‹ Prequel: Trouble-Maker
Sequel: Summer Boy

Infinite

New Years Release Party

Falling in Reverse's new album was released December 31st. In the morning, Ronnie and I got up early and got ready for the busy day ahead of us. Not only was there a release party, but we'd paired it with a New Years party at my house in Pasadena, seeing as it was vacant and hardly any use for anything else.

"Are you sure you want to have this here?" Ronnie questioned, adjusting the strap of his tank, "It's going to be a huge mess."

I looked at the man with raised eyebrows and continued to unlock the front door. "You're going to try to hire someone to clean it up anywhere we have it," I reminded him as I stepped into the living room of my house, "Having it here is a better idea. It's bigger and more laid back, plus we already told everyone the address."

Ronnie closed the door behind him and slipped out of his shoes. I took a moment to look around the place. It was the first and only place I ever bought, back when I was working for my father. It was two bedrooms and one bathroom with a living room and a kitchen. While it wasn't very big in size, it was pretty spacious.

"I miss this place," I said as I turned on my heel to look at Ronnie, "I feel like I haven't lived here in so long."

"It's been awhile," he agreed, "Are you glad we didn't sell it?" He dropped down onto the couch and looked over at me as I stood at the edge, glancing into the kitchen entryway beyond the TV.

"Yeah," I told him honestly, "You know I want to be with you, but I don't quite feel ready to give this place up."

Ronnie grinned and raised his eyebrows at me. "Is that because you still enjoy bringing other men here on the weekends?"

I rolled my eyes and sat down on the couch next to him, my side leaning against his. "I'm with you every weekend," I muttered, "I think you would know if I was brining you here to ravage your body."

One of his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight against him as he almost toppled over me. "I don't know," he murmured into my hair, "Maybe my subconscious blocks it out because it's so traumatizing."

I scoffed quietly and tried to push him off of me by pressing my palms against his chest. "Being with me is the highlight of your life," I stated darkly, glaring into his dark eyes as they met mine.

Ronnie pressed a sloppy kiss against the curve of my jaw and dropped back in the seat beside me. "I guess we better get started," he said absently, looking around the open living room, "We've got to get everything set up and then run to the store and get all the shit we need for people to eat and drink."

"I guess," I muttered, drawing out the word. I turned my head at looked at him curtly. "Are you going?" I questioned, motioning for him to get up and start putting things away and setting things up for tonight's party.

He turned his head towards me. "Are you?" he asked, a smirk on his lips.

"It's your release party," I defended, pressing my shoulders into the back of the couch, "Shouldn't you and your band be setting up?"

"It's your New Years Eve party," he replied, "Should you be setting up for that?"

I ignored his comment and got to my feet, my toes pressing into the soft carpet. I walked back over to the door and grabbed the couple bags of New Years decorations that we'd picked up from the party store on the way over.

I pulled out a hat and tossed it at him. "Be festive," I demanded playfully, dumping the rest of the stuff out on the cushion next to him.

He reached across the pile of decorations and pulled on the bottom of my shirt. "Like you?" he asked jokingly.

I smoothed down my favorite of his band's shirts and glared at him. "It's a FIR slash New Years party," I scowled, "We have to decorate for both."

"Does that mean I get to hang Falling in Reverse posters on the walls?" he asked cheekily.

"No, because I don't want any more holes in them." I glanced up at the pictures on the wall. They were mostly of my family and some of the bands that I met. While there wasn't an outrageous number, there were a decent amount scattered around the living room and leading up the stairs.

It seemed weird not to see a single image of Ronnie and I together on the wall. When we had gotten together, it seemed that I hardly spent much time living in my own house. Even though it was much bigger than Ronnie's apartment, I went there to be closer to the city and farther from my family.

In the apartment I'd managed to hang some pictures of everyone we'd come to love. While there weren't as many, they were situated in specific spots that kept them from being the center of attention, but still noticeable.

There were pictures upon pictures of Ronnie and I all over our phones and the internet. Seeing images of ourselves was routine, so not seeing us among the others was strange.

I grabbed Ronnie's party hat and put it on his head as he sat still and unpleased by the change in his appearance."You look adorable," I cooed, running my fingers over his cheek, "Now get up and help me decorate."

It only took an hour or so to hang up the streamers and put away the things that were breakable. After that we set out bowls on the kitchen island and grabbed the keys to the Escalade so we could run to the store and get food items to fill them. We were still debating over whether or not to have alcohol as we pulled out of the driveway and headed to the closest grocery store.

"So do you want to divide and conquer or stick together and work as a team?" I asked as we walked through the sliding doors hand in hand, looking up at him as he squeezed my hand and slightly pulled me towards the snack aisle. "Together then," I mumbled.

I ended up having to go back and get a cart. Ronnie grabbed everything that even looked or sounded slightly appetizing and tossed on top of the growing pile. We split up when it came to getting alcohol. Ronnie ran to the soda section while I went to the alcohol section.

Being completely sober and watching all your friends drink couldn't have been easy for Ronnie. In the beginning of his sobriety he'd put a ban on alcohol being around him, but after just months he felt strong enough to resist it on his own.

In the beginning of our relationship, I had drank in front of him a few times and he never had a problem with it, but I found that with Ronnie sober, drinking seemed even more pointless, even socially.

"Did you get everything?" I questioned when Ronnie and I met back up at aisle eight, a cart full of items that would be gone by morning.

Ronnie grabbed the piece of paper he'd crumpled up and left under three bags of chips. He unfolded it and read off everything we'd written.

"Beer and soda."

"Check," I replied, my eyes scanning over what drinks he'd grabbed from the nonalcoholic section of the store.

"Potato chips, pretzels, those weird mini sandwiches."

"Check, check, check."

After we finished the list we pushed the cart farther up the aisle and began unloading everything as the man in front of us roughly called for his young son and gathered his bags. The woman behind the counter smiled and reached for our first item.

"How are you two doing tonight?" she asked enthusiastically, looking at our bounty with impressed eyes, "Seems like you are having a pretty big party."

I leaned against the checkout, my hands holding me to it. Ronnie was fiddling with the candy shelves so I nodded and answered politely, "A really big one," I corrected and smiled.

"I remember the age of parties," she said, obviously reminiscing about her wild days, "You two enjoy it while it lasts. Before you know it you'll have demanding jobs and four kids who are depending on you not to make them look bad." She glanced at Ronnie as he turned around and grabbed my fingers with his own. "But from the look of it, you two would make pretty cool parents."

"And we already have demanding jobs," Ronnie added with a shrug.

She continued ringing up our items. "It looks like your party days might last a bit longer than mine did. Maybe you'll get a baby sitter every once in awhile instead of opting just to stay home."

I bumped my shoulder against Ronnie's arm and caught his eye. He pushed his fingers through his hair to straighten it out and nodded once. "We'll consider that," he said, "Thanks."

"That'll be $147.96," she read off of the machine, She looked up expectantly as Ronnie pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her his black American Express card. "Thank you, Mr. Radke." She read his name and initials from the bottom of the card before she handed it back. "You both have a good night."

We gathered the bags and set them back in the cart. I pushed it out of the store as Ronnie checked the receipt and slipped his wallet back into his pocket. "Two hours and counting," he muttered as we loaded the bags into the Cadillac.

I grinned at him, more excited about tonight than I had been since we planned it. We hadn't had a party like this in awhile, sure, his birthday party was a large get together, but that was a family and kids party during the daytime.

Tonight was not going to be a child party. Like Ronnie's birthday we'd littered the backyard with tiki torches and hung lights over the porch, but this time alcohol was in the cooler and a mix of rock and pop music was blaring loudly, threatening to annoy the neighbors.

We filled the snack bowls, dumped ice in the cooler, sent out our last RSVP texts, and created separate "Atticus" and "Ronnie" playlists on his iPod.

We were getting ready in the bedroom upstairs when the doorbell rang. Ronnie leaned back so he could catch my eye as I stood halfway hidden by the closet.

"Game time," I said with a grin.

Ronnie finished pulling his fresh shirt of his head and wiggled his eyebrows at me. "See you down there," he replied before he disappeared through the bedroom door and down the stairs to let our guests in.

The music started playing and the sound of Ronnie talking was lost among it. I tied the waist of my dress and glanced at my appearance through the closet mirror with a calculating eye.

My hair was in curls almost as tight as ringlets. I had opted out of donning my favorite FIR shirt all night and decided on my newest dress instead. It was strapless, black and white with a Chevron print, and a tie around the waist. Red and black ankle boots adorned my feet. The shoes had openings where the sides of my feet and toes where visible. The red matched the color of my lips and the black the makeup on my eyes.

As more people poured into my house, I headed downstairs to join them at Ronnie's side.
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Guys, thank you so much for all the comments. I really needed them. I've been in a pretty tough spot so written was/is getting harder and harder. When you comment, it heightens my enthusiasm and makes it easier to focus on something I love.