At school, several classmates gathered together, excitedly talking about the rumor: "I heard that a stunningly beautiful bride has appeared in the abandoned church at night! Long purple hair, a white wedding dress, holding lavender, sitting under the moonlight like a dream!" Everyone chimed in. Some said she might be a ghost, others thought it sounded too romantic.
He let out a cold laugh. "What nonsense. That's impossible. Who would run to a rundown place like that in the middle of the night wearing a wedding dress? It's obviously made up."
Late at night, he carried an old parcel and quietly slipped out of the house, making his way to the abandoned church. Pushing open the creaking door, moonlight streamed in through the broken windows. He found a corner, knelt down, and untied the parcel.
Inside was a complete set of equipment: cosmetics, a long purple wig, a corset, a lace bra with padding, women's underwear, body padding, a bridal gown, white high heels, a bow hair accessory, a necklace and earrings, and a bouquet of lavender.
He first wrapped himself in the corset, his waist instantly drawn in. He put on the underwear and bra, stuffing in the padding until his chest and hips became rounded and full. Sitting on the stone steps with a small mirror, he began applying makeup: foundation smoothed his skin pale and delicate; light purple eyeshadow was softly blended; eyeliner traced his eyes; false lashes were attached, making his green eyes suddenly bright and captivating. He carefully shaped his brows, brushed on blush, and coated his lips with pink lipstick, smiling with a gentle, shy sweetness.
He put on the purple wig, the long hair falling straight to his waist with slightly curled ends. A large white bow was tied at the crown, decorated with small floral ornaments, with matching flowers pinned among the strands. Then he picked up the wedding dress. Layers of white satin ruffles cascaded down; the off-shoulder short sleeves were trimmed with lace; a bow adorned the neckline; roses were embroidered across the bodice; the waist cinched tight before the skirt flared out in soft volume, reaching the floor. He slowly slipped into it and pulled up the zipper. Under the moonlight, the gown shimmered with a silvery glow, rustling softly with every movement.
Finally, he stepped into the white high heels, the bows on the front tied cutely, the heels clicking crisply against the stone floor. He put on pearl earrings and a floral necklace, picked up the lavender bouquet, and sat on the church steps.
Moonlight illuminated him: purple hair cascading over his shoulders, strands gently stirred by the breeze; green eyes vivid beneath the makeup; soft pink lips; blush warming his cheeks. The wedding dress wrapped around his body, ruffles like clouds, lace edging tracing his arms. The skirt covered his legs, one bent, the other extended, the tip of a high heel slightly lifted. The scent of lavender drifted through the night air.
He closed his eyes, sinking into his fantasy. The groom approached, took his hand, and bent to kiss him lightly, as if church bells were ringing somewhere. In the darkness of night, he quietly savored this secret, beautiful moment.