Meeting Alice's eager, hopeful gaze, Ronan flashed a big grin and spread his hands wide. His tone carried a hint of doting he didn't even notice himself. "I've only got one vote," he said with a shrug.
Translation: I'm in, but you've gotta win over the other three yourself!
Alice got it instantly. She clenched her fists, bouncing in place with a squeal, then darted forward to plant a quick kiss on Ronan's cheek. Spinning around, she faced the other three bandmates, her eyes sparkling with anticipation under the dim yellow light.
Ronan blinked, caught off guard by her move. Is everyone here this bold with their feelings? he wondered, stunned.
Ollie was the first to raise his hand high. "I'm in! Ronan's sister? How could I not back her up?"
"Yay!" Alice cheered, stepping forward to hug Ollie—only to get yanked back mid-move. She stumbled, turned, and saw Ronan's dead-serious face.
"They're all dangerous. Keep your distance," he warned.
"Ronan!" Ollie wailed in protest before Alice could even complain, his dramatic howl so ridiculous she burst into giggles, forgetting to argue.
Then Maxim raised his hand too. "Count me in—but I've got a condition. You've gotta capture my dashing, handsome vibes!" He stroked his chin, tilting it up like he was lost in his own greatness. Whatever he was imagining, his smug look said it all—no one needed to ask.
The group left Maxim to his daydream, their eyes shifting to Cliff in a noisy, expectant wave.
Cliff's brows stayed furrowed, his serious focus showing he was deep in thought. After a pause, he opened his mouth. "I… uh…" He hesitated, glancing at his bandmates, then at Alice. Slowly, his expression softened. "Just one question: you're not gonna snoop on our private stuff, right? Like, in the bathroom?"
One second. Two seconds.
"No."
Ronan answered, sharp and final, cutting off any debate. Every head whipped toward him, jaws dropping like they couldn't believe he'd just shut it down like that.
He'd already laid down the law, but the stares forced him to double down. "No! Never! Not a chance! Absolutely not! Cliff, snap out of it—this isn't a daydream. No! No! NO! That's the final word, got it?"
Silence.
Ollie, Maxim, and Cliff exchanged looks, then erupted together.
"Whoa! Ronan! Ronan! Ronan's got the power!"
"Shut it, all of you!"
"Ronan, since when do you rap? That rhythm and rhyme—top-notch!"
The teasing roared like a flock of ducks doing stand-up. The room buzzed with chaos, and even Alice couldn't hold back her laughter.
Meanwhile, Ronan—the target of it all—felt a little flustered. He still wasn't fully used to this: not to being the big brother, not to the crew's joking style. It'd only been 24 hours since last night, and there was so much to adjust to.
Surprisingly, Alice came to his rescue. "Hey! Hey now! Let's not lump me in with TMZ paparazzi, okay? I'm aiming to be a legendary director here. If I did film you in the bathroom, you should be honored to sacrifice for my art!"
Boom!
Her bold, proud words sparked a wave of laughter—Ronan included.
Watching Alice stand tall, confident and unfazed, Ronan drifted into thought. His mind wandered back to tonight's stage, where that same natural ease shone through. A genuine smile crept into his eyes. No wonder people say focus and passion always look the best.
"Ah!"
Alice's sudden yelp snapped the room's joy to a halt. Laughter stopped cold, worried eyes darting her way, thinking something went wrong. But she just clapped her hands excitedly and blurted, "Since you've all said yes, let's start filming tonight!"
Before anyone could react, she spun around and bolted off.
"What?"
"Wait!"
"So soon?"
"No heads-up?"
"What do we even do?"
For the four One Day Kings guys, being on camera was a total first—like a bride's first ride in a sedan chair. It felt like there should be some prep, a ritual, something—not this sudden shove into the spotlight. They scrambled, totally thrown off.
Their panicked chatter bounced around, but no one had a solid answer—because none of them knew what to do!
So what now?
They each just winged it their own way.
When Alice returned with her camera, the scene she walked into cracked her up—
Cliff sat there, super serious, flipping through a notebook like he was about to jot down deep thoughts. Problem was, the pages were blank. His last-minute cramming act was so obvious it hurt to watch.
Ollie lounged on the couch with a book—Advanced Mathematics, of all things. Where'd he even dig that up? Alice was pretty sure this was the first time she'd ever seen him read.
Wait—where were Maxim and Ronan?
Right then, Maxim hopped out from the bathroom doorway, one leg in a pair of jeans, the other stuck at the crotch. He bounced on one foot—
Hop!
Hop!
Grunting to himself, he wrestled the pants like it was a solo showdown. Then, with a loud thud, he face-planted onto the floor. "I'm fine. Yup, I'm good," he mumbled, sprawled out.
If Alice's eyes weren't lying, Maxim had swapped shirts in that short time too.
She tried so hard not to laugh. The effort nearly made her drop her precious Super 8 camera. Gasping, she clutched it tight, patted her chest, and let out a long, relieved breath.
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