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A New Melody

Eddie Van Halen x Valerie Bertinelli

Chapter Three: A New Melody

The house was quiet, save for the soft rustle of cards being shuffled and dealt on the dining room table. Your brothers had been at it for hours, playing hand after hand of gin rummy, the kind of mindless activity that filled the void of waiting. The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, and you tried not to glance at it for the hundredth time. The waiting was unbearable, and the hope clinging to each passing second felt like a weight pressing on your chest.

And then it happened. The phone rang.

Patrick and David exchanged knowing looks as you scrambled to answer. “Hello?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, casual.

“Val?” The voice on the other end was unmistakable—warm, with a hint of shyness. “It’s Ed.”

A rush of relief and excitement hit you all at once. “Ed! Hi!” Your voice lifted, betraying your attempt at cool.

“Sorry it took me so long to call,” he said, a bit sheepishly. “We’ve been on the move nonstop. I’m in Beaumont, Texas, right now.”

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to sound like you’d been counting the days. “How’s the tour?”

“It’s been good, busy as hell. But, uh, we’re heading to Norman, Oklahoma, in two days for a festival,” he said, his tone shifting. “Do you want to come?”

A smile spread across your face before you even answered. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great,” he said, and you could hear the relief in his voice. “I’ll have a limo pick you up from the airport. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too,” you said softly.

You hung up and turned to find your brothers grinning at you. “Well?” Patrick asked, leaning back in his chair.

Trying to play it cool, you couldn’t hide the excitement bubbling inside. “I’m going to Oklahoma.”

Two days later, you stepped off the plane in Norman, Oklahoma, greeted by a sleek black limousine waiting just outside the terminal. The driver opened the door for you, and you slid into the cool leather interior, feeling a mix of nerves and exhilaration.

The drive to the University of Oklahoma was surreal. The scenery blurred by as your mind raced. When you arrived, the band’s road manager met you at the backstage entrance, draping an all-access pass around your neck.

“Welcome back,” he said with a grin. “Ed’s been talking about you nonstop.”

Your cheeks flushed as he led you through the maze of corridors to where the band was getting ready. The roar of the crowd filtered in from outside, a steady hum of excitement. And then you saw him—Eddie, leaning against a wall, his guitar strapped over his shoulder, adjusting the tuning pegs. His face lit up the moment he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, as if it were just the two of you in the room.

“Hey,” you replied, your heart fluttering.

He stepped closer, his hand grazing yours briefly before pulling you into a quick hug. “You made it.”

“Of course,” you said, smiling up at him. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Before you could say more, the road manager signaled it was time. Ed gave you a quick wink as he adjusted his guitar strap and followed the band toward the stage. You found your spot on the side, where you could see everything.

The show was electric. Van Halen owned the stage, and Eddie was in his element. His fingers danced over the fretboard, pulling out notes that seemed to defy logic. Yet, every time he switched guitars or had a moment to glance your way, he did. There was a new kind of energy in his performance, something raw and vulnerable that made your chest tighten.

Back at the hotel, you sat on the balcony overlooking the quiet streets. The night was warm, the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds. Eddie opened up in a way he hadn’t before, sharing stories about his childhood, his family, and his journey with music.

“My dad was everything,” he said, his voice tinged with reverence. “He taught me to love music, to feel it, you know? He’d sit with me for hours, just playing. I owe everything to him.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his. “He must be so proud of you.”

Eddie smiled, though it was bittersweet. “He is. But my mom… she still thinks this whole rock-and-roll thing is a phase. She’s waiting for me to get a real job.”

You laughed softly. “She’ll come around. How could she not? You’re a rock god, Eddie.”

He shook his head, his grin modest. “I’m just a guy who loves playing guitar.”

The two of you talked until the early hours, your words flowing as easily as the night breeze. Eddie was a mix of contradictions—an undeniable genius on stage, yet shy and introspective in private. It was a combination that drew you in deeper with every passing moment.

As the sky began to lighten, he walked you to your room. “Thanks for coming out here,” he said, his voice low.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied, lingering in the doorway.

For a moment, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, heavy with unspoken feelings. Then he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight, Val.”

“Goodnight, Ed.”

You closed the door, your heart racing, knowing that whatever this was, it was only just beginning.

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A Night To Remember

Eddie Van Halen x Valerie Bertinelli

Chapter Two: A Night to Remember

The address on the napkin led you to a small, unassuming bar tucked away on a side street in Hollywood. From the outside, it didn’t look like much—just a black door beneath a flickering neon sign that read The Riff Room. But the moment you stepped inside, the pulse of rock and roll wrapped around you like a warm, worn leather jacket.

The air was thick with the scent of beer, smoke, and something electric, a hum of energy that lingered after a big show. The dim lighting gave the place a moody, intimate vibe, with walls covered in old concert posters and scrawled messages from musicians who’d passed through. The jukebox in the corner played Led Zeppelin’s “Good Times Bad Times,” its heavy riffs weaving through the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter.

You scanned the room, your heart already beating faster. It didn’t take long to find him. Eddie was at a booth near the back, surrounded by his bandmates, his signature guitar case propped against the wall. He was mid-laugh, his face lit up in a way that felt both magnetic and endearing. His black t-shirt clung to him, still slightly damp from the show, and his hair was tousled like he’d just run his hands through it.

Alex sat beside him, beer in hand, gesturing animatedly as he told a story, his voice carrying over the noise. Across from them, Michael Anthony leaned back with a wide grin, clearly enjoying the banter. And then there was Dave—sprawled out in his seat, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the table in front of him, soaking in the attention like he was born for it.

You hesitated for a moment, suddenly nervous. But before you could second-guess yourself, Eddie looked up and spotted you. His eyes lit up, and he raised a hand, waving you over with a grin that was both mischievous and warm.

“You made it!” he called as you approached, sliding over to make room for you in the booth.

“I figured I’d check out the infamous Riff Room,” you said with a teasing smile, sliding in beside him.

“Well, well,” Dave drawled, his eyes glinting as he leaned forward. “Look what the cat dragged in. You must be Valerie.”

You gave him a polite smile. “And you must be Dave.”

He winked. “Guilty as charged.”

“Don’t mind him,” Alex said, rolling his eyes but grinning. “He’s always like this after a show.”

“Like what?” Dave shot back, mock-offended. “Charming? Charismatic? Devastatingly handsome?”

“Annoying,” Michael quipped, earning a round of laughter from the table.

Eddie leaned closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “They’re not always this wild. Just… most of the time.”

You laughed softly, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease. “It’s good to see you offstage,” you said, turning to him. “You seemed different up there.”

He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping into his smile. “That’s just the show. Offstage, I’m more…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Normal, I guess.”

“You’re not normal,” Alex chimed in, pointing at Eddie with his beer. “You’re a freakin’ genius. Don’t let him fool you,” he added, turning to you. “This guy’s been a guitar wizard since we were kids.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, don’t embarrass me.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. The guys shared stories from the road—some hilarious, some downright insane. You learned about the infamous “brown M&M’s” clause in their contract, the time Dave got locked in a hotel room during a fire drill, and the countless pranks they’d pulled on each other.

At one point, Michael leaned forward, grinning. “So, Val, what’d you think of the show?”

“It was amazing,” you said honestly. “I mean, I’ve seen concerts before, but nothing like that. You guys are something else.”

Eddie’s face lit up at your praise, his eyes sparkling. “Glad you liked it.”

“She was watching you the whole time,” Dave teased, wagging a finger. “Eddie’s got himself a groupie.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Hardly.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Eddie said, his grin widening as he leaned back in the booth.

As the night wore on, the crowd in the bar began to thin out. The jukebox switched to a slower tune, and the energy around the table mellowed. Dave and Alex wandered off to the bar, likely to flirt with the nearest bartenders, while Michael headed outside for some air, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eddie glanced over at you, his expression softening. “Thanks for coming tonight,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the edge of the table. “It’s nice having someone here who’s not… you know, part of the circus.”

You smiled, touched by his sincerity. “I’m glad I came.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that felt more comforting than awkward. You could hear the faint hum of the jukebox, the murmur of voices from the bar, but it all seemed distant, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

“Hey,” Eddie said suddenly, pulling a pen from his pocket. “Can I get your number? You know, in case… in case you ever want to come to another show. Or just… talk.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you took the pen and scrawled your number on a napkin. “Only if you promise to actually call,” you said, handing it back to him.

“I will,” he said, folding the napkin carefully and tucking it into his wallet. “You have my word.”

Before you could respond, Dave’s voice rang out from across the bar. “Eddie! Val! You two sneaking off or what?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Ignore him.”

You laughed, standing up. “I should get going anyway. Early call tomorrow.”

He walked you to the door, the cool night air hitting your skin as you stepped outside. “Goodnight, Valerie,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on yours.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you as you turned and walked away.

As you made your way to your car, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had been the start of something big—something that neither of you fully understood yet, but both of you were ready to explore.

part 3

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eddie: remember before we had kids when we could just lie in bed on a saturday?

chrissy: that’s how we got them.

eddie: why did i have to be so sexy?

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fezco o’neill really said “where did you go? i was starting to miss you.” to lexi howard in the softest most genuine voice ever and i haven’t been the same since.

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People magazine

November 9, 1981

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fez: yo, is this seat free?

random girl, smirking: yeah, you wanna-

fez, walking away with the chair: thanks

fez, to lexi: here, baby, i got you a seat

random girl:

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THE MOST HELLCHEER PHOTO TO EVER EXIST??? OH MY GOD????

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need a 40s fexi fic😭💗

Maude apatow

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Lexi & Fez smiling at or because each other

Requested by anon

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I JUST BOUGHT THE 1980 MAG WITH THIS PHOTO ON THE COVER💗

Valerie Bertinelli

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Valerie Bertinelli

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okay, but have you guys noticed that Eddie has a way of talking or shouting at absolutely everyone? Yet every time he speaks to Chrissy, he uses this really SOFT voice 🥺 I swear to God, his voice changes every time he opens his mouth around her and the way he makes sure she's okay when he gets there and sees her scared! I swear SDHASFKJAOHMYGOOOOOOD! He literally fixed his hair before meeting her in the forest, and his eyes turn so soft around her I'm gonna throw up 😩💖

Two and a half years and I still can't get over it!

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He would absolutely treat her like a princess, and you cannot change my mind

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"So, like, um, I got to do a lot-a thinkin' when I was inside. And I realised there ain't no point not sayin' how you feel when you feel. My grandma used to say that there's a short supply of kindness in the world but I think there be an even shorter supply of time so you shouldn't waste any of it. I love you Lexi and I didn' wanna waste a single second of not lettin' you know that"

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Fexi Moodboard Prompt Idea:

After fezco’s father dies, he inherits his father’s strip club. Where he meets Lexi Howard, who works there as a “dancer.”