The venues are traditionally white. White cornices spun into intricate patterns on the ceilings, the embellishments painted silver. Even the skirting boards have moulded flowers and vines sprouting from them. Everybody wears white. The guests, the bridesmaids, the best man. All save for the groom and bride themselves. 

Today, that would be my brother in a suit of ink, marrying the love of his life in a dashing dress of grey and sparkling silver. She's beautiful, and I smile as she approaches me, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. 

"Good evening, Jas." Luana greets, a smile on her own face. It's a look she hasn't been able to drop since she took her first step down the aisle. 

"Is it? You don't look very happy." I joke, watching her sapphire eyes roll. Of course our mother would match my brother up with someone with the eyes of the sky. Present my mom with any shade of blue, and she'll fall at your knees. 

"You'll understand one day, when you're old and falling in love." She teases, playing with the tone of her voice. 

I shake my head vehemently. "Not if I'm matched up with them. I get enough of your guys' rich snobbery, I don't need it from random dates too." I say, lying through my shiny white teeth.

Luana laughs, bright and mellow. "You say with that suit on your back. Do you know how much it costs?" She pulls at the lapels of my white jacket, smoothing them out. 

I push her hands away, looking to the side at the crowd of others wearing similar suits to me. Everybody is rich here, to watch the union of two worlds of the same class. The union of our man and their woman.

"Luana, it's been too long! Family members I don't even recognise have kept me away from seeing your beautiful face." My brother bumbles over, clenching the black satin of his dress shirt. An overly dramatic look of pain scrunches up his pale features. His eyes connect with mine, reading my disgusted expression. He frowns. "Don't you dare say it." He warns. 

Luana laughs, drawing my brother's eyes back to her. "Chris, no fighting on our wedding day." She says. I grin in response, eyes staying connected with his. "Save it for after the honeymoon."

"What– Lu!" I cry against my brother's mischievous laughter. 

He pipes down instantly when Luana wraps an arm around his waist, left grinning like the lovesick idiot he is. I'm happy for him, for finding love in this game of status. 

Matchmaking couples based on family prestige is something exciting. It marks the true start to our adult lives, sparking romances and starting families. But, no matter how much I'd yearn for my own romance, I know I could never find the love my brother has. Not with a woman. 

Yet, all I want is to make my parents proud. To match the dazzling light my brother casts.

"Why are you all over here? Go dance!" My mom says, making me jump. Her dress, a brilliant white, wraps snugly around her figure. Black curls were cut short for the occasion, pinned back with snowy flowers. Both Chris and I take after her, height and all. 

"I'd love to! But your cousins, or your aunts, or whoever keep getting in the way! I just want to hold my stunning wife as she laughs." Chris sulks, puppy eyes shifting to the woman by his side. 

I lean closer to Luana, my eyebrows furrowed. "I'm very sorry that you had to marry this."

She hits my arm gently, another soft laugh spilling over her lips. "Okay, stop whining and take my hand." She holds a lace-gloved hand out to my brother. 

They're gone in a flash, shoes tapping against the dance floor. Not that you can hear them over the music: a blend of elegance and old pop hits my brother and I snuck into the playlist. 

My mom laughs, standing by my side. "He might be grown up and married now, but he'll always be the bright eyed kid that would ask for permission just to sneeze, to me." She says fondly, the sparkles of memories floating through her amber eyes.

I roll mine. "He's still that kid full stop."

"Hey, you weren't much different. Anything Chris did, you copied. You'd do anything to be like him."

I still would. Nerves reverberate through my heart as I smile at memories long since passed. I used to annoy the crap out of him for doing that. When I pretended not to be interested, he got upset, rolling in nonexistent rejection. 

"Oh– your dad's found the wine. Sorry, Jasper, I've to go. Relax, enjoy the party!" She says as she hurries away, preparing to wrestle the wine out of my dad's hands. If Chris got his childish dramatics from anyone, it'd be the flushed side of my dad.