From Under the Cork Tree

We arrived at the party before the band, but there was already a ton of people there. Pete had put me on the guest list as Angel Face plus one. I had rolled my eyes; the bodyguard had known I was coming, because Pete had specified that my name was Angelus Rush, but I was to be identified as Angel Face. That man was getting under my skin, but I was determined not to let him get to me, or let it show.

Anyway, inside were large burgundy and gold balloons, and on the stereo their album was playing, the album art was on the wall, along with pictures of the band. There were towers of champagne, cupcakes, and little shrimp cocktails. No one seemed to touch them, only the champagne and treats; there was also a cake with the album decorated on it.

It was a strange atmosphere; apparently the album was highly anticipated and their label expected it to go platinum by the end of the year. I thought that was pretty cool, but it was different than anything I had expected, because Bayside wasn't at this level (yet) and I never experienced parties like this when I was with Beatz. I was used to warm beer, stale chips and loud music that you could barely understand the lyrics to.

Rae and I got champagne and mingled with a few people we had met before, and musicians that were friends of the band. I was quiet, I was listening to the songs, I thought they were catchy and kinda cool; the lyrics were really nice, so much different than what I was a fan of. Just as another song started, a rather slow one, it faded and there was claps and cheers. Rae and I looked over and saw that the band was entering; Pete was first, then Joe, Patrick, and lastly a shy looking Andy, whose eyes searched until they landed in our direction. Rae squealed softly beside me, causing me to laugh; Andy looked at us, or rather at Rae, but didn't come over until after saying hello to a few people first.

"Hey," Andy smiled, "I'm glad you could make it."

"We had nothing else better to do," I said.

Rae hummed, "We planned to get drunk and eat cupcakes anyway."

Andy was the only one who noticed we were there; he and I hugged upon greeting, and then he hugged Rae, who was beaming. I smiled too, I was happy that Rae was building something with a new guy; her ex wasn't all that great -downright horrible- but Andy is definitely different. He's quiet and reserved, like Rae herself, and they both were tattooed and spoke softly when they were together. I encouraged a relationship between them, no matter what it'd be. I excuses myself to give them space to talk freely, and went to get another drink.

"Hey Angel Face," I heard Pete say just as I grabbed a fresh glass of champagne.

I turned, facing him, "You aren't funny, you know."

He had that big cocky grin of his, "I am sometimes. You look nice..."

I could see that a genuine side to him was coming out; I appreciated that; "Thank you. This was a gift from Nikki Sixx, actually, your idol."

Pete smirked, "Cool. Was he tryna get your number too?"

"No, he just wanted to give me a gift for almost ending his career."

"The pinkie?"

I nodded, "The pinkie."

"It's nice," he said again, his eyes scanning my body, then up to meet my eyes. "How do you like the party? Is it up to your standards?"

I laughed, "Dude, I've been to basement parties with sweaty people, I'm not used to parties like this."

Pete's brow raised as I took a sip, "Basement parties? Really?"

I nodded, "Yeah...the punk scene down south is where it's at!"

Pete's smile grew into something that resembled the Grinch's; "You're the love of my life. Where have you been my entire life?"

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up."

"I'm serious! All I went to when I was a teenager was basement parties! I lived for hot sweaty nights with my friends and bands."

"Well, that's something we have in common, Pete," I raised my glass, "cheers."

"Cheers," he chuckled.

"You want a drink?" I asked him.

"I can't drink. I'm on meds."

"Oh, you're sick?" I asked curiously.

Pete looked down, shaking his head, his hand came up and rubbed at the back of his neck. I could see he was becoming uncomfortable, which threw me through a loop. Pete uncomfortable? Is this the Twilight Zone?

I touched his shoulder, "They got soda, too."

He looked up as my hand dropped, "that's cool, but I need Redbull."

"That shit is gross," I muttered as I made a face. "It's like kook-aid without sugar!"

His infamous grin was back, "I like gross shit."

I shook my head as he jetted off, heading to the stack of energy drinks a few feet away. He mumbled to himself loudly, grabbing a can; as he returned, the music picked back up, and he popped open his can of Redbull. He took a large gulp before asking, "You like the album?"

I shrugged, taking another sip, "It's okay...from what I've heard so far. It's pretty catchy."

"Would you buy it?" He asked with a cocked brow.

I hummed, "Nope."

Pete chortled, "Shut up! Why not?"

I shrugged, "I dunno...maybe I would; the lyrics are cool...Patrick's pretty talented when it comes to song writing."

Pete snorted this time, "Patrick is talented, but I wrote most of the album."

I narrowed my eyes, "Not-uh...really?"

"Yes really! What did you think I did, just play bass?"

"Well, yeah. You don't...seem like the talented type."

Pete touched his heart, feigning hurt, "Ooh. Ouch, Angel, ya hurt me. Ya ripped my heart out!"

I pouted mockingly, "Oh, I'm sorry! Did I bruise your massive ego as well?"

Pete dropped his hand and laughed, "Yes, you kinda did."

I patted his chest now, over his heart, "I did the world a huge favor."

The look on his face was that of a child witnessing magic -as I would describe. His smile was so big, his eyes twinkled; then he laughed, "I think you're the love of my life."

"In your dreams," I retorted, chugging the rest of my drink. "What is it with you?"

"Me?" He rolled his eyes up, pretending he was thinking deeply, "I'm a romantic. Hopeless romantic, to be honest with you, Angel Face," his eyes met mine, "I'm in love."

"With yourself," I added.

"Yes," he grinned, "and you."

"Get in line," I smirked, "I'm happily taken."

"What do I have to do to steal you away from Holohan?" He tilted his head, "I can buy you nice things, I can write you a love song, and I can take you places you've never heard of."

I huffed, "Pete, if you think that's all a girl needs to want you, then she obviously doesn't love you. I don't want to be given nice things because you think I'm hot, I don't need a song, and I don't want to go to places I've never heard of; hell, any suburb in LA is just fine with me. All I want is a man to love me, and want me for me, and John gives it to me," I gave him a small pout. "You're about 2 years too late."

Pete shrugged, "2 years too late...I can wait until you guys break up."

I was about ready to hit him.

"Your sense of humor is making me want to commit murder," I grabbed another drink.

Pete touched my arm, which I shoved away, "Hey, I'm only joking! Don't take anything I say seriously, Angelus," he was becoming an actual person again. "I'm jokin'...I actually, ya'know, still have a thing with this girl back home."

I cooled off, "Dude, it isn't funny to joke about my relationship like that. It rubbed me the wrong way."

He smiled again, genuinely, "I apologize, really. I didn't mean to offend you, or Beatz. And I'm sorry I slapped your butt without your consent."

I smiled too, I was feeling the buzz of the alcohol come on.

"Okay. I forgive you. Just, you know, you can make fun of me, not John...I really do love him."

Pete nodded, "Yeah, I can tell. I'm happy for you, you're a...uh, cool chick. I was just messin' around."

"It's okay...water under the bridge."

He stuck his hand out, "Friends?"

I shook my head, but took his hand, "Frienemies."