This will be a short three chapter oneshot except it won't be a oneshot because it will be three short chapters. So, we'll call it a threeshot. It's just a fun little NYE drabble of sorts.

"Where's Sammy?"

It's the morning of Rosalie's wedding day, and she wants to know where my son is. The same son she snubbed as her ring bearer.

Where is he, huh?

Wouldn't she like to know.

"He's with my mom. He's still mad that you didn't choose him to be the pall bearer."

"Ring bearer…" she says, like I don't actually know what they're called. "...and for the last time, Mugsy is the ring bearer! Sammy's like three. He doesn't even understand."

"He understands perfectly, thank you very much. He can't even look at a ring without crying."

"Shut up."

"Do you know how stupid it is to have a dog carrying your rings? He's going to eat them and then you'll have to dig through his shit like Stifler on American Wedding."

"Bella!"

"I didn't say I hoped it happened."

I hope it happens!

"Still! Don't jinx us. Mugsy is house trained. He doesn't have very many years left with me. I want him to know he's special."

"Buy him doggie treats, then. Dogs love those."

"How would you know, you don't even have a dog?"

"It's common sense!"

"Bella, you're just going to have to get over it. It's done. There's nothing we can do about it now."

She sips her double shot of who knows what, and I drain my mimosa, my eyes doing a scan of the hotel restaurant slash bar.

Rosalie chose to get married on New Years Eve instead of Christmas like she originally had planned. She didn't want to share her special day with Jesus, she had said the night she changed all the plans.

I'm not sure if she meant she didn't want to take away from Jesus' day or if she literally did not want to have to compete with Jesus on her special day.

Who knows! All I know is, it's New Years Eve, and I'm getting wasted if it's the last thing I do.

I'm doing my second eye scan when…

"Holy hell, where was that guy when I was giving my virginity to Elliott Van Gogh?"

Rosalie spits her drink out all over the table, her eyes wider than her legs were in high school. "You gave your virginity to Elliott Van Gogh!" She whisper-yells, but it's still loud enough that the old couple two tables down can hear.

I smile and shake my head and make the universal sign for my friend's a crackhead. I'm not going to explain it. It's universal!

"Keep your voice down," I say, smiling at the couple, nodding my head, like all's well over yonder.

"Bella!" Rose snaps her fingers in my face, and I turn back toward her. "He was such a heartthrob…"

Heartthrob, really?

I never heard of Elliott Van Gogh being a heartthrob. That's news to me. I guess I should have paid more attention to FHS gossip.

"Every girls' panties - well the ones who actually wore them - were wet over him…"

"No, no," I say, shaking my head. I knew something wasn't right. "That was Everett Van Gogh. Elliott's brother. Elliott was the one with the glasses. Freakishly skinny. Captain of the cross country team. A little gummy when he smiled…"

"No," she gasps. "You gave your virginity to Elliott!"

I point my finger at her, giving it a good stern shake. "Don't you dare speak ill of Elliott. He was a very nice boy. Now, tell me who the hell he is." I jab a thumb behind me at the fuckthrob who's standing at the bar.

Rosalie takes a sip of her drink, a long sip before answering. "Oh. That's Emmett's brother. He's bad news, sis."

"What? Why? In what way? Like serial killer bad news or like sells drugs and fucks his way through a room. There's a real difference."

"He smokes."

"Yada yada, who cares!"

"He drinks."

"Blah blah," I say, rolling my eyes and waving a hand pointedly at our drinks spread across the table.

"He's been arrested."

"Who?" Rosalie's third cousin twice removed - Hanana Banana Wannabe Montana - says, making herself all homey at our table.

"Emmett's brother. Edward. He's been arrested. I think."

She doesn't even know.

"Well, I heard that he's like…" she leans in like she's about to give us a juicy secret. "...into guys."

Oh, for the love of…

"That's Evan, you nimwit…" I scold - twat is what I really want to call her, but she's family and all. "...the other brother."

"Oh, right. Who are we talking about then?"

"Edward. Check your three o'clock."

She checks her nine o'clock.

"Your right, Han," Rosalie says a lot nicer than I would have.

"Right about what?"

"Forget it," I say, throwing my hands up, swapping my empty glass for a full one. "Where's Tannah?"

Tannah is Hannah's twin sister. They're a rare case, those two. Their parents are an interracial couple, and Hannah came out like her mother - blonde hair, blue eyes - and Tannah came out like her father - tan skin, brown eyes - and a lot more fun to be around than Hannah.

"She's getting dressed. She'll be down when she's ready."

"We have to be at the salon at 10," Rosalie says, scrolling through her phone. "We all need hair, nails, and make up. No black, Bella."

"Why not! Black would match my dress perfectly."

"It's too goth."

"Fine. I'll get clear then," I say, just to be a pain in the ass.

She ignores me, and Hannah steals one of my mimosas. I guess they were for all of us, but you snooze you lose when you choose to snooze instead of...get your ass down here on time.

I pretend to stretch a kink in my back to see if I can get another look at Emmett's brother, but he's nowhere in sight.

"I just got a text from Emmett. His brother agreed to sing at the wedding," she says, happily and shows us the screen of her phone but turns it back so quick it's not like we could have read what was said anyway.

And sing?

"Evan sings?" Hannah asks.

"No," Rosalie says, her lips wrapped around her straw to take another sip. She's going to be drunk off her ass walking down the aisle if she doesn't give it a rest already. Who knows, maybe Little Mugsy will carry her on the ring pillow or something. "Edward sings."

"What!" I kind of screech. "He sings? Like as a professional or like in a drop a dime in my hat kind of way?"

"Did I not tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He's the lead singer in a band. They're totally up and coming."

For the love of wet panties, is she kidding me!

"Let's see, smokes...check! Drinks...check! Possibly but maybe not got arrested...check! Nowhere in those words did you say he was a famous musician!"

"I forgot, Bella. Calm down."

"What's all the yelling about?" Tannah asks, pulling out the chair next to me.

"What's the band called?"

"I don't know…" she scrunches her nose - a nose I'd like to rip off her face and make her eat. "...The Black Hearts."

The Black Hearts!

"The Black Hearts! You're kidding! I love them! They have a hit single...If I Was Your Slow Love…"

"I've heard that song," Hannah says. "It's okay."

"Shut your whore mouth," I sneer, and her eyes get all big and scared.

Oops.

"Sorry," I mumble, and Tannah laughs.

"We better go," Rosalie says, standing from her chair. "We don't want to be late."

Rosalie and Hannah walk ahead of me and Tannah.

"Where's Sammy?" Tannah asks. "I haven't seen him in ages."

"Shit's crazy today, so I left him with my mom."

"Hey, at least you can let loose and party all night."

She's right.

Totally right.