Welp, I finally finished my Ice Mechanic wedding planner fic loosely based on this post. Also on ao3.
Love is stupid. Raven Reyes has known that since kindergarten, when she punched a boy because he pulled on her ponytail and was chastised because “He only did it because he likes you.”
Finn almost made her believe she was wrong – until the day she picked up his phone to answer a call from an unknown number and a female voice on the other end informed her that she was speaking to “Finn’s girlfriend.”
She got Clarke out of that distasteful episode, though, and when both Clarke and Lexa and her and Wick crashed and burned at the same time, Raven was happily starting to plan their future as eccentric spinsters. That’s when, after years of silently being pined after by Bellamy, Clarke suddenly discovered that she liked him back.
To add insult to injury, Bellamy introduced his best friend Miller to Raven’s friend and roommate Monty, and now it’s two years after her supposed spinsterly life-partner got married that her other potential platonic life partner is getting married too, and Raven is about to be the only single person in their entire friend group.
Which doesn’t really bother her too much, honestly, because as the designer of the wildly successful anti-cheating app “mySpy”, Raven knows exactly just how bad most people are at staying monogamous. (The app was an accident, really: When she accused Finn of cheating on her, he got incredibly defensive, and “Why don’t you bug my phone then, if you don’t believe me?” turned into Raven staying up all night to write the app and ending up with Clarke’s number and a picture of her in nothing but a set of lacy blue underwear.)
Of course, she has complete faith that her friends, who deserve nothing but happiness, are the exception to that rule and will stay together forever, so she is grudgingly accepting the wave of weddings. But in contrast to Clarke and Bellamy’s improvised yet impossibly romantic elopement, Monty and Nathan are going all out.
“It’s a political statement”, Nathan explains when they ask her to be Monty’s maid of honor. “They don’t want us to get married? We’re going to get married so hard, every homophobic bigot on the planet is going to hear about it.”
Getting married “so hard” apparently includes not only flying 200 people to a rented villa in Italy, but also hiring Roan Azgeda, TV personality and wedding planner to the stars, to throw the ridiculous shindig. Raven’s concerns about the financial wisdom of that decision are soundly rejected by Monty.
“It’ll be good for business. We’ll publish some of the wedding photos, and people will love it. I mean, if anyone has to believe in love, it’s gotta be me.”
He’s not wrong, per se: In a ridiculous example of poetic irony, Raven’s best friend makes his money with niche dating apps – not just apps for lonely singles of different sexual orientations, faiths, or places of residence, but dating apps for dog owners and foodies and hockey fans and whatnot. And where she would suspect anyone else of only taking advantage of people’s loneliness (or horniness, in many cases), Monty honestly believes that he’s doing good in the world. Whenever Raven tries to convince him that, ultimately, most relationships are doomed to fail, Monty always counters: “Maybe. But you’ve got to give people a chance to try.”
And now he wants her, a public symbol of the frailty of love and regular recipient of hate-mail from supposedly happily married people, to stand witness when he swears to love and honor his boyfriend of two years until the end of his days.
“If you’re trying to make a public statement, won’t it look really, really bad if I’m standing next to you in the pictures?”
Monty handwaves that concern away.
“I don’t care what it looks like. You’re my best friend, I want you in this wedding.”
One week after accepting the stupid maid of honor title (because how could she ever say no to Monty?), Raven is letting herself into Monty and Nathan’s apartment for their first meeting with the wedding planner, whose show she sometimes secretly (and very drunkenly) hate-watches late at night.
As the only, late son of a 1950s screen goddess, Roan is Hollywood royalty and, as he explains in the opening montage to his show, has seen some glamorous weddings - which is apparently meant to assure viewers that he is competent at what he does. And she has to grudgingly admit, some of his weddings do end up looking pretty nice.
But getting there apparently requires him being incredibly pushy, and that may just be the thing she hates the most about Azgeda’s stupid, cheesy, overedited show. He always thinks he knows better than the couples what they want, always develops what he calls a “vision” that is the complete opposite of what the couples describe to him in the beginning of the episode, and not a single couple in the few episodes she’s watched has ended up with the wedding they actually wanted.
But that shit is not going to fly here. She’s not going to let him ruin her friends’ wedding. She may not believe in love, but she believes in good customer service and good parties, and she’ll make damned sure Monty and Miller get both – which is what she tells him the moment their hosts leave them alone together to get snacks from the kitchen.
“Just so you know, I won’t let you force your stupid “vision” on my friends”, she opens, out of the blue, and watches him raise an eyebrow in surprise. “I’m going to keep my eye on you, and if Monty and Miller don’t get exactly what they wanted, I will make your life a living hell.”
“I take it you don’t like my show.” His voice is deadpan, and shockingly different from what it sounds like on TV – deeper, more gravelly, and, Raven notices to her mortification, tugging at something deep inside her and sending shocks to places which have not received any loving attention in a very long time. Which, she quickly reasons with herself, is probably why she’s reacting this way. Maybe it is indeed time to put herself out there once again, see if she can’t find someone for a few nights even if she doesn’t believe in finding someone for a happily-ever-after.
“The only reason I push people so hard on my shows is that otherwise they would end up with horrible, tacky weddings, and that would reflect badly on my company. But your friends clearly have impeccable taste,” he gives the apartment, an industrial loft that somehow manages to feel sleek and earthy at the same time, an approving once-over, “so there’s no need for threats. Now, what are you wearing?”