Love Story

It all started at YNOT Festival. Sarah was mid-song when a ginger-bearded man appeared to her right, singing directly at her. They’re still debating whether it was Oasis or Bon Jovi.

By the end of the festival Ryan was declaring they’d had their “first date” he paid for her to go down the helter skelter slide. Who said romance was dead?

Their official first date was in Birmingham, where they spent the whole night as the only ones on the dance floor, much to the amusement of strangers who needed to tell Ryan, “Mate, you can’t dance

This turned into a few more Brum meetups, which Ryan claimed was “halfway” until Sarah realised she was doing double the travel time.

Date three? A country music festival. When Sarah said she liked country music, she meant Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5.” She didn’t realise she’d be spending the day with an actual cowboy.

Somewhere between the music and the chocolate churros (which Ryan managed to wear in his beard), he turned to her and said, “I’m going to marry you.” Sarah's reply "you've got chocolate in your beard".

A few dates later, she’d met his friends, his mum, his dad — and in true Angie style (ryans mum) was lecturing Ryan to not screw this up!

In Birmingham again, over what was probably only date 4/5 Ryan asked her to be his girlfriend. A pic from that exact moment. It went something like "u might as well be my Girlfriend.

That summer rolled into December — Lisbon, Christmas in Falmouth by the sea (which Ryan insists was a “Turkey and Tinsel” event, Sarah strongly disagrees).

Then in true plot-twist fashion, in cornwall they announced they were expecting a baby.

Life picked up speed. Ryan moved to Stoke, baby prep began, and at least once a week Ryan would joke, “We’re getting married in Vegas.”

Sarah’s standard reply? In full Beyoncé tone — “If you like it, you better put a ring on it” — so people could save the date.

Then came the baby shower. Everyone thought it was just a celebration for Lane… until Ryan walked in, arms full of flowers, and got down on one knee.

Gobsmacked faces. Tears everywhere and a very clear “Yes.”

Which brings us here — a family of three, ready to share the same name and make it official. Mr. & Mrs. Mulholland-to-be.

The Plan for Vegas? We’re talking neon reds and pinks, just the right amount of tacky, a little bit of glitter in places it shouldn’t be, and that unapologetic Vegas energy.

The kind of wedding where Elvis might photobomb you, the champagne never stops flowing, and the dance floor doesn’t close until someone loses their shoes. (probably Sarah's dad again)

We want you laughing, dancing, and telling stories about this trip for the rest of your lives. So pack your sparkles, your best party spirit. Because this isn’t just a wedding. It’s Vegas.