The drive back from Santa Monica felt quieter than the rest of the night.
Not awkward.
Just slower.
The kind of silence that naturally came after a really good evening neither person wanted to end too quickly.
The Skyline rolled smoothly through the nearly empty Los Angeles streets while soft music played quietly through the speakers.
Natalie rested her head lightly against the seat.
"You know," she said eventually, "for someone constantly described online as terrifying… you're actually surprisingly normal."
Donovan glanced at her briefly.
"That might be the nicest insult I've ever received."
"I try my best."
He smirked faintly.
A few moments later, the car finally stopped outside her dorm building.
The campus was mostly quiet now.
Only a few students wandered between buildings beneath the dim yellow lights.
Natalie slowly unbuckled her seatbelt.
Neither of them moved immediately after that.
Then she looked at him.
"So…" she said carefully. "Do we pretend this was just two co-stars hanging out?"
Donovan leaned slightly against the steering wheel.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"Whether you want another fake not-date later."
Natalie stared at him for two seconds.
Then laughed softly while shaking her head.
"You are unbelievably smug sometimes."
"I learned from Padmé."
"That line was terrible."
"And yet you're smiling."
Natalie rolled her eyes again, but she couldn't really argue with that.
She reached for the door handle.
Then paused.
"Oh, and Donovan?"
"Hm?"
"If paparazzi somehow find out about this…"
She smiled mischievously.
"…I'm blaming you completely."
Then she stepped out of the car before he could answer.
Donovan watched her walk toward the dorm entrance for a few quiet seconds.
Right before she disappeared inside, Natalie glanced back once and gave him a small wave.
Then she vanished behind the doors.
Donovan sat there silently for a moment longer.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"…Yeah," he muttered softly to himself.
"That was definitely a date."
---
The next morning, Donovan woke up to screaming.
Not dangerous screaming.
Worse.
Chris Evans screaming.
"WAKE UP, RICH BOY!"
Donovan opened one eye slowly from beneath the blankets.
Apollo, sleeping beside the bed, didn't even react anymore.
He had adapted to Chris months ago.
The bedroom door burst open dramatically.
Chris stormed inside wearing sunglasses indoors and carrying two energy drinks for absolutely no reason.
Jake walked in behind him looking much more civilized.
"Morning," Jake said calmly.
"Your golden retriever escaped again."
Chris pointed aggressively at Donovan.
"YOUR GRANDPA IS TAKING US TO SHOOT GUNS."
Donovan blinked once.
"…What?"
---
Thirty minutes later, the entire situation somehow became even stranger.
Because Arthur Blackwood had apparently decided that:
1. Donovan spent too much time around fake movie weapons.
2. Jake looked "physically incapable of surviving a home invasion."
3. Chris had "the survival instincts of an excited Labrador."
4. Scarlett needed to "learn how to properly intimidate idiots."
So naturally…
He took all of them to a private Blackwood-owned shooting range outside Los Angeles.
---
The outdoor range stretched across a massive desert property beneath the blazing California sun.
Rows of steel targets stood far in the distance.
Several shooting tables were already covered with equipment.
Pistols.
Shotguns.
Rifles.
Protective gear.
Scarlett stared at the setup while adjusting the ear protection over her hair.
"…This is either incredibly cool or deeply concerning."
"Both," Jake answered immediately.
Arthur Blackwood stood proudly near the tables wearing sunglasses, jeans, and an old military-style jacket.
The old titan looked completely at home here.
"Alright, listen up," Arthur barked loudly.
"Rule number one: Don't point the damn gun at anything you don't want destroyed."
Chris raised his hand immediately.
"What if I emotionally want Jake destroyed?"
Jake looked exhausted already.
Arthur pointed at Chris without hesitation.
"That right there is why I don't trust you near explosives."
Scarlett burst out laughing.
---
About fifteen minutes later, everyone had gone through the safety tutorial.
Jake was surprisingly decent.
Scarlett was aggressively competitive.
Chris looked way too excited every time something exploded.
And Donovan…
Was suspiciously calm.
Which immediately caught everyone's attention.
Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly while watching him load a magazine smoothly.
"…Boy."
Donovan glanced up.
"You've held a firearm before."
It wasn't really a question.
Chris immediately gasped dramatically.
"WAIT A MINUTE."
Jake slowly pointed at Donovan.
"I knew it."
Scarlett looked genuinely interested now.
"Oh this suddenly got way more entertaining."
Donovan shrugged casually.
"I've gone shooting before."
"With who?" Jake asked suspiciously.
Donovan inserted the magazine with smooth familiarity.
"My grandfather."
Arthur looked deeply satisfied with himself.
"Damn right."
---
Then Chris made the mistake.
The terrible mistake.
"Okay hold on," Chris said, grinning mischievously. "How good could Donny actually be?"
Jake instantly understood the vision.
And unfortunately?
So did Scarlett.
"Oh my God," Scarlett whispered excitedly. "We should test him."
Donovan already looked tired.
"No."
"Yes," Jake said immediately.
Chris grabbed several different weapons from the table dramatically like a gameshow host.
"Ladies and gentlemen…"
Scarlett started laughing before he even finished.
"…welcome to Blackwood Got Talent."
"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done," Donovan sighed.
"That's a very competitive category," Jake admitted.
---
Ten minutes later, Arthur watched with crossed arms while the younger group turned the shooting range into absolute nonsense.
Chris dramatically placed different targets across the field.
Glass bottles.
Steel plates.
Moving pulley targets.
Tiny cans.
Jake pointed at the setup proudly.
"Alright, Mr. Chosen One."
Scarlett leaned against the table with visible excitement.
"Show us your Hollywood magic."
Donovan stared at them for a long moment.
Then sighed.
"…You people are exhausting."
Chris grinned.
"That's not a no."
---
The first pistol shot rang out sharply across the desert.
*BANG.*
A distant steel plate instantly rang.
Then another.
*BANG.*
Another direct hit.
Jake's smirk faded slightly.
"…Okay."
Donovan kept firing calmly.
No flashy movements.
No exaggerated action movie stance.
Just smooth precision.
*BANG.*
Bottle shattered.
*BANG.*
Moving target hit dead center.
*BANG BANG.*
Two cans exploded almost simultaneously.
Scarlett slowly lowered her sunglasses.
"…Excuse me?"
Chris stared at him in disbelief.
"BRO."
Arthur Blackwood looked like the proudest human alive.
"That's my grandson."
---
Then things escalated.
Because Chris Evans was biologically incapable of letting things stay normal.
"Nah," Chris said immediately. "Give him the shotgun."
Jake looked horrified.
"Oh that's absolutely a terrible idea."
"DO IT."
Scarlett pointed dramatically toward Donovan.
"Yes. Entertain me."
Donovan rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"You're all children."
"Cool children," Chris corrected.
---
A few minutes later, Donovan stood alone in the shooting lane holding the shotgun loosely in one hand.
Chris started tossing targets manually into the air like a maniac.
"PULL!"
The first clay target launched upward.
*BOOM.*
Destroyed instantly.
Second target.
*BOOM.*
Gone.
Third target.
Chris suddenly threw two at once.
Jake yelled:
"HE'S TRYING TO KILL YOU."
Donovan fired twice almost casually.
*BOOM. BOOM.*
Both shattered midair.
Scarlett physically stepped backward laughing in disbelief.
"Nope. Nope. That's actually annoying."
Chris looked like he had just witnessed religion.
"BRO IS THE TERMINATOR."
Arthur crossed his arms proudly again.
"Steady breathing. Controlled recoil. Good posture."
Jake looked at Arthur slowly.
"You turned your grandson into a tactical action hero."
"Damn right."
---
But the real chaos started with the rifles.
Because Jake — unfortunately — had an idea.
A terrible idea.
The kind that only appeared when intelligent people got bored.
Jake slowly looked toward Chris.
Chris slowly looked toward Jake.
Both smiled at exactly the same time.
Donovan immediately noticed.
"…No."
"Oh yes," Jake whispered.
---
Five minutes later, Donovan stood at the firing line while Jake and Chris dramatically placed random objects all over the range.
Bottles.
Cans.
Hanging plates.
Moving targets.
Even tiny fruits balanced on posts.
Scarlett was laughing so hard she could barely breathe anymore.
"This feels illegal somehow."
Chris handed Donovan the rifle dramatically.
"Alright Deadshot."
Jake pointed toward the range.
"Hit everything."
Arthur looked genuinely curious now.
Donovan stared at the rifle for a moment.
Then at the idiots surrounding him.
Then sighed deeply.
"…Fine."
---
The range went quiet.
Donovan raised the rifle.
And suddenly his entire demeanor changed.
The relaxed teenager disappeared.
His posture sharpened.
His breathing slowed.
Even his eyes looked colder somehow.
Jake noticed immediately.
"…Okay that's kinda scary."
Then Donovan fired.
*CRACK.*
Bottle exploded.
*CRACK.*
Steel plate rang.
*CRACK CRACK.*
Two moving targets hit instantly.
Then it became ridiculous.
The rifle kept firing with terrifying rhythm.
Every shot connected.
No hesitation.
No wasted movement.
Just absolute precision.
A can flipped into the air from one bullet.
Donovan immediately hit it again before it landed.
Scarlett physically grabbed Jake's shoulder.
"WHAT IS THIS MAN."
Chris screamed laughing:
"HE'S IN THE MATRIX."
Then Donovan casually switched shoulders mid-shot and destroyed another target without even fully aiming.
Arthur slowly removed his sunglasses.
"…Jesus Christ."
Even he looked impressed now.
The final target sat furthest away.
A tiny metal plate nearly impossible to see clearly.
Donovan fired once.
*PING.*
Direct hit.
Silence.
Then Chris lost his mind.
"NAHHHHH."
Jake pointed aggressively at Donovan.
"You are NOT a real person."
Scarlett was literally wiping tears from laughing too hard.
"This explains SO MUCH about your action scenes."
Donovan calmly lowered the rifle.
"You people done?"
Chris looked offended.
"Done? BRO YOU JUST ACTIVATED CHEAT CODES."
Even Arthur Blackwood started laughing loudly.
And under the burning California sun, surrounded by gunpowder, steel targets, and absolute chaos…
Donovan realized he honestly hadn't relaxed this much in a long time.