Chapter 6Ronan
6
Ronan
S omething felt off. Ronan felt an inexplicable sense of uneasiness, like the feeling of stepping into a puddle of water with socks on or the wrong sensation of pouring milk before cereal. Ronan felt completely discombobulated. Sadie had mentioned that Mercury was in retrograde a few days ago. Could a planet affect someone's feelings? He didn't know, but he would take any excuse.
Throughout his career, he had conducted countless interviews, been in life-threatening situations, and interviewed dangerous people who could have your stomach turn with a simple look. But Eden Percy had been the one to throw him completely off his game.
Meeting her last night was a shock, but not in the way he had anticipated. Her beauty, while striking, was only the tip of the iceberg. It was her sharp wit, her sense of humor, and her effortless charm that had left him feeling totally disoriented. And her sass was the cherry on top, creating a combination that was hard to ignore. The image of Eden in that thin tank top and underwear involuntarily flashed in his mind, a dangerous train of thought he knew he needed to steer clear of. No, he didn't watch that sweet ass as she walked back to get dressed because that would be highly inappropriate. So why was it burned on the back of his eyelids when he blinked?
Once the crew had departed, and with a nod of approval from his boss, it was just Eden and him for the remaining eight weeks. No buffer existed between them except for his camera.
This project might be the one that killed him, did him in, caused an early retirement. He should just kiss his retirement savings plan goodbye now.
Ronan watched as Eden peeled the shell of a pistachio nut, then aggressively scribbled something in a notebook as he started setting up his camera. Once he had the settings correct, he moved to sit across from her at the kitchen table. Eden continued writing for a few seconds, then looked up. She offered a sheepish smile, her fingers still dipped in a bowl of pistachios.
"Sorry, inspiration strikes at the worst times," she admitted, extending the bowl of pistachios towards Ronan. "Nut?"
“No thanks,” Ronan politely declined. She was driving him nuts as it was, and no extra nuts were required.
"Suit yourself," Eden shrugged, casually popping another pistachio into her mouth. She seemed entirely at ease, not at all concerned with the state of her retirement savings plans.
"Maybe we could pause the nut-eating and start the interview?" He asked as his lips curled into a small smile.
"Wow, someone hates legumes and jelly beans, I knew there was something dark about you." Eden's eyes sparkled with playful mischief.
"Pretty sure pistachios aren't legumes," Ronan corrected, a smile dancing in his eyes.
"I didn't realize I was being interviewed by an expert on legumes," Eden grinned back at him as she casually pushed the bowl away.
"Well, I am a peanut heir, set to inherit 50 acres of a peanut farm once my dear old uncle passes."
"Really?" Eden's eyes widened slightly.
"No. I don't even know where peanuts come from? A tree? The ground? It's one of the world's mysteries."
Eden snorted slightly. "You know you could just search online,” she suggested, amused.
"Where is the fun in that?" Ronan chuckled nervously. He realized he was spewing nonsense. Something about her made him ramble, the nerves mixing with an odd excitement.
"Speaking of mystery, let's talk about you." Eden's eyebrows lifted in mild amusement, and a small, curious smile played on her lips.
"Alright, Mr. Peanut, unravel my mysteries. What do you want to know?"
Simple. Everything . He wanted to know everything about this enigma. No detail spared, no rock unturned. That might be a bit full-on, though, so he settled on something a little more approachable.
"You said that before your show, Finn makes everyone reveal a secret about themselves. Why don't we do that? Break the ice?"
"Why not? It can't hurt." Eden said with a slight shrug of her shoulder.
"Okay, there's a lot I don't know about you," Ronan said as he leaned back in his chair. He thought about it for a few beats. He needed a question that was personal but not too invasive.
"Let's start with... what was the first song you heard and fell in love with?" A subtle smile graced Eden's lips as she thought about the question.
"I got my first CD from one of my neighbors in my apartment building—Help! by The Beatles," Eden said, her eyes lighting up with nostalgia. "I heard her playing it when I was walking down the hallway, so I knocked on her door and begged her for it. I played that CD a thousand times. My favorite song was 'I've Just Seen a Face.' I’d replay it over and over. I was obsessed with the rhythm and harmonies. I loved it so much, I wanted to make music that made people feel like that." A spark ignited in her eyes as she spoke, and it was clear how deeply passionate she was about music. She fixed her gaze on him, curiosity shining in her eyes. "Well, what about you?"
"Well, I am not nearly as cool as you. I wish I could say Bob Dylan or something edgy, but the first song I remember replaying repeatedly was "Bye Bye Bye by NSYNC." Eden laughed.
"I loved NSYNC, too; the choreography was unmatched," she said with a chuckle. "I tried to learn it every time their music videos came on as a kid." She smiled at the memory.
"What was your childhood like?" Ronan asked, genuinely curious. Eden’s body tensed, and for a brief moment, her posture became rigid. The question clearly hit a nerve. Ronan immediately picked up on it, the way her eyes briefly darted away and her shoulders tightened.
"Eden," Ronan said, leaning forward on his elbows on the dining table, his eyes fixed on hers. "Why did you agree to do this documentary?"
Eden considered his question for a moment, then sighed. "You want the reason my agent wants me to give? Or the real reason?" Ronan raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to be honest.
"Well," Eden began, "This documentary is a chance for me to be honest. I've never opened up about my personal life, childhood, or the breakup. Everything out there about me is just gossip. Rumors are all people seem to care about, and I think it's time to speak the truth. I owe it to my fans, but most of all, I owe it to myself." Her voice was determined.
He figured she was finally ready to take control of her own narrative, and he got why. It had to be frustrating—having thousands, maybe millions, of people making assumptions about you based on lies and half-truths. He was all for showcasing the truth and giving people a chance to express it.
"You mentioned your fans. Why do you feel a responsibility to them?" Ronan inquired.
"I think any person with any type of fame has a responsibility and I've been given an opportunity with this project. This project is a chance for me to share more, and I hope that sharing my story will help people somehow. I've struggled throughout my life with mental health. Doing this could let someone out there know they're not alone in whatever they're going through... that things can get better. "
Ronan nodded, understanding the weight of her words. "Do you find it frustrating, though, dealing with that side of your career? People making assumptions about you?" he asked, probing a bit deeper.
"There are a lot of things I find frustrating about this industry," she began, her voice carrying a hint of that frustration. "The focus on an artist's image and marketability can sometimes overshadow their musical talent. Exploitation of new artists, of minorities, of women. I can speak from experience that people in this industry consistently silence women. If a woman speaks up or retaliates, she's a bitch. If she's quiet, she's boring. If she's confident in her body, she's a slut. There is no winning. There is no way to please everyone. So, I've learned to just be who I am. If people like it, great. If not, that's okay too."
Ronan listened intently, realizing the depth of the issues she had faced. He felt a wave of respect for her for being candid about how broken the music industry was. He knew coming forward about this topic could backfire on her because that was how this industry worked. The music industry hated dealing with bad press, but she seemed unaffected.
Eden leaned forward, her eyes revealing a deep curiosity.
"I know you're a distinguished journalist. I've seen your work. It's unbelievably raw and gritty. How did you end up here? Big demotion?" Eden said with a chuckle, her gaze fixed on Ronan.
"That is a long story, something to be unpacked later," Ronan replied, a hint of sadness tugging at the corners of his smile.
"Mysterious. We can't both be enigmas, or nothing will be said in this documentary," she teased.
Ronan raised an eyebrow. "You realize this documentary is about you, right?"
A playful smile crept onto Eden's lips as she leaned closer. "You seriously thought I would just let you interrogate me without returning the favor? I'll cut you some slack, Murphy, considering we're just getting started, and you don't know me all that well. But mark my words, I fully intend to unravel everything about you."
Ronan couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness swirling in his chest. He was genuinely looking forward to learning more about her, but he wasn't used to delving into his own feelings. It seemed like the only way this documentary was happening was if he also became the interview subject.
"Just don't fall in love with me," she said with a mischievous smile. And that was when his heart stopped for a moment.
She had a way of keeping him on his toes, blurring the lines between work and personal interest. He just hoped he could keep things professional between them, but as he gazed at her stunning face and easy smile, he couldn't ignore the doubt that it might prove nearly impossible.
"Of course not," he said back with a slight frown. He was nothing if not professional.