274-276

Chapter 274: Exodus 

In the biblical story of Exodus, Moses led the enslaved Hebrews out of ancient Egypt toward the Promised Land. When they reached the Red Sea, the vast ocean blocked their path. Then Moses raised his staff, and the sea parted, revealing a dry passage through which the Hebrews safely escaped. As the Egyptian army gave chase, Moses lowered his staff once more, and the waters returned—drowning the pursuers and securing the Hebrews’ freedom. 

A miracle. 

And now, standing here witnessing this breathtaking scene—could it also be called a miracle? 

Kane wasn’t a devout believer, and he knew better than to casually label something a "miracle." That wasn’t something to throw around lightly, especially when it came to ordinary people. 

But at this very moment, watching the crowd fall silent—eerily silent—while the air remained charged with excitement, eyes brimming with anticipation all locked onto Ronan, even the members of One-Day King and the Shining Band... how could it not be a miracle? 

Kane turned his head and looked through the crowd behind him. More people were still arriving—scattered figures emerging from the night, running forward with electric energy. He couldn’t make out their faces, but their movements said it all. The crowd continued to grow. 

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

The air still burned. 

Ronan could feel the heat pulsing across his skin. The bitter cold of a Washington winter had seemingly vanished, replaced by the final breath of summer in September. All eyes were drawn to him—even without a spotlight, he was the center of attention. 

It felt just like being back on stage. 

Then Ronan raised his voice. 

“Tonight’s party clearly isn’t over—and I can’t think of a better reward than that.” 

As he spoke, he turned to look at his fellow Shining Band members, wanting to share the moment. But when he caught Wesley’s face, the guy was dramatically shaking his head and waving his hands like, “Don’t drag me into this, please don’t drag me into this.” 

The gesture cracked up the crowd instantly. 

Ronan chuckled too, spreading his hands in a helpless expression. The playful exchange only added to the joy, making the laughter even louder. 

But he didn’t dwell on it long. 

“The truth is—I can’t see you all. And I want to. I want to see every single one of your faces. I want to remember everyone who came to support us tonight—whether you’re here for the Shining Band or One-Day King. I want to remember all your beautiful faces. I want to remember this night, our night.” 

His voice echoed in the heat of the crowd. It was clear his throat wasn’t in top shape after a full night of singing—there was a rasp, and his volume didn’t carry far. Only the first third of the crowd could hear him clearly. The rest remained in the dark. 

And yet—somehow, that first third went completely still. 

Not just quiet—still. 

Even their breathing and heartbeats seemed to slow. The air itself was hushed, every eye focused entirely on Ronan. No distractions, no stray thoughts—just him. 

They could still feel the pushing and jostling behind them. The crowd wasn’t completely tamed. But those closest to the front tried their best to hold the line—becoming a buffer, a dam that gently absorbed the remaining chaos. Then, calmly, they turned around and passed on Ronan’s message to the others. 

And like that—the swell of movement began to slow. 

The wildness faded. 

Here’s the most magical part: the heat didn’t go away. The passion, the energy, the excitement—if anything, it only intensified. But the feeling had changed. That reckless, chaotic party vibe transformed into something else—an intimate anticipation, a sense of connection. The crowd seemed to shrink, as if it were just each fan and the idol they adored, lost in their own moment. 

The result? A peaceful, controlled wave of calm spread across the venue. 

Unbelievable. 

Just 90 seconds ago, the crowd was on the brink of erupting—a chaotic volcano moments from exploding. 

Now, just 90 seconds later, it was calm, orderly. The same burning passion, but no madness. 

If this wasn’t magic, then what was? 

Standing there, Kane felt it too. It wasn’t just the atmosphere, though that was impressive enough. It was Ronan. 

Earlier, when Ronan had closed his eyes to bask in the crowd’s cheers, Kane had called it arrogance. But now? 

This Ronan—glowing, warm, dazzling—was anything but arrogant. He was like the morning sun catching on dewdrops, a quiet golden glow. The fatigue in his face, painted by the night’s toll, made his smile seem even more genuine. And his eyes—bright, focused—met every fan with a personal, heartfelt connection. 

Even Kane felt it. 

He felt Ronan’s sincerity. 

And more than that—he felt the music again. In his mind, the melody of "Chasing the Light" began to rise. No lyrics, just notes—like sunlight dancing across a clear spring. It stirred something inside. Something real. 

People always say that art comes from life, but rises above it. The same goes for music. Every song is a piece of the artist’s soul. 

From "Chasing the Light" to "My Demon" to "Top of the World", even setting aside the emotional weight of the lyrics, Kane could feel the same thread running through each note—purity, honesty, vulnerability. The raw heart of someone who wasn’t afraid to be seen. 

He looked at Ronan again. 

Took him in. 

The smile. The exhaustion. The truth in his eyes. Ronan was tired, yes—but overflowing with joy. 

Eyes don’t lie. Just like music. 

Maybe, Kane thought, he’d been blinded by his own bias. Maybe the truth wasn’t under the spotlight at all. Maybe it was right here, in the quiet after the chaos—where music’s true story lived. 

As if sensing his gaze, Ronan turned his eyes toward Kane. A small smile curled on his lips. He dipped his head in a polite nod. 

Kane blinked in surprise. 

Then he smiled back—genuinely, for the first time. 

Chapter 275. Special Treatment 

A smile lingered briefly at the corner of his lips before giving way to a hint of awkwardness and restraint. After skillfully taking control of the scene with calm composure, Ronan ultimately revealed his lack of experience. He turned to look at Jeremiah and Wesley beside him and raised his voice, saying, “I have to admit—I have no idea what to do next.” 

The fans in front of him hadn’t yet grasped the meaning of Ronan’s words, but Wesley had already burst into laughter with zero regard for tact. 

Wasn’t this the guy who had just been confidently in charge? 

Ronan’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he met the crowd’s gaze and said honestly, “I’ve never faced this many fans before. This is the first time I’ve been ambushed like this after a concert. I’m really not sure what we’re supposed to do.” 

Laughter erupted! 

The fans finally understood, but instead of mocking him, they laughed heartily. Ronan’s honesty made him seem endearing. 

“Group hug!” “Food!” “A kiss!” “Go out!” “Party!” “Stay overnight!” 

Voices called out from every corner, each more eager than the last to offer suggestions. In the resulting brainstorm, the ideas became increasingly wild and absurd. As the scene teetered on the edge of chaos, Ronan finally spoke up to cut it short: 

“Don’t assume I’m some cowboy from Texas. I may be inexperienced, but I do know the basics. Let’s not push the boundaries too far.” 

Boom! 

The fans exploded into laughter again. Wesley and Ollie were laughing so hard they nearly fell over. 

Jeremiah clapped Ronan on the shoulder and said with a big grin, “Thanks, the cowboy in me feels offended.” 

Ronan shrugged helplessly and fired back, “Then why didn’t you step in to help? They’re your fans too, you know?” 

Jeremiah rubbed his nose and looked away, “Ooh, look, a plane!” 

Ronan rolled his eyes dramatically, then turned back to the fans, “How about this? Handshakes and hugs—we’ll get to see every face up close, but also keep things moving quickly. I swear, my mind is filled with nothing but the hotel bathtub right now. I desperately need a hot bath.” 

“Ronan, saying that kind of makes us sad. Are we really worth less than a hot bath?” a fan in the crowd protested. 

Ronan shook his head lightly, “No, no. But if I don’t rest tonight, that means 1,500 people might be complaining tomorrow. I’d rather not be in that situation.” 

Ha ha ha ha! 

The crowd burst into laughter again. They immediately understood his point, and someone shouted, “I’m one of those 1,500 tomorrow—so I can already look forward to an even more legendary performance than tonight!” 

“Well, that depends on how good the bath is tonight,” Ronan said with a wink in the direction of the voice. The casual quip kept the laughter rolling. 

Jeremiah could hear Maxime behind him muttering helplessly, “Ronan’s turning this into a full-on stand-up show.” Cliff and Wesley were laughing right along. 

Ronan finally stepped forward, opened his arms to the fans, and gave a warm hug, “Thank you for loving our performance.” 

A simple sentence, but full of sincerity. 

Ollie started to get nervous again. He quietly moved closer to Ronan and asked in a low voice, “Ronan, what should I do?” 

Ronan gave him a calming look, “They’re here because they love our music and our performance—just like we do. Keep that in mind, and you’ll be fine.” 

That’s how One-Day Kings came together. That’s how One-Day Kings and Radiant Band met and began their tour. 

Ollie nodded slightly, still nervous but a little more at ease. As enthusiastic fans stepped up, he began to relax. Maybe… it wasn’t so hard after all. Even with more people, facing one fan at a time still felt the same. 

“Ronan!” 

He instinctively turned toward the voice—and saw a girl rushing up to give him a big, tight hug. She clung to him as if trying to squeeze every bit of air out of her chest, nearly suffocating him. 

“Ronan! Thank you, truly. Thank you for standing on that stage and singing. Thank you for holding on long enough for me to finally find you.” 

Simple words—but they hit Ronan straight in the chest. So his presence, his music, his dream—meant enough to someone to be thankful for it. A gentle warmth spread through him, and his nose tingled with emotion. He was a little flustered. 

As they let go, Ronan took a good look at the girl and clumsily replied, “Thank you for saying that—it made my day.” 

A bright smile bloomed on her face, “Ronan, please keep singing on that stage. Please keep going. That’s where you belong. When you sing, you shine—you light the way for us. So please, keep shining for us from the stage, okay?” 

Ronan paused, then smiled in return, the corners of his mouth lifting into a brilliant curve, “Okay.” 

It was a promise. 

The girl laughed with joy, even spinning in place. Then she faced Ronan again and declared, “My name is Sophie Villar—I’ll always support you!” 

With that, she stepped aside to make room for the next fan. 

Ronan quickly gathered his thoughts, only to see a tall young man appear before him. Unlike the others, this fan didn’t go in for a hug. He extended his right hand, seemingly just for a handshake. 

Without hesitation, Ronan took his hand, ready to say something—but the boy spoke first, “I love your music. People say music is a reflection of fragments of the soul. I’ll keep looking forward to your work. I hope you’ll continue creating great music.” 

The words sounded like those of a fan, but his tone wasn’t excited or emotional. It carried the cool, critical air of a “professional reviewer,” almost like a quality inspector. Not unfriendly, but definitely different. 

Without waiting for Ronan’s reply, he turned and walked off—joining Sophie. 

Ronan blinked in surprise, then a playful smile spread across his face. 

Interesting. Very interesting. 

Chapter 276 All-Night Frenzy 

"Ah!" Ah... ah... ah... 

Sophie raised her voice and shouted into the empty street. Her voice echoed through the wide open space like it was bouncing off canyon walls. The sound made Cain nervous—he looked around anxiously, checking to see if there were any nearby residential buildings or if they were disturbing anyone's sleep. 

Sophie spread her arms wide and spun as she moved forward. When she noticed Cain's worried expression, she burst into laughter. Her carefree laugh startled the birds resting atop the street lamps, causing a flurry of wings in the still night—a sound that stood out like ripples in calm water. 

Cain flinched too, instinctively pulling his neck in and scanning the sky to locate the source of the fluttering. 

Sophie laughed even harder. She stopped spinning and called out to Cain, "Relax, Cain. Just chill out." 

Cain turned to her with a slightly helpless expression. But looking at Sophie, running freely in circles down the spacious, deserted, and silent street, her arms spread like wings—like she was breaking free from every restraint—he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. 

Of course. 

It wasn't like Sophie didn’t understand the potential consequences of what she was doing. Making noise might disturb residents. Standing in the middle of the road could be dangerous if a car came by. They were clearly breaking the unspoken rules of everyday life—but maybe that was the whole point. 

To break out of the mold. 

Cain cautiously looked both ways down the street. The traffic lights still blinked dutifully, their bright, changing glow oddly sharp in the night. They continued to send signals—green or red, go or stop—but on these empty streets, their signals felt pointless. Not a single car in sight. Not even a shadow of a person. The lights seemed stubborn and lonely, like they were clinging to a task that no one cared about. 

Kind of like… a dream. 

Everyone else had already moved on, no applause, no support, and yet it persisted. Waiting for dawn to pierce through the darkness. 

Lonely. Stubborn. Maybe even a little sad. And yet… somehow moving. 

Cain couldn’t believe the thoughts running through his head. Was he seriously feeling emotional over a traffic light? Where was that even coming from? It felt absurd, ridiculous, completely over the top—was this some kind of existential crisis brought on by too much late-night philosophy? And yet, despite himself, he chuckled. 

His lips curled into a smile, and the cloud of anxiety and worry began to lift, like the sky clearing after a storm. 

It was probably still because of the concert tonight. Because of One Day King and Shining Band. Or more specifically, because of One Day King's song "My Demon". These indie bands made them believe in dreams again. In perseverance. In a kind of foolish courage. 

Everyone said it was pointless, that it wouldn’t lead anywhere. And yet they persisted. Just like that lonely traffic light on an empty street. 

So… who were the real fools? 

Suddenly, Cain realized how deeply the backstage experience from earlier had affected him. So many thoughts and feelings stirred inside, impossible to sort out right away. It felt like he’d opened a door to a whole new world. He even started thinking about past concerts he'd attended—what were those artists like behind the scenes? 

"Cain!" 

Sophie’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. His focus shifted, and there she was, her face lit up with a bright smile under the night sky, shouting excitedly: 

"Let’s go to the record store right now!" 

What? 

Cain froze for a second, trying to process what she'd just said. But Sophie didn’t wait for a response—she turned and took off running toward the unknown, and Cain panicked again, quickly chasing after her. 

“Sophie… Sophie! Hey, Sophie!” 

Cain rushed to catch up, keeping pace beside her as he tried to get his breath under control. 

“Sophie, it’s two in the morning. The record store isn’t even open. This isn’t New York. What… what are you planning to do there?” 

Still catching his breath and nearly coughing, he managed to get the words out. 

Sophie looked at him wide-eyed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Buy the album! One Day King's album!” 

“…You can just buy it tomorrow.” 

“But I want to buy it now…” 

That back-and-forth left Cain stunned. He had every reason to argue, but the words just wouldn’t come. And then Sophie bolted forward again, arms spread like wings, running as if she could actually take flight. 

She couldn’t wait a moment longer. 

Before tonight, Sophie had simply thought One Day King's music was good—especially "Chasing the Light". But that was it. She hadn’t bought a physical album. 

Now that digital music was everywhere, free streaming services were quickly becoming the norm. Physical album buyers were a shrinking group—either hardcore fans or professional collectors. Casual listeners rarely bought CDs anymore. 

Sophie hadn’t even considered it. 

Until tonight. And now that thought—no, that urge—was unstoppable. Like a spark turning into wildfire. 

So she did it. At 2:15 in the morning, she ran toward the record store—just because she wanted to. 

Sophie and Cain looked like characters out of Run Lola Run, darting through the city on foot. And just as their energy was about to run out, they finally arrived at the closest chain store near the concert venue— 

Walmart. 

Yes, a supermarket. The kind where you buy laundry detergent and cereal. But in North America, supermarkets were also the most widely available places to buy music. Not specialty record stores, sure—but thanks to their prime locations, they stocked a surprisingly vast selection. 

That’s also why only major labels could get their albums into supermarkets. If you were looking for indie bands or records from independent labels, you’d have to find a specialty shop—maybe even one only hardcore fans would know. 

Sophie wasn’t sure if One Day King's album would even be there. She didn’t know who their distributor was. But considering where they were, they didn’t have a better option. Walmart was their best bet. 

And she wasn’t the only one who thought so. When Sophie and Cain arrived, a crowd of excited fans had already gathered outside the locked iron gates, creating the vibe of yet another party.