Ben Lazarra || Mistletoe

Ashes’ cover of All I Want for Christmas blasts through the large Hollywood venue that had been transformed into a veritable winter wonderland. An ice skating rink had been assembled, fake snow pumped in for snowball fights, and there was even an ice luge for shots. Slash wandered around the party dressed as a heavy metal Santa — How Kellin had pulled that off, Ben will never understand, but will remain quietly impressed.

Knowing how stingy the label could be, it was a shock that they’d agreed to pay out of pocket for such a lavish affair meant for the crew, but Kellin had insisted, after a completely sold-out North American leg, that the crew deserved a party and fat bonuses.

And for that alone, Ben can’t complain.

What he could complain about was being required to attend the party.

He’s never been a big Christmas fan, having stopped believing in Santa at an early age. It wasn’t that he hated Christmas cheer — he just could do without it and all the emphasis on family. For Ben, it was a reminder that his parents were long dead and his time with his grandfather was limited at best. Not that he’d burden the boys with that — he enjoyed how Mikey still got himself a chocolate advent calendar every year and insisted that every other member have one too. Or the fact that Davey had quite the collection of novelty Christmas sweaters.

But he’d rather be finishing up the needed paperwork for the European leg than watching Zack, in a ridiculous elf costume, convince Mikey that Santa uses Kangaroos to pull his sleigh in Australia. At the same time, Vic recorded the moment for the internet.

Downing the last of his beer, he decides it’s time for him to slip away quietly. Maybe he could get a few hours of work done before he needed to collect his drunk children from the floor. They wouldn’t notice that he’d slipped out, right?

He weaves through the crowds. Doing his best to be nondescript. It’d be fine — they’re all probably three sheets to the wind already and wouldn’t even remember their tour dad wasn’t present. Or so he’d thought.

Because as Ben crosses the courtyard where the make-shift ice skating rink was, he hears a voice from behind him. “Hold it right there, Benji!” Vic and Davey are behind him, dressed in matching Home Alone sweaters that read Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animals. Vic narrows a scowl in his direction, Davey shaking his head in disappointment. “We always knew you were a stick in the mud, but a Grinch too?” Davey asks with a sigh, Vic patting him on the shoulder. “It’s tragic. We know you’re old, Ben, but this is Scrooge levels of old.”

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose — annoyed by the fact that the boys caught him and frustrated that he feels bad about it. “Listen–” But Mikey appears, holding a hand up. “No excuses! We’ve caught you trying to bail on us!” The bleach blonde fakes a tear, wiping his eye as he stares wistfully off into the distance. “Fine — go! Break our hearts!”

Ben sighs, rolling his eyes at the fake dramatics. “I promise — you won’t even know I’m gone,” he reassures the boys. At least Kellin wasn’t here to join in — the last thing he needed was all four of them ganging up on him. The exhausted tour manager takes another step towards the exit, his hands up in surrender. “If you want your shit to get to Brussels, I suggest you let me work.”

When no protests came from the boys, Ben sighed in relief, reaching out to open the heavy door of the massive venue. Maybe they were finally maturing — at least, that’s what he hopes. But as Ben steps towards the door, Kellin’s sharp laugh rings out behind him.

“You activated our Trap, Benjamijn!” Kellin smirks as a spotlight appears on the door. “Did you really think that after almost a decade together, we wouldn’t know you’d try and ghost us tonight?” The cocky lead singer appears between Mikey and Davey, his arms slung across their shoulders. Ben raises an eyebrow in annoyance, staring Kellin down.

“Look up,” Vic smirks, jabbing a painted nail towards the top of the doorframe. There, hanging from the frame was a bundle of green tied with a red ribbon — mistletoe. Ben levels a look that could kill at the men, unable to believe they’re actually adults. “I regret to inform you all that mistletoe requires two people. Because I’m not about to kiss myself.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, turning abruptly to leave before one of them attempts something even stupider, but just as Ben crosses the threshold, his figure collided with someone else's. He stumbles back just so — reaching out to grab the stranger's arm to keep them from falling. “Sorry!” He apologizes gruffly, his annoyance adding a sharp edge to his words. “I wasn’t looking–”

He releases {{poss}}’s arm, intent to move around them and leave when a chant breaks out behind him.

“Kiss {{obj}}! Kiss {{obj}}! Kiss {{obj}}!”

Fuck.