RWRB Oneshots

Fireworks (Pre-relationship, New Year's Eve) 4147w

Alex

It's time once more for the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year's Eve Party.

Technically, the title is the Young America New Year's Eve Gala, or as named by at least one late-night host, the Millennial Correspondents' Dinner. Every year, Alex, June and Nora fill up the East Room on the first floor with three hundred or so of their friends, vague celebrity acquaintances, former hookups, potential political connections, and otherwise notable twenty-something.

Unfortunately for Alex they're still finalising the details of the event. There is still the menu to finalise, Snapchat filter to approve, and Alex finds himself on boxing day holed up in the Social Secretary's office with June. They're going over an endless pile of waivers they've gotten for everyone to sign after last year's fiasco.

Not to mention he's still mourning the Christmas tree.

"Why are you still mourning the Christmas Tree?" Alex pointedly sighs, rolling his eyes even though Henry can't see the action over the phone. "It's a tree."

"It's a symbol." Alex stresses, flicking through the various piles of paper before him.

"Of capitalist consumption?"

"Alright, just because you studied Gatsby." Alex huffs, "Hey, what do you think of Navy, pink and gold... ooor, Sage, pink and gold."

"Please tell me those aren't the colour options."

"What? Why?" Alex can hear the alarm in his voice. "What's wrong with them?"

"It's not necessarily that they're wrong, it's just..." Henry trails off and Alex can't decide if the prince sounds amused or concerned. "Well normally the Royal Event planners have these sort of details decided sooner."

"Well we can't all have Butlers to plan our events." Alex grumbles, growing more bitter at the sound of Henry's laughter.

"That is not what we have butlers for, and the royal family don't have butlers-"

"You have something fancier don't you." Alex states, grinning to himself.

Silence but Alex can hear the prince sigh in defeat. A startled laugh breaks from his chest, unable to hold back his triumphant glee.

"Oh my god you do."

"We have a butler but the technical– traditional– name was the page of the backstairs."

Alex snorts, "That is such an unnecessarily descriptive name."

Henry sighs, "Go back to planning your party."

"Don't need to, Nora and June have it covered. I've learned it's best to just do as they say, act as boots on the ground."

Every year this happens and every year he's surprised by the transformation and the army of ant-workers that create the dance floor, marquee, bar, lights, music system, red carpet photoshoot location and gods know what else.

The party is, officially, a fundraiser. And it generates so much money for charity and so much good PR for the First Family that even his mom approves. Christ even Zahra begrudgingly accepts its presence.

Alex on the other hand wants to love the event.

Well, that's a bit of a lie, he does enjoy partying, the music and lights and dancing, especially when he's drunk enough not to panic at the flashing lights and loud noises. But there's always that god awful overwhelming fireworks display that he dreads every year since he first experienced it.

"So shall I put you down as coming on your lonesome or have you got a plus one?" Alex asks, wincing as he realises that the girls have already sorted out the colour palette and he's actually looking at their update reports rather than issues he has to sort.