1984 — Redondo Beach.

The party at Vince Neil’s mansion was already in full swing—neon lights pulsing across the backyard, music blaring through amps, and laughter of groupies echoing off the pool’s surface. Two bands— Mötley Crüe and Hanoi Rocks— had come together to celebrate Hanoi Rocks’s first American tour. It was loud, excessive, and everything you'd expect from the L.A. rock scene.

You were leaning against the balcony railing upstairs, away from the chaos, the warm breeze lifting your hair as you sipped your drink. From the backyard crowd, Razzle— drummer of Hanoi Rocks and your boyfriend of nearly a year— scanned the party like he was looking for someone.

When his eyes found you, his smile widened, that boyish grin that still hit you like a punch in the chest. He weaved his way through fans, friends, and bandmates before jogging up the stairs, cheeks slightly flushed from the heat and whatever burning drink was in his red cup.

“There you are, baby,” he said, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Me and Vince are gonna take a quick ride out to grab more booze. You good here for a bit?”

He gave your hand a squeeze, lingering just a second longer than usual, as if savoring the moment.