feel bad. However, he made me so angry that I couldn't think straight. And although we hadn't spoken after the fight in his car, it still bothered me.

We stood by the doorway to greet our guests as they came for our rehearsal. Our wedding party had arrived around the same time we had with an absent Harry.

He hadn't shown up, and Tom was still hopeful. Sure that Harry would show. I didn't want to pop his bubble but I was doubtful. And I could tell slightly that it bothered Tom that Harry wasn't here.

My aunt that lived in Chicago made her way towards us. A fox pelt hanging around her neck that I, unfortunately, made eye contact with. I never got the interest in wearing dead animals.

"My beautiful Ana!" She cooed grabbing my face in her frail hands. They smelled of lavender, the hands of the elderly were always weirdly soft.

"Aunt Grace" I smiled back, looking briefly over at Tom who was completely intrigued with the old lady.

"Why are you so thin?" Her hands grabbed at my hips to pinch the non-existent fat, "Men love a womanly figure".

If only she was right, maybe the men in Chicago loved a little more cushion. The men here loved everything but. I was surprised she said anything at all.

Sure, I hadn't eaten a full meal since my bucket of ice cream I threw up earlier this week. But my soul didn't reflect that, I still felt like a packed sausage in this dress.

"Take care of yourself, alright?" She spoke before I had the chance to answer her bold question.

I just nodded before giving Tom an uneasy glance.

She swayed away through the doors greeting my mother who was being the ultimate hostess on the other side.

Agreeing that no one else was to show, me and Tom began our way inside.

"Harry!" Tom greeted surprised that Harry had made it.

There he was in his full glory.

His hair was mussed, his body dawned in a fitted suit jacket with a light blue button-down underneath that was barely buttoned up. Instead of dress pants, he wore tight black jeans with numerous gaudy rings on his fingers.

What was he wearing and why did he believe he could do so?

"Hi" Harry grumbled his voice not making it to a higher octave. If he didn't smell sober I would've thought that he was possibly drunk. He looked fragile as if a small trip would shatter him.

Noel showed a couple moments later, clearly flustered by Harry leaving her in the dust. Despite being rude and unruly, Harry was always gentlemen like. That was one of his redeeming qualities and so when that faltered something was clearly up.

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