#New Year party song | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lonelypond · 2 years ago

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New Year's By The Fire

NicoMaki, Love Live, 2.6K, 1/?

Summary: Nico is invited to the Nishikino New Year's Eve party. Snacks happen.

New Year's Eve By The Fire

Nishikino Maki wasn’t nervous. She’d been trained in the ins and outs and emergencies of hosting since she was old enough to curtsy, smile and point people toward a bathroom. And so many of the guests were familiar faces from two decades of parties, mixed with newer friends like Umi Sonoda and Kotori Minami. Tonight, Yazawa Nico would be added to that list. But Maki wasn’t nervous, her mask had just settled on her nose wrong, hair caught up in fabric knot at the back.

Nico had returned her tuxedo jacket, but Maki didn’t need it. Her Nordstrom’s shopper had messaged about the new Louis Vuitton x Yayoi Kusama arrivals and Maki had rushed to put together an outfit, mixing the Psychedelic Flowers suit with the Painted Dots shirt, the Infinity dots tie and gray beanie, and very kicky black loafers with metallic dots all along the sides. A domino mask to finish off the outfit and Maki was ready for a heist film. The outfit had received compliments from all the early party goers, but as 9 o’clock and Nico’s promised arrival neared, Maki did a quick check. Everything still snapped. Good. Nico seemed to care a lot about fashion. Checking her hat brim roll up in the hall mirror, Maki grinned. And with perfect timing, her phone pinged.

Nico: About to make an entrance. Don’t miss it.

Maki walked up to the door as Nico entered, cropped leather bomber jacket over a pink crinoline skater dress, black tights, pink lace up combat boots, pink knitted hat with a bobble bouncing merrily.

“Maki!” Nico waved, dodging around the crowd clustered at the door. “Wow. Kotori said you were going with the Yayoi Kusama, but damn that looks so much better on you than on the screen. Spin for Nico.”

“You forgot your mask.”

Nico sighed, shaking her head, reaching in to her pocket for a sparkly pink and silver mask, “Nico wanted to make sure you recognized her.”

“Can I take your coat?” Host instincts kicking in.

“Nah, Nico still hasn’t warmed up.” Nico looked around, “You could point Nico to food or something. Do rich people eat at parties?”

“Of course.”

“Nico’s only ever seen you eat pizza and donuts and this doesn’t look like a pizza and donut crowd.”

Maki chuckled, “You’d be surprised.”

“So Nico gets appetizer sized pizzas and donut holes.”

“It would be bruschetta and struffoli, but my parents went with a fish theme.” Maki stopped, to glance down at Nico, “You do like fish? Or I could order that pizza.”

“On New Year’s Eve? Nico doesn’t want to make any enemies in the restaurant business. Caviar it is.”

Maki saw Nico shiver and with a quick hand steered her to the chef’s station, grabbing a plate and filling it with salmon skewers and salmon blini before handing it to Nico.

“Nico approves.” Idly chewing her way up the salmon skewer, Nico drifted through the party, nodding at everyone who glanced her way like she was hosting, not Maki, who just followed in her wake.

“Maki! Nico!” Umi’s voice rang across the room. She and Kotori were talking together near the main Christmas tree, still twinkling with its white and gold lighting and decorating scheme. Both had chosen black dresses, flared at the waist, Umi’s with a hint of blue at the waist and hem; Kotori’s with gold thread striping the bodice. Their masks were black and feathery.

Kotori stepped forward, her hand sliding up Maki’s forearm, “How lovely. Just enough silk.”

Umi’s hand quickly offered itself as an alternative to Maki’s arm. Kotori linked their fingers. “Your tailor did an excellent job. The shoulders are perfect.”

Maki shrugged.

Nico held out a salmon skewer. “I think your chef did better. Try this. The spicing is sublime. Nico wants the recipe.”

Maki leaned forward. She’d been pacing and talking and making sure to complete everything on the list her parents had given her. She didn’t remember what time she’d eaten that morning.

Watching as Maki swallowed eagerly, Nico decided to go back for a second run, “You need food more than Nico does. Be right back.”

“Where’s Honoka?” Maki asked.

“Navy Pier.” Umi chuckled, “Honoka believes New Year's Eve is for making new friends at the largest party you can find while you watch something drop and many things explode colorfully and everything happens at the loudest volume possible.”

Kotori tched, “She likes to wear jeans.”

“Seems like the waste of a chance to dress up.”

“Jeans aren’t bad.” Umi fidgeted with her skirt self consciously.

“Oh no, Umi-dah, on New Year’s, you’re mine.” Kotori wrapped her arm around Umi’s, “You look too delicious not to wrap up in something dashing.”

Maki started to look for Nico, wanting to avoid a blush like the one coloring Umi’s cheeks.

“Maki!” Her mother was suddenly at her side, maskless, “Introduce me to your friends. Are they music majors?”

“Mama, this is Umi Sonoda. We are both in the Film Society.”

Kotori slid forward, her hand almost touching the fabric at Mrs. Nishikino’s hip, “I’m Kotori Minami and that Tadashi Shoji lapel dress is extraordinary.”

Nico had wandered back, carrying a plate piled with dumplings and wonton packets.

“Nico.” Kotori pulled Nico in, “Wouldn’t Eli look so good in something like that, in the confrontation scene, against the city lights?”

Nico tilted her head, considering, handing off the plate to Maki, who watched awkwardly as Nico and Kotori checked out her mother.

“Below the knee instead of floor length and white.” Nico decided.

“No, an even longer train. So it sweeps.” Kotori gestured with her hand. Umi and Maki exchanged a glance, Nico hummed noncommittally, then noticed Maki wasn’t eating and tapped under the plate.

“Nico got that for you. Try the crab rangoons. Another spicing masterpiece.”

Maki’s mother chuckled, “I’m glad you approve of the catering, I’m Maki’s mother.” She extended a hand, which Nico shook.

“Yazawa Nico, theatre major and future EGOT winner. I’m working with your daughter on a indie short.” Nico glanced around, “Thank you for inviting me to this party. Your home is lovely.”

“This movie keeps bringing new friends into Maki’s circle,” Maki’s mama leaned in to her taller daughter, “I’m glad. She’s a bit of a recluse.”

“MAMA!”

“Don’t forget to kiss someone at midnight.” Maki’s mama quickly pecked a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, “I am very glad all of you could attend. If you need anything, I’m sure Maki will take care of you. See you around.”

###

Music. A quintet. Slow music to dance to, jazz, sprightly classical and in this phase of the party, nearing midnight, some interesting arrangements of songs you wouldn’t think could be done by a piano, strings, and a trumpet, but there it was, Taylor Swift’s “Snow On The Beach” capping off a half hour of unexpected pop covers. Umi was holding out her hand for Kotori to join her in the crowd of dancing guests. Nico was singing along, sotto voce, leaning against a bar, wanting a karaoke room so she could do her best performance and let out some of the energy she’d been building up, meeting people, telling them about her upcoming part in Goncharov and the time she was spending developing musical skits for this year’s Waa-Mu show. Nico wasn’t sure where Maki had gone to until she saw her stand up from behind the piano, red hair flying loose, as another woman took over the bench. Nico leaned over, grabbed a bottled sparkling water, lime twisted, and headed toward the pianist, who was on a trajectory out of the room.

“That was an amazing “Snow On The Beach.” Did you do the arrangements?” Nico fell in step next to Maki, wondering where the taller woman was headed to. “I grabbed you a water.”

“Thanks.” Maki twisted off the cap and drank down half as they exited the room, walking down a hall Nico hadn’t been in before. They passed several doors until Maki reached to open one, holding it for Nico. A small room, sectional couch in front of a fireplace, stereo and speakers on the side, with albums underneath, and a mini fridge next to that.

Maki finished the water, dropped it in a box, crouched to pick a couple of albums, stacked them on the record player, and shrugged out of her jacket, rolling up her sleeves. Then she untied her mask. Nico was still in the bomber, but at some point she'd shoved her mask and hat in her pockets. Her dress was sleeveless and the party temperature had been keeping on the chilly side, but in this smaller room, Nico was starting to feel warm.

“Sit.” Maki pointed. “Want a water, juice, might have beer in here.”

“Water’s fine.”

Maki handed Nico a sparkling water, lime twist, and stretched out on the chaise portion of one leg of the sectional.

“You talking about Taylor Swift and noir the other day made me curious so I listened to her albums. Couldn’t get “Snow On The Beach” out of my head. The start is so…ethereal, like if snowflakes were these delicate windchimes.” The stereo started to play that very part. “I skipped.”

“That’s fine.” Nico glanced at the turntable, “Are you a vinyl nerd?”

Maki shrugged, “It’s more aesthetics. I like the weight. And the full sized cover art. It’s a…” Maki considered, “a ritual, sliding the album out of the sleeve, holding it gently, placing it carefully, dropping the needle, hearing the notes lift off the grooves. Music should always be a ritual.”

“Nico gets that.”

“Unless it’s play.” Maki sat up, hands holding what were probably imaginary drumsticks, ready to join in. “That’s better than listening.”

“Nico’s been listening all night. Playing is more fun. Singing is even more fun for Nico.”

Maki, amethyst eyes serious, nodded, “I get that.” She bounced up, pulled the arm back as soon as the song was over, flipped open a panel to reveal a laptop, and started typing, “What do you want to sing. I’ll load up the karaoke track.”

That was easy, Nico thought, stay on theme. “Let’s start at the start.”

Maki glanced over her shoulder, “Meet me at midnight?”

Nico winked and the music started.

“Staring at the ceiling with you Oh, you don't ever say too much And you don't really read into My melancholia

I been under scrutiny (Yeah, oh, yeah) You handle it beautifully (Yeah, oh, yeah) All this shit is new to me (Yeah, oh, yeah)

I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me

Surreal I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal The 1950s shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze”

After “Lavendar Haze”, Maki had queued up “Purple Rain,” which had led to Nico jumping all over the couch while Maki played drums on a cushion to “The Glamorous Life.”

Nico pulled out two bottles of an orange-y juice thing and tossed one to Maki. She’d shed her bomber at the beginning of The Glamorous Life and was warm enough after all the dancing, but she could feel a chill cutting in the air.

“Does the fireplace work?”

“Sure. Are you getting cold?”

“Nico runs hot, but yeah.” Nico flumped on the sectional. Maki was suddenly behind her with an afghan.

“That should help while I get the fire going.”

“What time is it? Don’t you have to get back to the party?”

Maki shook her head, “My parents are used to me disappearing.”

Nico made a mental note. Introvert. Ditches parties.

“You should have a snack stash. For Nico.”

“For Nico?” Maki raised an eyebrow, “Will you be back?”

“‘ ‘s a decent stereo.”

Maki snorted, “It’s the best stereo in Chicago. I put it together myself.”

“Nerd. Nico does like the best though.”

Maki paused, “Did you want to go back to the party? Do the countdown, midnight thing…”

“Nah, it’s nice here. Nico wants a fire, not fireworks.”

“Me too.” Maki muttered, piling kindling, stacking logs, using a long lighter to spark a fire, then stepping back as the flames grew.

“No snack stash?” Nico whined hopefully. “C’mon, be a hostess with the mostess.”

Maki grinned, ‘Give me two minutes.”

Nico snuggled into the corner of the sectional, afghan pulled up around her, watching the flames lick over the logs. The door opened and as Maki stepped in, she heard the party crowd getting louder. Maki had an armful of boxes and bags: cinnamony brown sugar Poptarts and cereal, popcorn, mini cookies.

“Anything pink?”

Maki handed Nico a small container that said Old World Spumoni Gelato, “It’s got black cherries, does that count?”

“Nico can do cherries. Nico can do chocolate. But Nico needs a spoon.”

Maki handed Nico a rectangular shortbread cookie. “Use this. Tastes amazing.” Demonstrating by scraping off the top layer, Maki settled back on the sectional, happily opening a cereal box.

“Did you bring milk?”

Maki pulled two boxes out of her pants pockets.

“You’re too fashionable for an icebox, Nishikino. That’s a crime against those pants.” Nico laughed, scraping her own dose of chocolate cherry pistachio gelato with a shortbread plank.

“We missed midnight.” Maki said, her voice sad, but her eyes twinkling, The fire had begun to warm the room.

“We could fake it.”

“How?”

“Nico can count down from ten.”

“And then?” Maki’s question was hesitant, heavy in the air.

“More gelato and colorful musical segues. Nico’s not done for the night, you just fueled up her sugar tank.” Another cookie, even more gelato curled into a scoop on the end.

“Okay.”

Nico chomped, feeling the cold invigorate her, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!” Throwing off the afghan, Nico jumped up, bouncing and twirling on the sofa, arms thrown upward, shouting, “Happy New Year!!! Happy 2023 Chicago!!!” When she was sure she had Maki’s attention, Nico brought her hand to her mouth and quickly blew a kiss in the redhead’s direction. “There, you can tell your mother you got your kiss.” Nico bowed, amazed at her own performance, and took the orange juice-y thingie to switch for water. She was going to send Maki on a hot chocolate run pretty soon. That gelato was a tasty chill on the roof of her mouth that was not going away.

Maki hung over the back of the couch, watching Nico as she crouched in front of the mini fridge. When Nico glanced over, about to ask something, Maki frowned, curling a twist of hair.

“You okay?”

“Fine. Put on an album you like.”

“Are you ready for a new year full of K-pop?”

“Sure.”

“Can I pull the laptop out?”

“Why?”

“So we can watch the latest Inkigayo episode in front of this cozy fire.”

“Okay. But there’s a screen right here.” Maki pointed to the right of the fire.

“Laptops are cozier.”

“If you say so.”

“Nico does.”

Maki crunched her cereal while Nico set up the laptop between them, leaning in, legs stretched out to the side. The fire had achieved the quiet popping level of burn and Maki stretched out opposite Nico, their shoulders and heads meeting in the middle to watch the screen propped up on pillows.

“Ready? Nico knows this is going to change everything for you.”

Maki settled into a comfortable position. Just when the silence had gotten uncomfortable and Nico was about to hit play, Maki spoke softly, staring into the fire.

“Happy New Year, Nico. Thanks for being here.”

“It's nice here.” Nico said quickly and then the K-pop chatter started.

Not how Nico’s new year’s usually started, with a room full of dancing, yelling, playing and a face warmed with sibling kisses. But tonight, here with Maki, there was something new in the air. And Nico liked it.

A/N: The Week 8 @sapphicfest prompt was "curled by the fire" and I've been missing NicoMaki cozy content so here we are. Hope you enjoy.

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