2025-01-12 - Kids Do the Darndest Things

There’s always a brief lull in the attractions around six. Tourists are dining and drinking, families on their last gasp and adults generally prepping for the wilder hours from seven til close. Tonight is no exception—though vaguely congested, the mountain trail allows plenty of room to move—or just hang out.

That’s what Brandon O’Donnell’s doing—hanging out and waiting. Standing under a lamppost, idly swiping through something or other on his phone, he occasionally glances up to scan the crowd for Ruby. As a concession to the evening, he’s traded in his typical indie-star-in-hiding gear for Doc Martens, weathered jeans and a Manchester United zip-up over a black tee. The usual half-dozen or so bracelets dangle at his left wrist, but while his hair retains its typical stylish lack of styling, for once he’s actually shaved.

Ruby smiles wide and bright as she spots the musician. "Hey!" She beams and doesn't even think before greeting him with a hug. "It's nice now that the holiday crowds have thinned a bit, right?" She says, noting that it's lighter right now. Of course, it was that magical time when most folks ate or got ready for a big night out.

She's dressed casually, wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and a soft pink colored corset-style top with a sweetheart neckline and sheer sleeves accented with Swiss dots that cut off just above her belly button, giving her just a sliver of a midriff. Her blonde was worn down, natural, and just a bit messy after an afternoon of studying for her exam, and her makeup was simple, just a bit of winged eyeliner, blush, and a pink lip. "Were you waiting long?" She was a few minutes late.

The hug, the beaming smile—they bring a warm sparkle to Brandon’s blue eyes, at odds with his scarlet track jacket and so even more startling for it. “Hey! No, not long,” he admits—and kindly enough to be clear that he likely wouldn’t say so if he had.

“You look great,” he adds, in no rush to step back but admiring the look she’s chosen with an honest grin. “Before we get going? I found something I figured you might appreciate.”

Ruby's gaze narrows. Something about his tone suggests that he might have been there longer than he was letting on. She glances at the little gold watch on her wrist; she is nearly 15 minutes late. "Oh," she blushes. "I... I wish I could say that this won't happen again, but this may be my fatal flaw." She was always late. She didn't even really understand how it happened! It was a chronic issue.

"Thanks," she says as she lets her arms fall away. "Oh? I'm a bit nervous. Is this payback for making you wait?" They'd established corndogs are out, right?

"No. It's not payback for anything," Brandon answers, relaxed and comfortable. "I still have to figure your bribe out. This isn't that." He fishes something out of his jacket pocket-- a small chip in a plastic case, held between a thumb and a forefinger.

"I don't see you as a fan. But I'm not dumb enough to pretend you weren't one," he adds with another grin. "That's an old demo outtake. I won't tell you what song it is. You'll have to listen for yourself. But it's yours now. So--"

And he swiftly changes the topic, eyes dancing, "Rides first? Unless you're hungry, Ruby St. James."

"Oh, right," she giggles. "The bribe. I forgot that this was a research mission for you." Not a date. Probably. Was it? She still didn't know and had been sure to keep herself plenty busy since he'd asked her to hang out to avoid hyper-fixating on what would more than likely be a disappointment. He was him.

She smiles and takes the little chip. "Are you sure?" She's trying to keep her cool but this is a serious gift. "Thanks," she wasn't sure she'd give it back even if he asked. Too cool.

When he says her name, that flush of rose is back on her cheeks. "Rides first, unless you want to vomit, Brandon O'Donnell." Come on, was he crazy? "Which one first?"

While he doesn't say anything about the flush on her cheeks, it's clear from his manner that he's pleased the gift pleased her. The line about vomit gets a knowing laugh of agreement, glad to hear his own name back from her, and for an answer when she asks what's first, Brandon wonders aloud, "Well, let's see...."

"They've got the Delve, the Alpine Escape and the Gryphons. You ever been on any of these? I haven't, so I figure we follow Roller Coaster Etiquette and start with the warmup ride, yeah?"

Then he pitches his voice lower, and adds dryly, "Keep in mind, I'm totally taking notes on the Behavior of Blonde Surfer Girls in the Wild. All I have so far is 'Ruby hates corndogs.'"

"I haven't been on Alpine Escape or Gryphones yet. I don't spend much time in the actual park," she admits. She hadn't had the time between school and work to really explore until recently.

"Oh? Is that my box?" She asks, and her amused tone suggests that even if it is, she's not mad about it. "I'm not even that good at surfing." She was better than she thought, but she didn't always place, meaning she was mid in Ruby's books. "Well, what else do you want to know? You already stalked me on YouTube. So weird hanging out with a fan," Ruby tuts, grinning his way as she teases him about being a fan of her.

"Stalked you? I--" The initial faux-indignation at being branded a stalker might contain just a tiny bit of real embarrassment, quickly turning to chagrined amusement as she calls him a fan. "Aw, shit," Brandon grumbles good-naturedly, caught out and apparently loving it. "Yeah, that's totally what I'm going with. C'mon, surfer girl."

Playfully dipping his right shoulder and nudging her in the direction of the supremely-non-vomit-inducing Dwarven Delve ride, Brandon says, "Let's go someplace dark and mysterious. I met this dude last month who insisted some of animatronics are actual actors out to mess with the tourists."

Ruby laughs outright as he plays along with her accusation. "I'm letting People Magazine know you have a type," she jokes. She'd never.

The nudge of his shoulder encourages her feet to move toward the ride. "Sounds good," she smiles, then her brows loft. "Honestly, I'd believe it in a place like this," she admits. "But that's pretty funny. Cruel, but hilarious," and sometimes it was ok to be a little cruel, and this seemed harmless enough.

"Don't you kind of hope they do? We could strike back, y'know. Bring the knights up here," he says, trying the idea out aloud with a light, carefree tone. "Or better yet, send in the manatees. Do manatees have Special Forces? Because I don't think dwarves do."

They reach the queue without much fuss and follow it as it rather rapidly moves forward, into the shadowed cavern with its waiting line of snaking, multiple switchbacks moving quickly with the flow of such light traffic. The ambient light gets lower, messing purposely with the senses as the riders get closer to the carriage itself.

"I did like watching you surf, by the way," Brandon says as they're passing the gate and heading for a two-seater in the carriage. "But where did you call home? Where's your mail go? It can't just be Ruby St. James, The Family Boat, The Ocean, Planet Earth..."

He doesn't notice as a pair of teens behind them start to whisper in hushed tones.

Rubes is all on board until he brings Iggy, Walter, and Gretchen into it. "Oh, no, no, no," she shakes her head. "They would be useless. Just big squishy lugs. They are not battle-ready. If you need an aquatic beast on your side I'll go dolphin mode." It was the best she could offer until they rescued more animals.

The line is decent but not horrible. It helps that they aren't waiting too long in any spot, giving at least the illusion of progress. His questions are valid and ones she's familiar with, as evidenced by her ready to give answers. "I grew up in San Diego. My family still has a house there. When we were traveling, we'd either send deliveries to Amazon boxes or some Marinas have PO Boxes you can utilize. If that didn't work, our subscribers were great with lending us their addresses," she explains. The whispering teens go unnoticed by Ruby as well.

"What about you? World tour? How did you order new socks? Do rockstars even wear socks?" She glances down at her shoes and smiles. "Aw, see! Stars, they're just like us."

Climbing into the carriage as she asks this, Brandon can't help following Ruby's glance to her own feet and laughing. "I wear socks when you figure I'd wear them," he tells her, "which means not in the summer, half the time. Or Australia. Except that time in Melbourne we got roped into a footy game."

He holds out a hand, to assist her climbing in if she'll need it. "Ready for the thrill of our lifetimes?" It's mild sarcasm and they both know it, but the Dwarven Delve was never the point, in and of itself. The ride is filling in and staff are moving up and down the carriage, checking seatbelts.

It's when Ruby takes Brandon's hand to climb into the mine car that the flash goes off. The teenage girl mutters something about the latest phone update, and Ruby just stares, unsure of what exactly to do. The worker instructs her to sit down and makes sure that the lap bar is secure, but her eyes are still on the girls. "I think they just took your picture," she tells Brandon.

Gritting his teeth, Brandon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath... which he forces out slowly between his lips before opening his eyes again. Half-turning toward Ruby as they're securely belted in, he smiles with a flinty determination, the gaze of someone who's definitely not giving up on something.

"I wondered when someone would do that. You okay? This kind of happens around me...."

He's been recognized before, and he accepts it, but there's a hint of concern in his voice.

The carriage lurches forward with the initial motion of the fun-park ride.

Ruby is somewhat distracted. There is at least one more picture taken of them before Ruby moves in closer to Brandon, feeling a little weird about it. "Yeah," she says. "I'm just sorry you have to deal with that." They weren't taking her picture, just his, right? "I guess they're curious what you're up to." She would be, but now she could text him.

As the carriage lurches forward, Ruby lets out a surprised yelp that dissolves into giggles.

The ride moves slowly at first, affording them a few moments still of conversation. The ambient music of the mines is haunting and hollow-sounding, meant to foreshadow the chanting of the make-believe dwarves as they work, but for the moment voices can be kept low and still be audible.

Brandon leans in toward Ruby on his right, cupping his hand around his lips to speak directly into her ear. They're close-- her hair so close he can smell it-- and able to speak without being overheard. "They'll be fine," he laughs. "Let them tell the world we're having fun--"

Just then, as the carriage begins rounding a bend, delighted screams start echoing back from the front of the ride.

Brandon probably picks up on the warm vanilla scent of her shampoo as he leans in. The tone of his voice puts her at ease enough to open her mouth to say something back. Whatever she was going to say was lost to the sound of her delighted screams as they reached the first drop and were thrust into the mines.

Ruby laughs, screaming and squealing through the right. It isn't the biggest thrill ride at the park but offers incredible special effects and animatronics. Throughout, Ruby does look over at Brandon, excited to share this experience with him. It's one of the firsts they get to share given neither had ridden it before.

And Brandon is having fun, letting go and screaming along with Ruby and everyone else. Yeah, it's silly and it's kooky-- especially when one of the animatronics throws a spongy 'rock' that goes sailing over their heads, making the pair in the next car duck-- but that's the point, isn't it?

The carriage whistles around the bend, and during one of those glances Ruby sends his way, Brandon looks back. Meeting her eyes with a delighted smile, a spark of quicksilver life in his glance, his excitement mirrors hers and... it's crazy, isn't it? They pass immediately into a darkened cavern and the ride slows... slows... slows as a dim, purple light begins to glow up ahead.

"This," whispers Brandon to Ruby in mock-terror as the other riders gasp and call out to one another. "This is where the corn dogs are coming for you."

The ride is an absolute delight, and Ruby is having the time of her life. There isn't a moment that she isn't beaming as brightly as one of the illuminated gems the animatronic miners are working for. And somehow, Brandon's laughter drives her own, and her cheeks are sore by the time the ride slows. It's a nice respite in the action, and she leans in to hear his words before they are plunged back into darkness. This drop gets Ruby. Despite the warning, it catches her off guard, and she grabs Brandon's hand and squeezes it tight. Luckily, they seem to survive it.

Her hand finds his in the dark; there's a drop, a plunge, more screams and more-- just, the exhilaration of it all? The maddening, adrenalizing impact of the motion, the back-and-forth play of darkness and light, the music that's tuned so perfectly to amplify every other effect? It pulls them along for the ride, literally and figuratively all at once.

As the car rounds another bend and slows down finally into a straight track and a disembarkation zone, Brandon's still holding Ruby's hand. He turns to look at her before releasing it-- maybe a trifle reluctantly. There's other rides coming, though. They glide slowly to a stop, and he doesn't say a word until they do.

As the car halts, all he can really manage for the moment is to ask her a single, playful question: "How's that for a start, Surfer Girl?"

The mine cart sways as they're propelled along the track, causing omnidirectional movements that added to the surprise and delight of the coaster. When they pull into the disembarkation zone, Ruby's eyes flick down to their hands as Brandon lets go. There is faint disappointment in her eyes, but then the bar is lifting, and they are being pushed out.

"It was amazing! But I'm terrified. They said that one was only a mid-size thrill? I'm not sure I'm man enough for the big thrills," she absolutely was man enough. She could do this. Probably. She might chicken out. "What did you think, Milwaukee?" She teased back, still figuring out what her comeback to Surfer Girl might be.

Something in her eyes as he releases her hand gets noticed, or noted-- he said he'd take notes, right? But then she called him Milwaukee, and Brandon loves it. "What do they say? Fresh coast, best coast?" Crinkling his face, Brandon laughs and then winks. "Nah, that doesn't rhyme. It must have been some other coast. Can't imagine which." He's having fun now, knowing the real saying and knowing she's from San Diego, too.

"But that was awesome,'' Brandon adds then in a belated answer. Glancing up over her shoulder, Brandon grabs both her hands and pulls them together, nodding toward the 'mountains' of the Alpine Escape. "It's cold up there. You ready?"

There is a contagious energy about Brandon. It is in the way his smile reaches his eyes and the cadence of his step as he leads her out of the show building and back into the park. It's gotten a little busier now that the early dinner crowd has returned, but still not how it is at peak hours. Ruby gasps at his butchering of a famous phrase. "You insult me," she sasses, but a smile breaks through. "You're annoying, is actually the truth. I can already tell." She could see past that facade. He knew what he was doing.

Rubes lets him capture her hands and pull her along. "I think so! Would you laugh at me if I said I'm a little nervous?" This one was a bit bigger than the last.

Annoying? By the mischievous grin that lights up his eyes when she says it, Brandon positively embraces the word—because the teasing way she clearly means it delights him as much as anything else tonight.

“No,” he says warmly as he gently pulls her off into the flow of people ascending the trail into the false Alps. “Heaven knows I like laughing with you, Ruby St. James, but never at you.” Flashing her a cheeky wink, fully alive in the moment, he takes a deep breath of the cool air as their path leads upward.

“But really, I hope it’s not too cold for you?” This trail was around 40 degrees earlier in the day, and it’s no warmer now that the sun’s gone down.

Ruby allows him to pull her along, if only for the excuse to keep holding his hand. "I wouldn't blame you if you laughed at me sometimes," she admits through a laugh. "I laugh at myself all the time." How else was she meant to navigate through life as a porpoise when her best friend was a gorgeous mermaid? Life could be so unfair.

The cool air washes over her, and she regrets her outfit choice. It was warmer when she'd gotten dressed, and Spellbound had a way of maintaining more mild temperatures even in January. Her shoulders tense and her free arm wraps around her stomach in an effort to keep her core warm. "No, not too cold at all," she insists. But she's scanning each gift shop they pass for a sweatshirt that won't break the bank.

"Okay," Brandon acquiesces as they move through and with the pulse of the crowd, starting to get a little thicker now as the dinner hour ends and more tourists their age begin appearing, ready for a night out. "If you insist, I can laugh at you-- just not in a mean way," he states, then dryly adds, "I save that for music critics and USC fans."

Glancing aside, he can't help but notice the way Ruby's trying to accommodate the cold. "Hang on," Brandon says, unzipping his scarlet track jacket and shrugging out of it. It leaves him in a black t-shirt but he doesn't seem bothered. "Try this? It's all good."

"Of course not," in a mean way. However, she does grin a little wider at the mention of music critics. "Yes, almost an 8 was iconic," and a running joke throughout the fandom in reference to their initial review by Pitchfork. "Now that I know you, I get it," she teases, eyes sparkling with just a hint of mischief.

She opens her mouth to protest, but he's moving quickly, and before she can conjure a good argument, he's helping her into his jacket. "Thaks," she says. "But if you get cold, you'll say so, right? I can always grab a sweatshirt or something." This was her fault; he shouldn't have to suffer due to her poor planning. The jacket is warm and massive on Ruby's petite frame and smells like him.

"How do I look?" She asks, striking a subtle pose, not really so keen on drawing attention beyond Brandon, but not willing to sacrifice the fun either.

The question hits him like a sledgehammer. There's so many ways, so many words he could draw from to answer her-- he's a songwriter, for crying out loud-- but in this moment Brandon opts for simplicity and honesty. Maybe he should make a joke, but he doesn't, not to that question.

"Beautiful," Brandon says simply.

The word rests there for a heartbeat, maybe two, before he lightens the tension of it by coming back to that damnable Pitchfork review with the return of a playful grin. "But I mean, I'm not even an eight so what do I know?" Pulling a packable black beanie from his back pocket, he pulls it down over his head-- he'll have mad hat-hair tomorrow but tonight, with the black tee and the Docs it's a nice fit. "This'll do. Ready to climb some mountains?"

The answer takes Ruby by surprise, as evidenced by how her gaze falls away and that blush returns to the high points of her cheeks. She had questions about tonight. Was it a date? Were they just hanging out? Was he pitying her? But the more time she spent with Brandon, the more it became apparent that maybe, just maybe, there was the makings of something good just starting to form.

She laughs and reaches for his hand again, lacing their fingers together if he accepts it. "It's true," she giggles. "It's really a shame, I only date 8s and above. So this is..." she lowers her tone. "Charity." She grins.

"Yeah, let's go climb a mountain."

Laughing at the line about charity, he accepts her hand in his with a beaming smile, walking with her up the ascending path again. "For you, Surfer Girl, I'm not accepting that eight," Brandon quips, confident and light-hearted. "I guess I'll need to pay back your charity with interest."

As they walk together, he's clearly enjoying her company. "So we've established that you've been around the globe. Ever been to The Alps? I know they don't have a port, but...?"

It was likely that Brandon already knew that he'd been a 10 in her eyes for a long time. She had squealed at him when they first met. But even she had enough game to keep that not so secret truth close to her chest. She nods confirmation that yes, he'd have to work harder. "It'll be tough, but worth it," she promises. "I've been told i'm an excellent hang, and decent kisser." She couldn't believe she just said that. Was she... flirting? Who had she become?

Ruby sheds the facade and shakes her head no. "I'm not great in the snow," she admits. "What about you? Tell me something I can't google." She says as they approach the entrance.

“Hmmmm.” Brandon gives real thought to the request, then realizes something with a laugh. “I’m a terrible skier,” he admits, smiling sheepishly. “I was even a washout at sledding as a kid. Once I went down a hill headfirst and slammed into a tree. Knocked myself out.”

Shaking his head, smiling wryly at the old story, he admits, “I don’t know if I ever even told anyone at school about that. You are a good hang.”

His eyes are twinkling with a shared mischief when they meet hers. They’re entering the line for the ride now, and he says, “I’ll try and earn a chance to test the second part. How’s that sound?”

"Oh, that explains some things," Ruby teases, flicking his beanie playfully. "Or maybe that was the moment you became a genius," she chuckles.

The experience starts in the line. The walls are decorated with artifacts and easter eggs that play into the theme of the story. Ruby's thumb brushes idly across the back of Brandon's hand, and she smiles a bit bashfully. "We'll see how the night goes, hmm?" If they weren't around so many other people, she might have just gone for it.

Ruby takes in their surroundings, listening to the theme music and the little sound effects that add to the atmosphere. "You know," she says, glancing over at Brandon again. "it's been a while since you've written anything new... at least anything you've shared," she pries gently. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to... But do you ever miss it?"

It's been a long time since Brandon kissed someone and it meant something. A whole lot longer since anyone bopped his head. The latter gets him laughing again, ducking his head away but never dropping her hand.

The question she asks next is a good one, earnest and fair and personal, and even if just a week ago his first instinct might have been to dodge it-- something's shifted. Brandon honors Ruby's question with a soft smile and an answer; he keeps his voice down but leans closer to her ear, making sure she can hear him over the questionable melodies of the piped-in yodeling surrounding them just now.

"All the time," he admits. There's a moment of thought, and then he adds, "That night. On the beach. What you said-- well, I should tell you. I went back there the next night, with my guitar... I didn't play a note. But I think I want to. You kinda... what you said about Ansel."

There's a deep, deep gratitude in the words.

Ruby tilts her head toward him, offering what little privacy she's able to while in line at a theme park. "Is that why you took so long to text me? You were busy writing me a song?" She jests softly, turning her gaze back to him again. Ruby gives his hand a little squeeze. "When you're ready, I'd really like to hear what you wrote." She tells him. "I'm sure Ansel will want to too," if he was there listening.

That from her elicits another soft smile. Brandon hasn't lost his good humor-- far from it! Rather the conversation's turned contemplative, for a moment perhaps but not in an unwelcome way. There's a quiet joy in him now that maybe has always been his, but was hidden that night on the beach.

"When I write something for you," he tells her with a particular use of when, not if, "I promise you'll be the first one to hear it. Unless he really is somewhere nearby, listening. Oh--!"

"I wanted to tell you. His girlfriend called me this morning. She wants to fly out here and bring me his Stratocaster."

It's entirely possible that Ruby St. James is dead, and this is the afterlife. Honestly, all signs point to it being possible. She was basically a mermaid. She was living on a magic island. And, most unbelievably, Brandon O'Donnell was effectively sweeping her off her feet. She is rendered completely silent. Opening her mouth, and failing to produce words. She moves without thinking, shifting onto her toes and brushing her lips against his cheek at the corner of his mouth. She's so swept away that she nearly misses what he says next, as well as the ride op that is asking them how many.

"You can play the Stratocaster during your comeback," she suggests, and flashes that ride up the number 2.

You'd think a guy who's had a Top Five US single and a UK Number One, a guy who was almost married to EMI royalty-- you'd think a guy like that would be too jaded to thrill to the first brush of a sweet girl's lips in line for a rollercoaster somewhere in the Upper Midwest.

And you'd be wrong.

Brandon's moved beyond words for a moment, briefly unable to speak-- just smiling broadly-- but as the worker ushers them into an open-air car of the high-altitude (well, high for Michigan) roller coaster, he slips an arm around her slender shoulders and finally says, "Deal. But--" and now he recovers some of his carefree manner-- "You have to promise to cheer for the good guys."

That last is absolutely a reference to their text chat before the date. He hasn't forgotten.

It's innocent. It wasn't expected. Ruby wasn't even really sure it was meant to be a date when he asked her to hang out tonight, but now it really felt like one, especially as his arm found his way around her body. There is a laugh that breaks free. "Oh, I should have known. It was all about the bribe all along," she giggles, but it's obvious that there is more to it. He looked... different. She nearly pulled up the edges of his beanie to look for elf ears or some other body modification similar to the scales that freckled the high points of her shoulders and lived behind her ears. But the only difference she could really distinguish was his smile. It was was real as far as she could tell, and it made those ones she'd seen on socials so obviously false.

She slides into the ride vehicle and it isn't until the worker starts their safety protocol that Ruby remembers, she's a little nervous about this one.

"If we survive this, food next." She actually sounds concerned.

She's reading him right-- the smile is real. Real might seem relative, here among the faux-Alps and the piped-in yodeling and the snow pumped out by machinery, but the chunk-chunk sound of the carriage moving slowly forward and the vibrations of the car as it creeps down the track, slowly at first-- those are tactile, legitimate, verifiable things they're feeling. Just like his smile.

"You're surviving," Brandon insists, drawing her closer if she'll allow it, the cozy confines of the coaster cab both encouraging it to an extent and forbidding it beyond a certain point. "You're with a knight, remember? I won't let that Yeti hurt you," he laughs--

And then they're climbing. Slowly. One can almost feel the gears grinding as the carriage is pulled slowly up a steep slope. "Okay, this one's a little steep. I got you," he says, less jokingly, glancing over to make sure she's alright.

Ruby nods. She's surviving. Yes. She'll be ok. Brandon's attempts to pull her closer are met with her getting as close as she's able to while still respecting the lap bar. If she could be in his lap, she would be, especially as the coaster click, click, clicked, up the steep incline. "I think this is where I die," she laughs out a sob. She can feel her stomach doing flips, and her jaw clenching, and she is squeezing his hand so hard, he might never play guitar again.

The coaster pauses at the apex of the incline and teeters for an agonizingly long time. Ruby's complexion has gone pale and her eyes look at Brandon wide with regret. After another heartbeat, they are catapulted down the incline and Ruby lets out a blood curtailing scream.

Brandon's screaming too, that sheer rollercoaster exhilaration taking hold and sweeping him along. He holds Ruby close as he can, one arm around her shoulders and her hand in his free hand, the air whipping their faces with windchills well below freezing as the g-forces wreak havoc on their bodies.

The coaster careens with near-Autobahn speed down the hill, then immediately into a curve, whipping around the arc traced atop and about a mountain peak-- diners in the chalet they circle waving mundane waves, grinning mundane grins, and yes-- oh yes, there's Yarble the Yeti with his fixed, goofy grin tossing snowballs that thankfully miss as they whip past him too fast to be hit.

Brandon yells, eyes wide, glancing over at Ruby to again make sure she's alright and that's when-- oh no, really, more? That's when they're sliding down into an Alpine valley, a chorus of Swiss yodelers complete with an animatronic Saint Bernard all serenading them as they rush past.

Ruby has regrets. So, so many regrets. The date had been going so well, and now she was alternating between panicked screams and whimpers because she was trapped on a never ending roller coaster from hell. If she was dead, she had found herself some place dark and terrible and she was praying with all that she had that she wasn't doomed for eternity on this thing. Just when she thinks it's over, the yodelers start to sing their siren call all over again. "I thought that was the end!" She laments, her words getting lost in another series of screams.

By the time this bit is over, Ruby has tucked herself into his side, hiding her face in the crook of his neck just screaming and praying that this isn't the end.

She's always so brave. So composed. So sure of herself. Hell, this was the girl who walked right up to him in the tiki bar and asked if he was dating Scarlett Nash. Brandon never expected her to be beaten down by a rollercoaster-- but that's when Mrs. O'Donnell's boy comes out in full force, and the guy inside the rock singer's suit becomes evident.

He keeps her as close as she wants to be, his strong arm tightening reassuringly around her shoulders as they whip through turns, down declines, and now slowly, incrementally begin crawling up what has to be a final lengthy rise.

"This is it," he whispers over the fading screams and nervous laughter in front and behind them. "You've got this, Surfer Girl." Not I've got you, this time. He's still holding her, yes, but now it's You've got this.

Ruby dares to peak up at him when she hears his voice. Her eyes are glassy, partially due to the roller coasters speed, and partially because she was fearing for her life. But his words help, as does the feel of his arms tightening around her reassuringly and his hand in hers. She nods. "I've got this," she repeats, a faint smile on her lips, because if she can smile through it, maybe she's not dead?

The last length of track is tolerable. There is only one more drop, and Ruby only screams a little and even manages to take in some of the scenery and effects. But the moment that lap bar flings up, so does she.

Even given Ruby’s obvious discontent with the coaster, the speed with which she exits the cab is startling for Brandon, who has to spring to his feet to keep up. In doing so, he bangs a knee on the inside of their compartment and smirks a little at his haste, stepping quickly out and up onto the platform.

“Note to self: No yodeling around Ruby,” he remarks dryly as he falls in beside her. Then more gently, he peers down into her eyes with some concern. “You’re okay,” he says. “You made it. And you never have to do that again. Let’s get that food—and a drink for sure, yeah?”

"I'm fine," she assures him. "You can even yodel, if you feel so inclined," who would she be to decline him of such a... beautiful outlet for his voice. "Thank you. Yeah, I will be keeping my distance from that ride and all others labeled as high thrills," she shudders. "But I made it," she grins, looking a bit too proud of herself considering her pathetic performance. It still counted.

"Yes, I'm starving. Thoughts on heading to Cozy Cottage?" She suggests, ready to get as far away from the Mystic Mountain portion of the park as fast as possible. River Village was more her speed. "After dinner we can go to the fair grounds, maybe duel each other with those little foam swords?" She kids... probably kidding. She might not be kidding.

"I can see where schnitzel and sauerkraut may have lost their charm," Brandon dryly returns, her offer to let him yodel met with a knowing grin and then wisely no-commented-- and no-yodeled, too. He crosses his arms over his chest, for the first time conceding a hint of discomfort to the cold, and admitting, "The Cozy Cottage sounds perfect..."

Between her desire to move on and the chill in the air, it's an easy thing to start moving-- and talk as they walk.

"...and so do foam swords. Have you ever checked out that boutique? Abracadabra or whatever? I hear they rent costumes out for people to watch the jousting in character."

Ruby pinches her thumb and pointer finger together, suggesting they'd lost just a bit of their charm. "Another day," she says, looking at future plans, bold considering how she just behaved.

"Fabricadabra?" Rubes says, then shakes her head. "I haven't been," she shares and then looks over at him, her eyes narrowing skeptically. "Don't start getting ideas." Things were already looking likely that she'd end up front row at his show soon. She wasn't about to do it dressed like Buttercup from The Princess Bride. "I'll let you be the one in tights." She teases playfully.

Brandon puts on his very best Innocent Face when she accuses him of getting ideas. Maybe he already was. Hmmm. It's not particularly convincing. Mock-shuddering at the very thought of wearing tights, Brandon adds, "When my dad was in school, he had to wrestle in tights." The thought makes him shudder again, though this time it's not entirely an act.

"I'm sure you look waaaaay better in leggings than he did," Brandon tells Ruby as they descend the mountain trail toward the Court of Portals some ways down the slope, moving generally against traffic. Occasional dwarves and mocked-up Bavarians in lederhosen move through the crowd seeking photo ops, which the sometime-knight steers them clear of. "But it's cool. It's not like a visiting princess can't wear jeans."

Di laughs at his reaction. "Your poor father," she means that. Tights are uncomfortable. Being a boy in tights in high school? Forget it. High school, what bit of it she did in actual high school, had sucked. Ruby was scrawny with big eyes, big teeth, long limbs, and not a cool bone in her body. It was brutal. To survive it in tights? No thanks. "Probably only because I lack certain equipment," Ruby says, and makes a face. "Not that I want to think about your dad-" She shakes her head. "I'm just going to stop that sentence from finishing."

"Glad to know that the Knight approves of the visiting princess's jeans," she teases. "But maybe... if you help pick my costume... just once... for you..." Because she was a sucker.

"Would you really?" Brandon responds with a note of enthusiasm as their steps carry them out the Mystic Mountain gate and into the hubbub of the Central Court with its throngs of tourists, throbbing music and swirl of lights and holograms. Steering toward the familiar River Village gate, he admits, "I don't know a lot about gowns and jewelry. But I could at least," now he grins, eyes sparkling, "tell you what I think looks good--"

A middle-aged man in a Manchester United kit, well south of sober, is staring at them, and begins making a beeline toward Brandon in his black tee and beanie, and Ruby in Brandon's scarlet track jacket. Breathlessly, the man calls to them in a stage whisper of a thick Texas drawl as if keeping a secret, "David? Victoria?"

"I would," she laughs, seeing the enthusiasm light up his eyes. The Central Court is easily one of Ruby's favorite places in Spellbound. It was the most wild and full of possibilities. You just never knew if you would run into an illusionist, a singer, a Queen, or a knight and the booths were full of little treasures made with astonishing quality given it's still a theme park. "I'm sure that you picked up a thing or two from all those fancy stylists," she says. "I really loved your VMA outfit a few years back," she grins.

Ruby's back is to the man, focusing squarely on Brandon. It isn't until the man is within her personal space that she realizes he's there. Still a bit jumpy from the ride, she whips around and then hops back toward Brandon. "Excuse me?" S

Brandon is about to respond to her comment about the VMAs-- he seems to know exactly what she's referring to-- when the large Texan soccer fan moves into their space.

"David! Don' worry, I won't tell anyone yer here... Victoria," the man says, turning to Ruby after assuring Brandon that he won't spill the beans that David Beckham is apparently in the park. "Y'all haven't aged a day since Spiceworld. Beggin' yer pardon David, I mean," the fellow adds, shrugging toward Brandon with an if-you-know-you-know sort of look. "Can I get a selfie?"

Brandon's caught on to this and is struggling to control the laughter that wants so badly to escape. The best he can do is force it down behind a smirk, winking at Ruby and putting on a mostly-smooth facsimile of a very generalized, almost-London-ish English accent. "Sure mate, c'mon over. Victoria, be a dear and join us would you?"

She can see the laughter in his eyes, even if the drunk Texan hasn't a clue.

Ruby's brow furrows with confusion, and then it clicks. She looks down at her scarlet red sweatshirt with the team logo sewn in. She then looks over at the Texan, and her heart melts a little because it is sweet but so wrong on more than one level. But the laughter is starting to pinch at her cheeks, especially when Brandon opens his mouth.

She considers adding to the bit but opts to keep her mouth shot. 1. Because this poor guy will inevitably show this picture to someone and learn the truth, it felt cruel to lean in too far, and 2. She was sure she'd sound like a lunatic if she tried, and they'd already established that Brandon was the performer and Ruby was the badass soon to be DOCTOR Ruby St. James. She'd stay in her lane.

She doesn't protest and leans in for the picture, flashing a thousand-watt smile. She gives him a little way once he's satisfied and then bursts into a fit of laughter.

"C'mon then Posh, let's see about some puddings or..." The accent falls apart, and Brandon can't help himself anymore. He's laughing again as they move through the Court of Portals, the space growing ever wilder with colors and people and sounds and lights, putting all of those things between them and the poor, intoxicated soccer fan.

In his own voice, Brandon says as they approach the River Village gate, "That was... fun. But no shit, you remember the 2023 VMAs? I still have that shirt somewhere. And the jacket." They pass under the gate and he casually asks, "Want me to wear it next time?"

"Does that happen often?" Rubes asks, still grinning ear to ear. Brandon might be a tad jaded but this was all new for Ruby, and while it was mildly terrifying, she was buzzing. "Something sweet does sound nice," she muses, but they still needed dinner.

Ruby looks at him, like 'Really'? "You say that like it was 2009. 2023 wasn't that long ago, and you and Ansal looked iconic," she says. It was a moment, truly.

She looks at him for a second, her pace slowing to a near stop as she processes what he was doing there. "Seems a bit fancy for most places around here," she says. He'd worn it to an awards show. "Where are you planning to take me?"

Brandon slows as she does, the question giving him pause and making him think. At first, his answer is to extend the joke:

"Well, Miami obviously. Isn't that where the Beckhams live now? And no, I've literally never been mistaken for David Beckham before in my life," he says, tugging the black beanie down a bit as if wondering whether they might be something to that. Then he flashes a playful look at Ruby from under the rolled edge of the hat.

"Where do I take a girl who's literally circled the world? Tell you what..." He crooks a finger. "C'mere? I have an idea but I'll need to whisper it."

The sick thing is, he probably could make a Miami date work with all his fancy celebrity connections. "Don't you think it's a bit soon to be whisking a girl you just met away to another city?" She says, pushing that joke just one step further. She reaches up to tug the edge of his beanie over his eyes playfully, but does step forward so he can tell her his grand idea.

"It totally is," Brandon agrees, slipping his arms around her waist as she tugs his hat down over his eyes. This leaves him staring down into her eyes, if she does stay close, and for a moment that's all he can do. Then his lips quirk in a smile. "But you keep calling me a rockstar. Assuming I earn the chance," he decides, keeping it clear he intends to put the effort in as he touches an index finger to her lips, "maybe sometime soon I oughta act like one."

She stays close, perfectly content as he pulls her to him again, this time without the help of a rollercoaster. "Don't be too much of a rockstar," she tells him. "I kind of like the Milwaukee side of you," it felt like that was the side she was getting to know between when he's getting recognized as himself or David Beckham. She looks up at him when he presses his finger to her lips and is still for a moment before a kid runs into Ruby's leg, and she trips into him.

The Milwaukee side of him. Not for the first time, her words strike a ringing, open chord deep in the singer's musical soul. She can't know it-- well, maybe she can, given what she knew before and that night on the beach-- but the crash? Wendy's betrayal? All the trappings of fame he shed like a second skin? Take those things away and all that was left was who Brandon was, who he is at his core.

That's the part Ruby sees? All of this hits him in a flash, his finger poised on her lips when--

A kid. Why does it always have to be kids? (Well, maybe because they're adorable, even when they're running around with melting ice-cream cones in their hands....)

Contact. A trip. Ruby's falling into him and he has to pull his hand away from her lips or that'll be awkward and--

Yes, he's quick enough to catch her but now Ruby's right up against him, his arms the one thing between her and gravity and he's looking down into her eyes and they're so big and so green, green as the sea she loves and she's beautiful and she sees him and he's there and she's there and it--

He'd be an idiot not to kiss her now.

Brandon O'Donnell might have his moments, but he isn't an idiot-- so that's exactly what he does. His eyes close instinctively. His lips find hers, and then he's kissing the girl who looked past everything she thought she knew and saw the guy beneath it all.

It was funny how quickly Brandon's image in her mind shifted from an untouchable superstar to a boy that made her heart thump and her stomach flutter. Yes, he was him, and even in her wildest dreams, she never dared imagine what it'd be like to have his arms around her, to have his lips on hers.

She hesitates. She even considers running because something inside her knows that this can't possibly be true, and if this was a dream, she wasn't sure she could handle the disappointment when she woke up. But this was also Spellbound, and dreams had a funny way of becoming reality in unexpected ways.

They were in the middle of a theme park, surrounded by a sea of thousands, yet her whole world fit so snuggly in the confines of her arms as the slipped up around him, and she did something crazy, she kissed him back.

Brandon's lived with disappointment, real and deep and wrenching and... it's the farthest thing from his mind. Truth be told, there's nothing on his mind, nothing but her and this moment. The vanilla scent of her hair, the feel of her in his arms, so close, it's heaven really. It feels like forever.

But all forevers end, in this world at least, even with the promise of more to come. And when as if by some unspoken agreement they break and just... exist in that moment, looking into her eyes again, he smiles the most beatific smile he possibly ever could.

"Remind me to thank that kid," Brandon tells Ruby with a sparkle in his eyes that's just for her.