Alice stood there, ice cream cone in hand, looking a little goofy. But her eyes, her expression, her whole vibe? Dead serious and dripping with sincerity.
"I want to capture the real state of an indie band," she said.
"Here's the deal: I get that the band's in a tough spot right now—a classic clash of dreams versus reality. Obviously, dreams don't put food on the table. But they're also what keep you going, that spark of courage that makes life feel full of possibilities. Do you pick the safe, predictable office gig, or stick to chasing the wild, free dream? It's a dilemma for everyone."
"There's no right answer."
"Whether you keep pushing or let it go, no one knows if it's the 'correct' choice. Everyone's got their own path."
At first, no one took her seriously—except Ronan. To the others, Alice was just "Ronan's little sis," "another Cooper," "the untouchable friend's sibling." That's all she was. Shaking that label fast? Tough. Actually sitting down to hear out a legit project pitch? Nah, habit had them treating it like a high school science fair—cute, but not serious.
But as Alice kept talking, the mood shifted. Cliff and Maxim sank into the scene she painted, faces dipped low, expressions hidden in shadow, though you could catch a glint of focus. Ollie, meanwhile, gawked at Ronan, his wide eyes practically shouting, "Did you know about this?"
Ronan flicked a glance at Ollie but didn't bite. Instead, he followed Alice's words, letting his thoughts settle quietly.
Alice, totally in tune with the room's vibe, didn't miss a beat. Her ideas flowed smooth and steady, her whole being radiating focus and professionalism. The spark in her eyes? You could see traces of Ronan in her features and energy.
"What I want to show isn't some perfect answer. It's the state of people wrestling with life's dilemmas—anxiety, confusion, doubt, wandering."
"One Day Kings is still hanging in there—still doing the bar tour, still hitting the road. No one knows what happens when it's over, just like no one knows what tomorrow's gig will bring. It's all up in the air."
"Maybe you keep at it, push a little longer, and boom—you're the next Beatles or Nirvana. Or maybe you call it quits, chase a new goal, and carve out something wild in a totally different field—like Mark Zuckerberg with Facebook."
"Who knows?"
She turned to Ronan then, her playful eyes now dead serious, glowing with a light that lit up her whole face.
To Ronan, this Alice felt a little unfamiliar. But past that strangeness? A growing warmth. They'd barely known each other fifteen minutes, and he was already digging the whole "having a sister" thing.
"If you're waiting for me to say what I'm hoping to capture in the end—sorry, I can't tell you. I don't know either. Until I start rolling the camera and recording those real moments, I can't predict it. But I can say this: I want to document this state."
"Not just the state of countless indie bands, but of everyone facing the dreams-versus-reality struggle. Maybe it's lonely, maybe it's free, maybe it's lost, maybe it's thrilling—that unknown? That's my inspiration. I'd be honored to capture it."
"When it's all done, I hope everyone can sit down, watch these clips, and find their own takeaway. You're all under thirty—rising suns, just getting started. That's my rough framework."
She paused, her gaze sweeping the room, landing on Cliff as he looked up.
Cliff spoke, voice tangled with conflict—sharp yet fragile. "So, why us? Because we're nobodies?"
He wasn't even sure himself. Amid the flood of info, he'd lost his footing, unease bubbling up and bursting out.
Ronan's head snapped toward Cliff, his usual gentle look turning fierce.
But Alice didn't flinch. She smiled. "First off, yeah, it's because of Ronan. You're the band I know best. You can ignore my camera and just be yourselves—that's huge. It's where the idea first hit me."
That easy line got Ollie and Maxim grinning.
"Second, it's your situation. You're like me—like millions out there wrestling with dreams and life. We're all at a crossroads, making our calls. Maybe you're me seven years from now. Maybe not."
"The answer? I'll only find it once I start filming."
She winked slyly, giving her pitch one last nudge, then locked eyes with Ronan.
Feeling her stare, Ronan pulled his focus from Cliff. His tension eased a bit as he came back to himself. That's when he noticed his fists—clenched tight at some point, a gut-level reflex he wasn't used to.
That urge to protect her, no questions asked? New. Kinda embarrassing. He needed a sec to process.
Meeting Alice's gaze, he dipped his eyes briefly, flustered, then steadied himself and looked up again.
Her eyes shone with sincerity and a quiet plea. She really wanted him to say yes—not just for her grad project, but to capture his youth, to freeze this chapter of his life on film.
Ronan's eyes flickered. He felt the heat in her words—fiery, alive, not just chasing dreams but loving life itself. That raw, pure passion? So rare, so fragile, easily crushed by harsh reality. He wanted to shield that flame in her, give it everything he had.
They'd just met, but he could already feel the Cooper bond tugging at his heart—no awkwardness, just instinct.
Ronan wasn't used to it—not by a long shot. But this feeling? Not bad at all.