Alex did not want to be at the mall.
She had precisely one objective: buy new bookmarks. That's it. No browsing, no extended family reunions, no loud food courts or wandering siblings. Just in, out, and done.
So of course, the universe decided to make it a full-family affair.
"Alex, try to look less like you're being marched to your execution," Claire chirped, adjusting her sunglasses as they stepped into the air-conditioned glow of Westfield Center. "We're spending family time together. It's supposed to be fun."
"For who?" Alex muttered, hugging her bag closer.
Haley was already texting at lightning speed, her other hand adjusting her curls like she was waiting for a spotlight. Luke was bouncing ahead, trying to find the store with that new VR demo. Phil—who had somehow convinced everyone to call him "Fun Dad" for the day—was enthusiastically mapping their route like they were on a jungle expedition.
"It's a mall, Dad. Not a safari," Alex deadpanned.
"Every mall has hidden treasure, Alex. Today, it's 30% off hiking socks!" he announced, holding up a flyer. "And somewhere, probably… a secret Dippin' Dots stand."
She sighed and glanced at her list again. Three bookmarks. Maybe a gel pen. Out.
They'd barely made it to the first floor when Claire stopped mid-step, eyes lighting up. "Oh look, there's Mitch and Cam!"
Sure enough, Mitchell and Cameron were walking toward them with little Lily between them, holding both their hands. Cameron was already waving excitedly.
"Look at this! One big Pritchett-Dunphy-Tucker outing!" he declared.
"Just what I needed," Alex whispered under her breath.
"Hi, sweetie!" Cam hugged Claire and leaned over to ruffle Luke's hair. "Mitchell needed new cufflinks but I dragged them into Sephora. Lily got a glitter highlighter!"
Lily nodded solemnly. "It looks like space."
"Why are you here?" Haley asked Mitchell, giving him a fake gasp. "I thought you were allergic to retail."
"I'm here to judge people silently while drinking iced coffee," he replied flatly.
"Oh my God, same," Alex said before she could stop herself.
And then, just to fully complete the sitcom-level family encounter, Jay, Gloria, Manny, and baby Joe appeared from the escalator.
"Claire, why are you always in the mall?" Jay said as he approached.
"I could ask you the same thing," she retorted.
"We came to get Joe some shoes. He grows every day like a—how do you say?—mutant potato," Gloria said, kissing Claire's cheeks.
"I wrote an essay on mutant potatoes once," Alex muttered.
"Of course you did," said Manny, adjusting his blazer like he was about to recite Byron in the food court. "Have you all had lunch? I know a little French bistro—"
"Nooo," Cameron interrupted dramatically. "I have the perfect idea. There's this new place here, The Lux. It's a coffee lounge-slash-restaurant, live music, cozy lighting, excellent mushroom risotto, and vibes."
Claire raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of hyphens for one place."
"They even have a band that plays music from all eras," Cam added. "Last week they went from Fleetwood Mac to Dua Lipa in five minutes."
Luke lit up. "Do they do Imagine Dragons?"
"No, they do actual dragons," Alex said dryly.
Still, they all agreed, and somehow, just like that, she found herself walking toward The Lux—a sleek, open-space venue tucked beside the bookstore and Apple store, full of potted plants, ambient jazz, and soft, copper lighting. The kind of place where couples went on dates and writers scribbled in overpriced leather journals.
The kind of place Alex would have loved… if she wasn't surrounded by her entire family.
They settled around a long table at The Lux, the sleek new restaurant-lounge nestled in the heart of the mall. The place felt like it was built for moodiness: dark wooden panels, soft lighting that flickered like candlelight, green vines curling from hanging pots above, and in the corner, a velvet-curtained stage with a vintage microphone and a glossy baby grand piano waiting in silence.
Alex found herself feeling just a little impressed—and annoyed that she was impressed.
As everyone else debated drinks and appetizers, she tried to sink into the plush seat and enjoy the temporary lull in family chaos. She scanned the room, letting the cozy, jazzy ambiance settle in her chest.
Then the lights dimmed.
A spotlight swept across the room as a girl with a mic and a mischievous grin stepped onto the stage. She adjusted the mic stand and said, her voice bright and teasing:
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to The Lux. Tonight, we've got a very special performance. He's charming, he's devilishly handsome—his words, not mine—and you may know him as the boy your daughters are probably writing poems about…"
A few guests chuckled. Alex furrowed her brows.
"…please make a warm, burning-hot welcome for our very own Lucifer Morningstar!"
Cheers erupted. The velvet curtain slid open.
And Alex's breath caught.
Sitting at the piano, lit in soft golden glow, was Jasper Allister.
His hair slightly tousled, he wore a crisp white shirt with two buttons undone, the collar loose and teasing, sleeves rolled up just enough to show lean forearms. A sleek black blazer hugged his shoulders, paired with fitted black pants. He looked like he walked out of a movie or a dark academia daydream.
Alex blinked, sure her brain short-circuited.
"What the hell…" she whispered.
"Oh my," Claire murmured beside her, impressed. "Who's that?"
"That's… that's my classmate," Alex managed.
"Since when do your classmates look like this?" Haley asked, not bothering to hide the interest in her voice.
"He calls himself Lucifer Morningstar?" Luke asked, eyes wide.
And just like that, Jasper smirked.
His fingers touched the keys gently, almost reverently, before breaking into the slow, pulsing intro of Sinnerman.
Then he began to sing, voice velvet-smooth, smoky and low:
"Oh, Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?
Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?
Where you gonna run to?
All along them days…"
The room seemed to hold its breath.
Even Haley had stopped mid-selfie.
"Well, I run to the rock, please hide me,
I run to the rock, please hide me,
I run to the rock, please hide me,
All along them days…"
His voice deepened as the piano thundered beneath his fingers. Emotion bled from every note.
"But the rock cried out, I can't hide you,
The rock cried out, I can't hide you,
The rock cried out, I ain' gonna hide you,
All along them days…"
Alex watched, almost hypnotized. He wasn't just singing. He was confessing. Or performing a prayer disguised as a rebellion.
"So I run to the Devil, he was waitin',
I run to the Devil, he was waitin',
I run to the Devil, he was waitin',
All along them days…"
He leaned into the keys, chords crashing like thunder, and then came the cry—wild, raw, commanding:
"And I cried—
Power!
Power!"
His voice was a flame now, alive and burning:
"Bring down the power, Lord!
Bring down the power, Lord!
Oh, Lordy Lordy Lord…"
He looked up from the piano, gaze locked onto Alex, and grinned as he sang:
"Bring down—
Power to the Lord!"
And with that final declaration, the song soared into its feverish crescendo before stopping—suddenly and perfectly—on the last note.
The silence that followed was thunderous.
Then the crowd erupted. People clapped, whistled, even stood in applause. Cameron had tears in his eyes. Claire blinked as if she'd just watched a religious experience.
And Alex?
Alex couldn't move.
Jasper stood, gave a slight bow, and took the mic for just a moment.
"Thank you," he said smoothly, eyes still never leaving hers. "I do hope the chemistry was mutual."
Then, with a roguish grin, he added under his breath into the mic, just loud enough for the front row—and Alex—to hear:
"Still cute, by the way."
The lights dimmed again as he exited backstage.
Alex blinked once. Then again.
"I'm gonna kill him," she muttered.
But her ears were still ringing with the song—and somewhere deep inside, something had definitely shifted.