Lizzy and I almost met a few times before we actually did. We both went to the same summer camp in high school...during different sessions. We both got into NYU, our dream university …but I didn’t earn acceptance into the film program I had my eyes set on. Luckily for us, when we finally met as adults in Los Angeles, it was the right time. For our first date, I took Lizzy to a hole-in-the-wall taco shop downtown named La Reyna. I planned to impress her with this small local gem and then transition the night afterward to Angel City Brewery, a craft beer haven about half a mile away - easily walkable for the hip Angeleno I wanted to present myself as. Only problem? I had been an Angeleno for just a year at this point, I didn’t actually live downtown, and my sense of direction was not as strong as I bragged.. It took nearly half an hour of wandering around a suspect part of town in confident aimlessness before I finally had to swallow my ego, admit defeat, and pull up Google Maps. Later, Lizzy would admit that she almost called a cab three times to end the night early and probably never talk to me again. But luckily, she gave it chance. We made it to the brewery and turned a competitive game of Connect4 into "truth or dare," easing the tension with embarrassing stories from our childhoods. I even salvaged the night and won a kiss at the end (Lizzy claims she let me win, but I don’t believe her). Little did we know, this was the last kiss either of us would share with anyone else. Our love story was not immediate - because neither of us was really looking at the time. In fact, for months, we’d both tell our friends that we feared the other was more into us than vice versa, and felt secretly guilty about it. But even if we were determined to play it cool, we liked hanging out with each other. A lot. We had fun. We made each other laugh. It was, frankly, easy. In fact, we didn’t even use the words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” until I was forced to identify myself to Ski Patrol after Lizzy dislocated her shoulder five minutes into her first and only foray onto the slopes with me. This was, of course, less than four hours after I had promised Lizzy’s best friends that I wouldn’t “break” her. They would later tell me that Lizzy never would have tried skiing in the first place if she didn’t secretly like me more than she realized. But if that unfortunate ski trip broke anything down, it was whatever barriers we had left. I’d spend the next week at Lizzy’s apartment helping her with her recovery, even brushing her hair for her in the mornings. After that, it was all but set. The first “I love you”s dropped a couple months later. After two more years we moved into an apartment together. We rescued our beloved dog from a shelter and named her after Lizzy’s favorite movie. We celebrated birthdays and attended weddings together. We formed silly traditions and ate our way through every burger and pasta spot across the city we could find. We endured a pandemic cooped up in our apartment for months with nothing but each other’s company and an extensive backlog of old movies to cross off our lists. After five years together, we capped off 2021 in the best possible way. I surprised Lizzy with a proposal in New York City while she was on a work trip, and we closed on a house together in a span of three weeks. Our future together was clearer than ever…though if you ask us, we’d concede we probably could’ve seen it coming as far back as that day on the slopes. Our love story is not one that would be typically scripted by Hollywood, but it is colored in our mutual adoration for the city and the entertainment it produces. We’re excited to welcome you to our favorite city on earth and celebrate our love at a historic studio that not only represents one of the core pillars our relationship has been built upon, but is most importantly a factory of joy and imagination - two things we plan to foster in every day of our marriage.