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Added 2025-07-24 17:22:17 +0000 UTCChapter 286: Born with a Proud Spirit
"Run away with me. Lost souls in the frenzy, running wild, running free—just the two of us, you and me. Then I’ll shout it out—Hey! Hahaha! Hahaha! Living like renegades!" [*Note 1]
Ronan slowly closed his eyes. In his mind, he could feel the powerful fusion of drumbeats and bass. It was like a submarine steadily sinking into the deep sea—gently brushing against the ocean’s darkest depths, exploring the unknown. In that vast and silent world, only the roar of melody struck the eardrums, syncing perfectly with the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Boom! Boom boom! Boom boom!
Life is short, so seize the moment. Live wildly and freely. They were all lost souls at this grand party, intoxicated by alcohol and music. Blurred and unfocused, the uproar around them seemed distant. Even though the place was packed and lively, what they truly felt was an overwhelming sense of loneliness and solitude, impossible to shake off.
So—they ran.
Thump thump… thump thump… The violent pulsing of his blood tugged hard at the nerves near his temples, a pressure building so intensely it felt like his skull might burst.
Huff… huff… His burning breath ignited something inside his chest, setting it ablaze. The fire consumed all reason, leaving nothing but raw instinct.
Run! Run with abandon. Run wild, run free. Sprint with everything you’ve got through the deafening roar of the world. And when he finally snapped out of it, Ronan realized—he wasn’t alone. There was another figure running beside him. They ran together, recklessly, their eyes meeting, smiles spreading across their faces.
“Hey!”
He finally found his voice—roaring, shouting, as if releasing everything pent up inside. A burst of sound exploded from his chest, and it made him smile again. His cries didn’t stop—they only grew louder, more unrestrained, more exhilarating.
“Hahaha!” “Hahaha!”
Can you hear me?
This is my declaration, my call. Is there anyone out there, like me, chasing dreams and holding tight to their beliefs—walking a lonely road? Is there anyone like me, cast out to the edge of the world, desperately searching for someone to walk beside them, accompanied only by their own echo? Is there anyone like me, willing to burn their life to keep going—fighting on, even when the path is lonely and rough?
Is there anyone?
“Hey!”
If you hear me, then join me. Run with me.
“Hahaha! Live like a renegade!”
Is anyone out there?
"Pioneers live forever. Renegades, the deviants—they do too. Fearless, unyielding, sprinting toward the finish line with unwavering steps. Then I’ll shout it out—Hey! Hahaha! Hahaha! Live like a renegade!"
Pioneers. Renegades. Deviants. They’re the misfits of society, the ones who never fit the mold. But precisely because they're different, they burn brighter, more fiercely. Like wild summer flowers blooming recklessly, they pour their energy into the short journey called life—infusing it with color.
To play it safe is to be mediocre. To be timid is to be ordinary. To be fearful is to live a bland life.
If life is only about staying alive—eating, sleeping, and working just to get by—then it has length, but no width, no depth. And when you look back after a hundred years… what will you have left behind?
Dreams make life bearable. Belief makes life radiant.
Only true warriors, true fighters, have the courage to break free—shouting their voice into the monotony. And then, without hesitation, fleeing the noisy party and running headlong into the boundless night… chasing the light.
The roar echoes in his mind. It’s like being deep in the vast ocean, surrounded by darkness and cold. But within his soul, passion still rages. Grasping that faint light of belief, he unleashes every ounce of adrenaline—refusing to surrender or give up!
The lonelier it is, the stronger you become. The harder it gets, the more exhilarated you feel. The more painful it is, the more determined you are.
Like a deep-sea volcano, no amount of ocean pressure can contain its eruption. The unleashed energy could destroy Atlantis, shaking the continents above. They are the renegades—rebels powerful enough to rock the world!
Boom boom boom! Boom boom boom!
That thunderous roar in Ronan’s mind slowly escaped his lips in a soft hum. The melody was calm and gentle, without the grand force of drums and bass, but it carried a certain clarity and tenderness.
And then—Alice, who had been walking ahead, paused.
Standing at the balcony door, Alice watched Ronan softly singing. She couldn’t be sure if it was just her imagination, but in his unaccompanied voice, she could sense a kind of quiet strength—subtle but powerful, gently hitting her ears and somehow producing a steady rhythm.
Washington’s morning sunlight wasn’t harsh or dazzling. Pale gold scattered sparsely across the ground. But standing in its glow, Ronan seemed to radiate light—making it hard to look away. In that moment, Alice thought she saw something in his sharp, handsome features—an unshakable pride.
Proud, yet humble. Firm, yet calm.
In everyday life, Ronan usually lacked confidence. You could say he was modest, or even insecure. Rarely did he express himself boldly—unless he was on stage. But even with that, there was always a deep-seated pride within him.
He had his beliefs. He had his resolve. It wasn’t about confidence—it was about a kind of stubbornness, a bone-deep pride that nothing could shake. Especially when surrounded by music, Ronan always seemed to shine brighter than anyone. Whether it was Ollie, Maxim, or Cliff—they all, unconsciously, gravitated toward him.
Alice knew Ronan well. He’d always had that kind of spirit, but it had been subtle before. Maxim had always been the dominant one in the family. But now—now she wasn’t so sure she really knew Ronan. Something in him had changed. Matured. Transformed.
Silently, Alice found herself looking up to him—following his lead step by step.
It was already November, and yet Alice still hadn’t gone back to school. Why? Because she loved these days—walking the path with Ronan.
Looking at him now, Alice wanted to believe that in this vast universe, they—the dreamers—weren’t alone. Maybe, just maybe, someone else out there dreamed of sailing through the stars like a space pirate, exploring galaxies beyond human understanding. And maybe—just maybe—they would succeed.
Then, Ronan opened his eyes. Alice saw the brightness in them and smiled.
“So, you pushed Maxim toward me on purpose, didn’t you?”
Ronan’s lips curled into a smile. He didn’t confirm it. But he didn’t deny it either.
Note 1: The lyrics reference “Renegades,” likely inspired by X Ambassadors' song of the same name.
Chapter 287 Stars and the Sea
Alice gave Ronan a dramatic eye roll as she saw him grinning ear to ear. Then, without ceremony, she flopped onto the lounge chair beside him. “Maxim said it was you who was concerned about the progress of the music video,” she said flatly. “So he came all the way here to check on it on your behalf. Care to explain?”
Ronan let out a soft chuckle.
Alice sighed. “Clearly, Maxim doesn’t know you at all.”
It was laughable to think Ronan would stress over the progress of a music video. Not that he didn’t care—it’s just that timelines weren’t something that concerned him. He never rushed Alice and firmly believed in “slow work yields fine art.” Besides, One Day King wasn’t in a hurry to release the video anyway.
In Ronan’s mind, the “production schedule” ranked somewhere below “are the fries crispy on the outside and fluffy inside?”
Maxim’s little schemes, to the Cooper siblings, were about as clever as a kid playing cat’s cradle.
Still, Alice decided to give Maxim a shred of dignity and didn’t dig in further. She switched topics smoothly. “Is this a new song you just wrote?”
She picked up the notebook from Ronan’s knee and started reading the lyrics carefully.
The words were simple and straightforward, yet Alice could feel a stubborn pride radiating from between the lines. She tried to imagine how the melody might sound—hard and punchy, no doubt—but sadly, the musical genes in the Cooper family all went to Ronan. Alice had a decent ear for music, but when it came to composing or imagining a tune? Total blank.
Not that she had to write music. That’s what someone else was for.
“This part—sing it. I want to hear what it sounds like,” Alice said, pointing at the lyrics and handing the notebook back to Ronan.
Ronan glanced down, a smile playing in his eyes. Without another word, he began to hum.
Snap. Snap.
He kept time with his fingers. “Salute the underdogs, salute the next generation, salute the outlaws, from Spielberg to Stonewall…” Even without a backing track, Ronan’s a cappella voice was soft and melodic, yet powerful. His clear vocals carried a kind of force that made the lyrics hit even harder.
Especially those lyrics. From “underdogs” to “outlaws,” from Steven Spielberg—who revolutionized commercial cinema—to the Stonewall Riots that shook North American culture to its core… every word carried weight. Cultural, historical, emotional.
Boom. Boom.
Yeah. It packed a punch.
“It’s time to act. It’s time for self-reflection. It’s time to break the mold, sound the horn, and then I shout—” “Hey! Hey hey hey! Hey hey hey!”
Alice slowly closed her eyes, basking in the gentle warmth of the morning sun. Her skin tingled as the passion and madness of the music seeped in. In her ears, she could almost hear the thunderous encore from the night before, a roar that felt like it could shake the entire venue apart.
“Encore! Encore! Encore!”
They—he, she, and everyone else—were chasing dreams with everything they had. They weren’t settling for safe jobs, white-picket fences, and conventional lives. That made them look like rebellious wanderers in others’ eyes.
Underdogs. The next wave. Outlaws.
But they were also pioneers. Rebels. Mutants. Because of people like them, we have electricity and lightbulbs. Because of people like them, humanity learned to fly. Because of them, we began exploring the vast unknowns of space.
“It’s time to act…”
Such simple lyrics, and yet they carried unbelievable power. Alice could feel something stirring inside her. Her tightly shut eyes tingled with warmth.
No words were needed—music was stronger than speech. Alice could already see Ronan standing on stage, belting out this song to a surging, screaming crowd. Behind every cheering face was the soul of a rebel.
A dreamer. A chaser. A pioneer. Each face shimmered with infinite possibilities. Each one was looking to break free from the mold, paint their own path, and find their own color in the grayness of life. Each one believed that beyond the routine of daily life, a sea of stars was waiting for them to explore—bright, vivid, and alive.
Life could be so much more.
“Whew…” Alice exhaled softly, then opened her eyes and looked at Ronan. “What’s this song called?”
Ronan thought for a moment. “Renegades.”
In truth, both the melody and lyrics weren’t entirely finished. He still needed to tweak a few details. But the skeleton was all there, and the whole thing came together in under fifteen minutes—even with Maxim’s minor interruption. The creative flow never stopped.
Ronan loved moments like this—just like he loved the energy of last night’s performance.
“Renegades,” Alice repeated softly, and a gentle smile tugged at her lips. “I can feel it—the tone of your music is shifting.”
Before last night, Ronan’s songs always carried a hint of emotional bruising. Not sorrow or despair, exactly—but more like standing in the dark, looking up at the stars. Songs like “Top of the World” or “Chasing the Light” were all reflections of One Day King’s difficult journey.
Ronan never gave up hope, and he always stayed positive—but the scars were still there, hidden in the lyrics. It’s like writing a love song while going through heartbreak—hard to fake sunshine when you’re soaking in rain.
But after last night, there was a noticeable change in his music. He was still standing in the dark, but now, there was a sharp edge behind the smile. He’d found a target, locked on, and was ready to strike.
It was a small change. Subtle. But Alice knew Ronan well enough to feel it.
Ronan chuckled. “They say music is the sound of the soul. If you really hear the emotion in a melody, then you’ll understand the artist’s truth. It’s not just music—all art is like that. That’s what makes it beautiful.”
Alice paused, thoughtful.
She was a film director, after all—just beginning her journey in the world of art. She wouldn’t graduate until next June, and while she wasn’t lost or afraid, she was still figuring things out. She hadn’t hit any big setbacks yet, but when it came to artistic creation, confusion and doubt were part of the deal.
Ahead of her was a sea of stars, waiting for her to dive in.
Note 1: “Renegades” refers to the song Renegades by X Ambassadors. patreon:belamy20
Chapter 288 - Internet-Addicted Teenager
“Live like a rebel.”
What exactly does that mean?
Clearly, it's not meant literally. Ronan isn’t calling for a rebellion or a revolution. What he’s igniting is a fight within — a journey of discovering, embracing, and staying true to oneself. A battle to break free from mundane and repetitive routines, to live with purpose, and to let one’s own colors shine. To seek the eternal within a fleeting life, to explore the depth and breadth of existence, and to redefine what life truly means.
Courage. Bravery. That’s the heartbeat pulsing inside a true rebel — all strength and spirit come from this source. Just like that one lyric that immediately caught Alice’s attention:
“Salute the defeated. Salute the new generation. Salute the outlaws…”
Every real and sharp version of ourselves — every fragile, sensitive, different, and unique version — every self who lives sincerely, works hard, and loves deeply is precious. They all deserve to be embraced boldly, to bloom freely amidst the cycles of everyday life.
Even if that bloom only lasts a moment, its fragrance can linger forever.
Belief. Dreams. Such words are light as feathers yet heavy as mountains. You can’t explain them in a few lines — and yet, hidden in melody and lyrics, Ronan manages to express them with a disarming ease. Without even needing instruments, Alice already felt a surge of emotion — it was genuinely moving.
She turned her gaze back to Ronan, studying him carefully.
Ronan felt slightly uneasy under her stare and let out a small laugh. “What is it? Do I have bacon grease on my face? I did wipe my mouth after breakfast.”
Though his songwriting was incredibly important, Ronan would never neglect his stomach. He’d made breakfast early and was creating music while enjoying his meal.
Alice rolled her eyes at him, and the touching moment instantly vanished. “I was just thinking… you’ve changed a lot.”
Changed? Ronan’s heart skipped a beat. Had he slipped up?
But he didn’t panic. He’d prepared for this kind of situation. “So… is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
He didn’t explain or deny it — just went with the flow, as if the change was perfectly natural.
Alice kept watching him, staring at his calm, steady expression. After a long pause, she scrunched up her nose and made a funny face. “Bad. I liked the old you better. Ah… those were the good old days.”
The look in her eyes said it all, and Ronan immediately understood.
In the past, whenever Alice teased him, Ronan Cooper would always take it with a smile. Even if he got pranked, he never got angry like the more serious Max. Alice always preferred joking around with Ronan. But now, Ronan had gotten “smarter” — he wouldn’t retaliate, but he also didn’t fall for pranks so easily anymore.
Alice was just nostalgic for the days when she could mess with Ronan more easily.
In truth, though, Alice had grown up too. She hardly pulled any pranks these days. Maybe she wasn’t so much noticing Ronan’s changes as she was missing their childhood.
A faint smile appeared in Ronan’s eyes as he mock-protested, “Don’t make it sound like I’m bullying you now. People might get the wrong idea.”
Alice didn’t say a word — she just made another funny face. Her expression clearly said: See? You’re doing it again — bullying me!
Ronan burst into quiet laughter.
Alice stretched with a big yawn and stood up. “The editing for the music video is done. We’re just waiting for final confirmation from the company, and then it’s ready to upload. I talked it over with them. Even though we’re not aiming for the charts right now, we’re planning to release it every Friday to build a rhythm. Keep it consistent. What do you think?”
“The music video is finished?” Ronan’s attention was still caught on the first half of her sentence.
Alice smiled confidently.
Ronan nodded. “You guys decide. I’m good with whatever.”
Alice had expected that response. “You’re okay with it, but Maxime might have something to say.” Ronan raised a curious eyebrow.
Alice grinned playfully. “Maxime teased on Twitter that the music video reveals the band’s ‘worldview.’ He definitely doesn’t want to break that promise.”
Ronan paused for a second or two — then smiled broadly, the joy even reaching his eyes.
Alice didn’t wait for a response. She tossed the remark over her shoulder and walked out of the room. Her voice drifted back casually, “I seriously think Maxime’s turning into a social media-addicted teenager.”
Her old-fashioned tone made Ronan laugh even harder.
He completely understood Maxime’s excitement and enthusiasm.
The band used to go completely unnoticed. Even on stage, they rarely got much of a reaction. But now, out of nowhere, they had fans — people who cared not just about the performances but every little thing the band did. Of course Maxime wanted to interact more.
Part of it was seeking approval. Part of it was showing off. And a big part was just plain joy. Feeling seen after so long — it's normal to feel a little anxious about gaining and losing attention.
And Ronan wasn’t immune either — the song he was working on now was proof of that.
Thinking about all this, he started to look forward to the music video too. He turned his head toward the room and called out,
“Thanks for all the hard work on the editing!”
But Alice didn’t answer — she must’ve already left. A moment later, a groggy voice called out from inside:
“Music video?”
It was Ollie.
He suddenly sat up in bed with a jolt, eyes dazed and confused, looking around the room. Not seeing Alice or noticing Ronan out on the balcony, he paused, scratched his messy hair, and muttered,
“Was that… a dream?”
Then, with zero concern, he flopped back down. One, two, three seconds later — his breathing slowed, and he was clearly back asleep.
Ronan leaned back in his chair too, eyes returning to the notebook in front of him. The unfinished song — waiting for him to continue.
Meanwhile, social media was already buzzing. Even before One Day King’s first official music video had been released, it was drawing tons of attention.
This was already the third wave of hype in just a month — and each wave had been louder and more intense than the last. The name One Day King was charging into the public eye and might just be breaking into the mainstream.