Chris, best man for Tom & Hannah (fictional)
Good evening, everyone. For those who don't know me, I'm Chris, I've been Tom's best mate since we were eleven, which means I've had twenty-two years to prepare this speech and I still wrote it on the train.
I first met Tom on our first day of secondary school, when he confidently told our form tutor that his name was on the register twice because he was "twice the student". It wasn't, and he wasn't, but that mix of total confidence and questionable judgement has defined him ever since. This is, after all, a man who once drove us four hours to a festival with the tickets on the kitchen table. A man who assembled a flat-pack wardrobe and produced a second, smaller wardrobe from the leftover pieces.
And then he met Hannah, and honestly, we noticed the difference before he did. He started turning up on time. He stopped ordering the same thing at every restaurant "in case the new thing was worse". He got... happy. Properly happy, the kind you can't fake in the group chat.
Hannah, I've known him longer than anyone in this room apart from his mum, so believe me when I say: this is the best version of Tom there has ever been, and that's your doing. [PAUSE] Look after him. He can't, and now you've seen the wardrobe story, you know that officially.
Ladies and gentlemen, please stand, raise your glasses, to Tom and Hannah.