A wedding and reasonable prospects for a happily-ever-after (because there are infinitely worse things than being twenty years and five months old, caught somewhere between knowing and not knowing, but with the time and space to feel around for a foothold).

Home, a paternal shindig, the laws of motion, beach-going, and mouth-breathers.   

Evelyn, Nethra, Will, Spencer, a fledgling public servant, and a nepo baby walk into a bar. Evelyn decides about the wedding and makes the journey home. Featuring uninhabitable flesh and misogynistic headrests. 

It is a startling thing to receive a wedding invitation when you have only been alive for twenty years and three months–especially amid a mild quarter-life-crisis backdropped by Weezer and relative unemployment.