"Surprise!"
A figure crashed into Ronan's arms and suddenly looked up, pulling a massive goofy face right at him.
Ronan was supposed to jump, right? Nope—he just widened his eyes, froze for a sec, then burst into bright, cheerful laughter.
This wasn't the reaction Alice had in mind. She huffed and mimicked Chucky the killer doll, waving an imaginary dagger in mock outrage. "I worked hard on this surprise! I even fed mosquitoes in the bushes for, like, an hour. And this is your reaction? So disappointing!" she grumbled, not holding back her annoyance.
Ronan blinked, then without warning, he lunged at her with a wild, clawing motion, roaring, "Rawr!"
Alice yelped, "Ahh!"—totally caught off guard, her face a mix of shock and panic.
Then she saw Ronan doubled over laughing and realized she'd been had. Clutching her racing heart, she shot him a look—half mad, half amused.
Before she could strike back, Ronan softened his grin and said gently, "How about I treat you to ice cream?"
"Please! I'm not seven anymore, okay?" Alice snapped, still miffed.
"Chocolate? Or strawberry?" Ronan asked, totally ignoring her protest like it didn't even register.
"…Chocolate, I guess," she muttered, turning back toward the motel. The wind carried her next words: "Two. I want two."
"Deal!" Ronan called back, picking up his phone again—the call still active. "Don't worry, my lips are sealed," he said into it, promising not to spill who tipped him off about Alice.
With that, he hung up and jogged to catch up. "I want chocolate too—don't forget mine!" His clear voice faded into the night breeze.
Alice's big entrance wasn't quite what Ronan had braced for. He'd worried it'd feel stiff or distant, maybe even tense with nerves. But nope—it flowed naturally, no weird vibes at all. There was this easy, relaxed closeness he could feel bubbling under the surface.
This reunion? Not bad at all.
Five minutes later…
Ronan and Alice strolled up, each with an ice cream in hand. Alice also carried a bag of extras, leading the way as they approached the One Day Kings crew.
This clearly wasn't her first rodeo with them. She grinned and held out the bag. "Tonight's midnight snack dessert—on me!"
The real gentleman footing the bill stood behind her, smirking quietly, not about to call out her little white lie.
Ollie rummaged through the bag like a pro, snagging a strawberry one and tearing it open. "Just what tonight was missing—thanks!" Then, curious, he added, "What brought you out here all of a sudden? A few more days, and you might've missed us."
Maxim grabbed an ice cream too. Cliff wasn't interested at first, but Alice nudged him, and he caved.
She turned around. "I'm on a road trip for my graduation project, hunting for inspiration. Originally, I wanted to shoot a documentary about Southern culture, but it's tougher than I thought. I gathered some footage, but the spark just wasn't there. Then I had another idea…"
She paused, her eyes circling the group before landing on Ronan with a slightly sly, pleading smile.
Ronan, mid-ice-cream lick, felt a shiver up his spine. He looked up and caught that grin. Maybe it was his restored sight making everything sharper, or maybe it was that Cooper family vibe, but he swore he saw a glint of mischief in there.
Uh-oh. Bad vibes incoming.
Before he could say anything, Alice spilled her plan. "I thought, why not follow the band's road trip and bar tour? I'm not sure if it'll work, so I came to get your take. If I miss my shot, well, no biggie—guess it wasn't meant to be. So… ta-da!"
That's her angle?!
All three Cooper kids went to UCLA, but they studied different things and took different paths.
Max majored in accounting and landed a gig at PricewaterhouseCoopers—one of the Big Four firms, a global top-tier powerhouse. They're even the ones who tally the Oscars' 6,000 votes every year!
Ronan studied journalism. If he hadn't joined One Day Kings as a musician, he'd probably be a newsroom guy by now.
Unlike Ronan, who stumbled into the arts later, Alice—the youngest—had talent from the jump. Before college, she'd already set her sights high. In 11th grade, she debated between USC's famous film program or UCLA's all-around strength to follow her brothers. She picked UCLA early and stuck with it.
This fall, Alice would hit her senior year. For her graduation project, she'd been hustling over the summer.
Max and Ronan knew about it. And Max probably knew the real reason Alice tracked Ronan down in New Orleans.
"So, you didn't come just to see me? Ugh…" Ronan ignored her sneaky smile, letting out a fake little sigh of woe.
Alice quickly shoved her extra ice cream at him and bumped his shoulder playfully, clearly buttering him up.
A faint smile flickered in Ronan's eyes, but he played it cool, dodging her request. Instead, he tossed out, "What sparked this idea? Our tour's almost over—there's not much left to film."
It sounded like a gripe, but Alice caught the hint. He was giving her an opening to pitch her vision.
The band wasn't just Ronan's call—three other members had a say too. Plus, who knew what their manager thought? Whatever plans the manager had for the band's future might not vibe with cameras tagging along.
Alice scanned the group quick—no manager in sight. She weighed her odds, then made her move.
Handing the bag to Ronan, she gripped her ice cream cone like a mic, straightened up, and strutted to the center of the room. Confidence sparkled in her eyes. This wasn't some "whatever happens" whim—she'd come prepared.