Only Ayen could wake me up that early on a Saturday morning. Going on a rampage didn't have an effect on that woman. She'd just charm you into submission and before you knew it you're doing her bidding. Her powers of persuasion reach their peak when she's in a crisis. Her wedding coordinator cancelled on her-a really bad time to be sick, she said-and Chad was only available in the afternoon because of an emergency meeting at the office. I had to go with her, she said, or else she'd break down. My friend, the drama queen. The only person immune to Ayen's tantrums was... Chad.

Chad was the complete opposite of Ayen: serious, intimidating and a perfectionist. Ayen's ex-boyfriends were either rock musicians or athletes, so imagine my shock when she told she was dating (and now, marrying) a 30-year-old guy who runs a real estate business. Not that Chad didn't measure up to Ayen's standards. In fact, he turned out to be more than what Ayen wanted in a man.

Their engagement came as a surprise as Ayen and Chad had a whirlwind romance. They dated for three months and got engaged within half a year. I didn't know what hit Ayen when she decided to tie the knot with a guy she'd only known for less than a year. I was even more surprised that Chad, who was obsessed with work, would settle down within a short period of time. I guess it was true love.

Any bride would tell you that planning a wedding was stressful. In true Ayen fashion, the stress levels hit the roof. Adding more complexity to the already volatile situation was her inability to make decisions without Chad around. He didn't like the font she picked for the invitations so she had to choose a new one that didn't look "too feminine" or "informal". We spent hours scouring fonts at the stationery office before she finally decided on Vermandois, which looked a lot like the one Chad dissed.

Chad didn't like roses, but Ayen loved them so choosing flowers had to be another exercise in compromise. She ended up with an arrangement of lavender double tulips, pink godetia, lavender orchids and a smattering of Ecuadorian roses for her wedding bouquet. The bridesmaids will carry a mix of peonies and cymbidium in shades of pink, while Ayen stuck to the flowers she and Chad agreed upon for the church and reception.

We finalized her orders with the florist at lunch time but we were late for our appointment with the couturier. Instead of a full meal, we just grabbed a few donuts and frappuccinos. Stress eating at its finest. That wasn't the best idea if you're going to be measured for gowns.

"You know, Chad doesn't like over-the-top wedding dresses," Ayen said, as a designer's assistant measured her bosom. "He says ball gowns don't look good on me because of my height."

Eye roll.

"Chad doesn't like anything," I mumbled as I flipped through a fashion magazine.

She blabbed on. "I think he's right. A figure-hugging gown is better."

Chad the wedding gown expert. Whatever.

Then it was my turn to be measured. Ayen had the brilliant idea of making me try one of the dresses from the rack.

"You have to put this on, Cara. This is so you!" Ayen squealed while holding up a purple column dress with a low sweetheart neckline.

"I thought Chad doesn't like purple?"

"He's not going to wear it. Don't be a kill joy. Try it on, pleeaase."

I grabbed it from her and stomped into the fitting room.

Just as I suspected, the gown didn't feel right. It was tight in the middle, the neckline was too low, and it showed too much of the cleavage I painstakingly try to hide.

"Ayen, if you're really my friend and you want me at your wedding, you'll promise me you won't pattern my gown after this, or else..."

I froze. Chad and Lucas were standing in front of me as I opened the fitting room door. Ayen was beaming.

There was Lucas again, seeing me in a hideous outfit for the second time. Of course, he had to look model handsome in a white T-shirt, dark jeans and dark brown loafers. What an enchanting jerk.

Ayen stood behind them, her hands in prayer position, gesturing an apology. That sly smile on her face belied her innocence and made me want to choke her.

"Honey, I thought we agreed that purple isn't going to be the motif for our wedding," a cranky Chad said as he eyed my gown.

Lucas, though, had his head down and was gazing at the floor, possibly counting the strips of cloth scattered around, who knew? Maybe my cleavage bothered him.

"I like the style, hon, not the color," Ayen said defensively as she adjusted the neckline of my dress. Then turning to me she purred, "It looks so great on you, Cara. It shows that awesome yoga body you've been hiding."

"Well, you can pipe down, Chad, because I don't like it," I snapped.

"Glad we're on the same page," Chad retorted.

"How could you both not like it? Are you guys blind? Is Lucas the only one who agrees with me?" asked Ayen, as she gave Lucas a coy, knowing look. My goodness, was he blushing? He looked like he shrank a few inches.

I was gritting my teeth as I sashayed towards the fitting room to change into my capris and blue top. Jeez, I couldn't believe I was in the middle of this.

I went out of the fitting room and absentmindedly went beside Lucas as I watched Ayen sit on the couch pouting, Chad getting measured in front of a three-way mirror, and Lucas on the Ottoman with a magazine in hand. I sat down carefully, minding the gap between us. He fidgeted and cleared his throat as he leafed through the bridal magazine, which, I was certain, he wasn't reading.

"Before I forget," Chad said to Lucas, "I think it's a good idea that you and Cara be paired as secondary sponsors."

Lucas and I howled "What?" at the same time.

"Ten pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen are too many," Chad explained. "And besides, we haven't finalized our list of secondary sponsors yet."

I looked at Ayen for help but she didn't say a word. She was obviously still annoyed at how Chad bossed her around a while ago.

Surprisingly, Lucas didn't say anything, either. He just sat there, looking amused.

"Maybe Ayen has other suggestions," I said, my eyes trained on her.

"Ayen thinks it's a good idea. Right, honey?"

My best friend just shrugged, kept silent and was now on the verge of tears.

Wonderful. I'll be walking down the aisle beside an obnoxious guy.

Chad stepped away from the mirror and approached Ayen. They started arguing in low voices, perhaps about Chad's sudden decision to put me and Lucas in new "wedding roles". I ignored them and grabbed another wedding magazine to read as the assistant called on Lucas.

"Oh my, hijo, you're big," the middle-aged woman remarked.

I glanced up from reading to look at Lucas. He was smiling.

"You mean tall, Manang. I get that a lot."

No, Manang was referring his body, not his height. That form-fitting T-shirt revealed his athletic build. Shoulders strong and broad, butt perfect for modelling high-end jeans. Damn. I noticed I was gawking when I caught Lucas looking at me from the mirror. Crap! I quickly dropped my head down and held up the magazine.

We finished with the measurements and headed to the nearest restaurant for a late lunch. Ayen and Chad were still at it, arguing about the sudden changes to the entourage, leaving the task of ordering to me and Lucas. We waited for them to finish before calling the waiter. Ayen angrily excused herself from the table and left, with a fuming Chad tailing her.

Great, this is going to be fun.

Neither Lucas nor I spoke until I couldn't take it anymore.

"I didn't want to go out on that date, you know," I blurted out as I scanned the menu.

It took a moment for Lucas to respond. I felt him adjust his seat before saying coolly, "Neither did I."

I slammed the menu down on the table. "At least I tried to be nice! You could at least be civil, but instead, you went on with your business as if I wasn't there!"

He was looking at me calmly, his brown eyes showing no hint of remorse. "I don't have to explain anything. You should be thankful I showed up."

My mouth hung open in disbelief.

"You arrogant prick!" I almost shouted. "Just because you're a successful lawyer with a sexy body and great face doesn't mean everyone wants you!"

"Excuse me?" It was Lucas' turn to gasp, taken aback by my physical description of him.

But I was too angry to take it all back. Embarrassed and boiling mad, I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the restaurant.