Raised by Ronnie.

† Ryan. †

It was 7pm, a couple of hours before we were due to be onstage, and our tour bus rolled up to the venue. Fans lined the streets, all of them chanting "Falling in Reverse" or "Ronnie." That's how it always was. At first the rest of us got a bit jealous, but we've learned that Ronnie is the main attraction in this band, so now we have sort of just accepted it. I was sitting on the sofa with Derek Jones, Jacky Vincent and Ron Ficcaro, waiting for Ronnie to finish doing his hair and make up. 

"How packed is it?" he called from the bathroom. I jumped up and peered out the window. 

"Really." I called back.

"Out of 10?"

"8"

"Ah shit." The rest of us chuckled and chugged down our beers. We only drank when Ronnie wasn't in the room because he didn't like watching us drink. I smiled a bit as I thought of how much love and respect Ronnie has for all of us. He's known me the longest, since his Escape the Fate days. When he asked me to be in Falling in Reverse I jumped at the chance. He is my best friend, I'd say, and I love him like a brother. He came out of the bathroom, his hair perfectly straight, make up perfectly applied and his shirt in a bunch in his hand. I looked down his chest at his tattoos, and then on his arms. I saw them all the time, but they were art, even though he might not think so. 

"Should we go out?" Derek asked. Ronnie and I shared a look. 

"Yeah, I don't want to be accused of being a murderer." he sighed. Ronnie pulled his shirt over his head, grabbed his red leather jacket and walked out of the bus. Immediately, dozens upon dozens of fans were on him, holding out things for him to sign, taking pictures and touching him everywhere. The rest of us got the same treatment, but not quite at the scale that Ronnie did, though we didn't mind that too much. When we finally got into the venue and backstage, Ronnie flopped onto the sofa, pulled out one of his alcohol suppliments and took a long drink from it. 

"Shit, that croud was rough." he breathed. 

"Out of 10?" I asked, sitting next to him. He smiled crookedly at me. 

"A definite 9." We grinned at each other  before I threw my arm lazily around his neck. He put his drink on the floor and leaned against my chest, his head right over my heart. I stroked his hair softly as we talked. 

"This is going to be a great show, Ryan, I can feel it." he said, and I felt him smile. 

"Yeah, I think they're going to love us." 

At first, the band was a little weird about how Ronnie and I act around each other, but now they've learned that we're just best friends, nothing more. 

"Ryan, I haven't had a drink in months, you know that." 

"Yeah, I know. And I'm really proud of you." 

"Well, if this show goes well...can I drink tonight?" I pulled away and looked at him. 

"Ronnie..."

"No, listen though. This is the last leg of our tour before we go home. I don't want to get smashed, just a bit drunk. Please?" 

I thought for a second. 

"Okay. But I'm going to make sure you don't drink yourself to death." I was only half joking. 

"Thanks Ry." He grinned and hugged me. "How long until we go on?"

"30 minutes." He got up and trudged to the bathroom to re do his hair and make up, and the rest of the band got their instruments and equipment  ready. This show was going to be one of our best.