147-149

Chapter 147: Over the Moon 

So… that’s it? 

“Oh,” and that’s the only reaction before passing out again? Is Ollie’s response seriously this unstable? Is this really normal?  

Ronan stared at Ollie, who was fast asleep, his ecstatic emotions suddenly stuck midair. For a moment, he stood there, dazed and lost, before shaking his head with a wry smile. The tension in his muscles, wound tight from excitement, finally eased along with his mood. He let out a long sigh, “Ah…”  

Turning toward his bed, he was ready to flop down spread-eagle—only to realize he’d been running around like a lunatic with his guitar still strapped to his back.  

Thankfully, he hadn’t left it at the pool, or he’d have to make another trip down there.  

Taking off the guitar, he plopped heavily onto the edge of the bed and grabbed the laptop sitting nearby. For a brief second, he zoned out, reality slowly sinking in.  

Once the silence settled, the wild excitement began to simmer down too. His heart was still pounding, fast and chaotic, but that sense of reality tugged him back to earth, grounding him. His mind calmed, and rationality crept back in.  

After a moment’s thought, Ronan opened the laptop, ready to check Google and Facebook for updates: What’s going on with Bruno? 

According to the original plan, Bruno and John were supposed to arrive in Washington yesterday and have their interview today to confirm whether One Day Kings could be the opening act. The whole point was to avoid wasting the band’s time.  

Endless rehearsals day and night were a burden on both the band and the crew. If the opening gig didn’t pan out, they could wrap up rehearsals early—either find a new opener or go without one entirely. John-Mark could move on either way.  

But Bruno and John had both bailed. According to Julio, work in LA had caused a delay, pushing their schedule back by a day or two. The band members were a bit puzzled but didn’t object. After all, Bruno’s a busy guy—time’s hard to pin down.  

Still, after tonight, Ronan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.  

From wandering alone at midnight to looking like a washed-up boxer, to Bruno’s reaction to the song “A Slower Death,” everything screamed unusual. Sure, the band’s spot as the opening act was already locked in, and Bruno’s odd behavior didn’t really affect them—but Ronan’s curiosity was itching.  

That gossip-hungry side of him just wouldn’t quit.  

Google and Facebook might not be the best sources, but for now, Ronan didn’t have much else to go on.  

He’d barely opened Google, typed Bruno’s name, and hit enter when a loud bang bang bang rattled the hotel room door. Bang bang bang! The whole thing shook like it might collapse, the noise earth-shaking.  

“Who’s there?” Ronan called out.  

“Ronan! Ronan!” came a muffled shout from the other side. Even though the voice was trying to stay quiet to avoid stirring up the hallway, Ronan could tell it was Cliff.  

Setting the laptop down, he hurried to the door. The second it cracked open, Cliff barreled in like a whirlwind, followed by Maxim squeezing through. Instead of heading inside, Maxim lingered near Ronan. “What’s going on? What happened?”  

Ronan’s head was full of question marks as he looked at Maxim, confused. “Shouldn’t I be asking you guys that? What’s up? Why’d you both come rushing over?”  

“Ronan!” Cliff’s voice rang out again. Not seeing Ronan, he doubled back to the entryway, his urgency practically bursting out of him.  

Ronan couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, yes, it’s me, Ronan. You’ve got the right guy—no need to keep double-checking!”  

Cliff stared at Ronan, who was cracking up, his impatience so intense it looked like his eyes might pop out.  

“What?” Just then, Ollie’s groggy voice floated in from the room. He jolted upright, blinking blankly as he scanned around. “We’re confirmed as the concert’s opening act?”  

After missing the beat by a mile, Ollie had somehow latched onto the key detail in his half-asleep haze and snapped awake again.  

His voice echoed through the room. Cliff and Maxim locked eyes with Ronan, nodding furiously, seconding Ollie’s question. It was what they were dying to know too.  

So that’s it.  

Apparently, Ronan’s earlier excited shouting had reached Cliff and Maxim’s ears. They’d only caught bits and pieces, though—enough to wonder but not enough to be sure. So they’d raced over, desperate for confirmation.  

Ronan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced at the wall and muttered, “I thought five-star hotels were supposed to have better soundproofing than a motel.”  

“That’s not the point!” Maxim’s voice cracked from excitement. He rubbed his throat but didn’t care, pressing on. “I was out on the balcony smoking and heard you. What’s going on? What’s really happening? What did you mean earlier?”  

Ronan’s mood lifted again, but this time he stayed calmer, a contrast to his teammates’ anxious energy. He patted Maxim’s shoulder, then motioned for them to step aside. Walking back into the room, he spotted Ollie—hair a wild mess, eyes still lost in a fog.  

Seeing Ronan, Ollie mumbled, “Ronan, I just had a dream. You told me we’re confirmed as the concert’s opening act. What do you think dreams mean?” He swallowed nervously after that.  

Ronan’s lips curved into a grin. He glanced back at Cliff and Maxim trailing behind him like a string of ducklings, then decided not to keep them hanging. “It wasn’t a dream—it’s real. I did wake you up, and I did tell you we’ve secured the opening gig.”  

“…” Silence.  

After a full second, Cliff cautiously asked, “What do you mean?” His hesitant tone betrayed his nerves and uncertainty.  

Ronan patiently explained, “I ran into Bruno at the pool earlier and we talked. He even shared some thoughts about music. Then he said there’s no need for tomorrow’s interview—he’s decided now. We’re officially his opening act.”  

“…” More silence.  

Ronan added, “I double-checked. It was definitely Bruno Mars.”  

Ah! 

The reaction finally hit, shattering their rational thoughts in an instant. Screams and cheers erupted uncontrollably.  

Over the moon.  

Chapter 148: Beyond the Lights 

“Ah!”   

The “proper reaction” Ronan had been waiting for finally arrived. It was delayed by quite a few beats, but when it came, it exceeded all expectations. 

Ollie finally snapped out of it. He let out a single cheer before burying his head in the blankets, muffling all his shouts and cries into the mattress. His shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and beneath the stifled yells, there was a faint quiver of emotion. 

It was hard to tell whether it was laughter or tears—maybe a bit of both. 

Then Cliff and Maxim came to their senses too. Their eyes lit up with disbelief, and they started jumping around in place, too excited to care about anything else. But mindful of the other hotel guests, they couldn’t shout out loud. That silent frenzy only amplified the storm raging inside them. 

Cliff clapped both hands over his mouth, screaming silently. He couldn’t hold it together—his knees buckled, and he sank slowly to the floor. His shoulders slumped as if they might collapse entirely, nearly burying his head in the carpet. He fought to keep it in, letting out soundless cries. 

Maxim, meanwhile, bounced around like a kangaroo, hopping from the entryway to the balcony and back again. His lips stayed sealed, not making a peep, but his feet were in hot-pot-ant mode—restless, pacing back and forth. Lost in his own world, he paid no attention to anyone else. 

The silent cheers and madness hit like a shockwave in the quiet. Ronan’s emotions surged again, his eyes growing slightly misty, which left him feeling a little flustered. 

He knew—they all knew—how precious and rare this opening gig was. To others, it might just be a warm-up slot, but for One Day Kings, it carried a tangle of deeper feelings. 

Words felt so inadequate right now. 

A wide grin spread across Ronan’s face as he watched his bandmates, each lost in their own thoughts. They’d probably need a little more time. He didn’t interrupt their personal celebrations. Instead, he returned to his bed, picked up his laptop again, and let his gaze settle on the screen. 

He’d only meant to avoid disturbing their joy, but unexpectedly, he stumbled onto something—a lead from TMZ. 

TMZ, short for “Thirty-Mile Zone,” refers to the greater Los Angeles area, the heart of Hollywood gossip. It’s the biggest celebrity news site in the U.S., known for its credibility. 

Sure, it’s a paparazzi-driven gossip outlet, but its reporting is rock-solid. They triple-check everything before publishing, boasting a 99% accuracy rate. Nowadays, people judge a rumor’s truth by one standard: “Did TMZ cover it?” That alone shows their professionalism and authority. 

And the latest scoop on Bruno Mars? Straight from TMZ. 

According to their confirmed report, Bruno was pulled over for speeding in L.A. two days ago. When the cops checked him, they found him in a dazed state—over the legal alcohol limit and using “leaf,” aka cannabis. 

Two years back, Bruno had been caught in Las Vegas with traces of a more dangerous, illegal substance. That landed him a twelve-month probation sentence. If he stayed clean for a year, the charges would be dropped. This past February, he completed the probation without incident, and the slate was wiped clean. But now, just six months later, he’s been caught again. 

Cannabis is a gray area, though. The U.S. debates its legalization endlessly, and California allows it for medical use, so it’s not enough to get Bruno charged. Driving while impaired, however, breaks public safety laws, and that’s what’s gotten him into trouble. 

No wonder.   

No wonder Bruno delayed his arrival in Washington.   

No wonder he seemed so wild and reckless tonight. 

In his past life, Ronan had trudged through long, dark years, battling illness and himself. He’d once been desperate enough to consider turning to questionable escapes, anything to flee the shadows chasing him. Thankfully, he’d never actually gone down that road. Music became his salvation instead. 

After that long, bleak valley, Ronan grew even more resolute about steering clear of those things. 

But he also knew some problems in this world can’t be fixed, and some darkness sticks with you forever. So what was going on with Bruno? Judging by his reaction to “chronic slow suicide,” he was clearly wrestling with something, turning to substances as a way out. 

Ronan’s mind drifted back to Bruno’s look tonight—that disheveled boxer vibe. Maybe it hinted at his current state of mind. But who—or what—was he fighting? Himself, perhaps? 

Just like Ollie. 

At that thought, Ronan glanced up at Ollie. 

Having just vented his emotions, Ollie lifted his head. He watched Cliff and Maxim still losing their minds, then noticed Ronan’s gaze and looked over, puzzled. “What’s up?” 

Ronan snapped back to the moment and flashed Ollie a smile. “Nothing, just got some inspiration by the pool earlier. It’s not fully formed yet, but it’s something. Maybe we can talk it over tomorrow.” 

Ollie didn’t overthink it. His mind instantly latched onto Ronan’s words. “Hm? A new song? Or…?” 

Before Ronan could answer, Cliff’s voice cut in from the side. Finally regaining his senses, his brain kicked back into gear. “Ronan, did Bruno say anything? What’s going on? The audition’s delayed by a day? That won’t mess up this week’s tour schedule, right?” 

Ronan’s thoughts swirled for a moment. He’d looked up the gossip and found the TMZ report—it wasn’t exactly a secret anymore. But after a second’s consideration, he pushed the urge to spill the tea aside, resisting the temptation to dive into rumors. 

“Nah,” Ronan said, casually closing his laptop screen. “He didn’t say, and I didn’t dare ask.” 

Ollie waved it off with a carefree shrug, his voice a little nasal. “What’s one day’s delay? We’ve already locked in the gig—that’s what matters, right?” 

By now, Maxim had calmed down from his celebration too. He nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, exactly. The big thing now is the show coming up. We’ve gotta get serious—this isn’t some Full Moon Party gig. People are paying real money to see this. You heard, right? Bruno’s concert is completely sold out. Ten thousand people in the audience. We can’t mess this up.” 

Ten thousand… huh… 

Chapter 149: Live on Tour 

Ten thousand audience members—what does that even mean? 

Honestly, with just a limited imagination, it’s impossible to picture the scene. It’s like a castle in the sky—no matter how grand or massive the image in your head, it still lacks that real, tangible feeling. In the end, you have to be there, experience it firsthand, to truly grasp the sheer impact.  

Buzz buzz buzz.  

Buzz buzz buzz.  

Standing in the backstage hallway of the Verizon Center, you don’t even need to see it with your own eyes—the heat pulsing through the air is undeniable. The faint rustling and clattering of countless small sounds collide, brewing into a rolling wave of energy. The whole space hums with it, and you can feel the surge rippling across your skin.  

Before you know it, your excitement takes over, unstoppable. Your heart thumps so hard it feels lodged in your throat.  

The hallway is a whirlwind of staff rushing back and forth. Busy figures don’t even have a second to catch their breath. It’s like a bustling street, packed and relentless—anyone daring to cross risks getting swept away or knocked over.  

Ronan and Ollie, though, dart through like little hamsters, glancing left and right. They weave between the chaos, stopping and starting, trying their best not to disturb the frantic workers. Still, they press forward toward the stage, eventually peeking out from the wings.  

“Did you see it?”  

“Careful!”  

“Ahhh! I’m exposed! I locked eyes with someone in the crowd—just staring at each other like that! Ahhh! We totally made eye contact!”  

“Where are they? Are people still coming in?”  

Watching Ollie bounce around like a rabbit, Ronan’s anticipation and curiosity hit their peak. His heartbeat pounds against his eardrums, tugging at his nerves and veins, like every muscle in his body is gearing up at once.  

Truth is, all five of them—including Alice—were buzzing with curiosity, itching to sneak a peek at the crowd from the wings. But after some back-and-forth, Cliff and Maxim decided to hold back their impulses. Alice had the job of filming everything, so in the end, it was just Ronan and Ollie who slipped out of the green room to check out the scene.  

Ollie barely poked his head out before he started freaking out and hopping around, which only cranked Ronan’s excitement to a whole new level.  

Pushing Ollie aside, Ronan stepped forward half a pace and leaned out from the wings. And then—  

Buzz.  

All he could hear was a roar in his ears as a breathtaking panorama unfolded before him.  

People. People. People.  

A dense swarm was trickling in, filling the ten thousand seats. So far, only about a third were taken—plenty of time left until it was packed—but that contrast between empty and occupied seats made it so vivid. You could feel the venue coming to life. Compared to the empty arena during rehearsals, this was ten times livelier, like all the noise and chaos of the world had converged right here.  

So unfamiliar, as if this were his first time stepping into the Verizon Center. Yet so familiar—the stage, the seats, the lights—all etched into his skin. Every move echoed through the space.  

People, people, people, people, people.  

Audience members hunting for their seats, others eagerly chatting with friends, some craning their necks to take in the venue, a few dancing solo without a care, groups waving excitedly to familiar faces, and more still pouring in…  

The scene sprawling before him was chaotic, loud, and crowded, yet every little detail stood out crystal clear. It painted itself across his vision, searing into his eyes, delivering a visceral punch to his senses and a jolt to his soul.  

More overwhelming than he’d imagined.  

Grander than he’d dreamed.  

Even if he’d stretched his imagination to its limits, the reality still soared beyond it. It was like the hazy, sweltering air of a blazing summer day warping the world, a tidal wave of heat crashing over him. His blood boiled with it, pulling him into a mirage-like trance.  

Thump.  

Thump! 

Excitement, nerves, anticipation, and joy flooded his chest effortlessly.  

“How is it? How is it?” Ollie’s eager, hyped-up voice yanked Ronan back. His mind was buzzing, thoughts too scattered to pin down. After a slight pause, all he could muster was, “Wow.”  

But that was enough.  

“Right? Right? Wow! Wow!” Ollie couldn’t find better words either, just echoing the same awe.  

Then a staff member’s voice called out from behind, prepping for work. Ronan and Ollie didn’t linger—they turned and bolted from the wings, their giddy steps turning into hops. They bounced and sprinted all the way back to the green room.  

“Unbelievable!”  

“You guys seriously need to see it—the whole place is full of people!”  

“A packed venue is a totally different beast from an empty one.”  

“It’s all people!”  

“Wow! They’re just starting to file in, and it’s already on a whole other level!”  

“Standing on that stage, we’re like ants—tiny ants! So small!”  

As he spoke, Ronan noticed his voice trembling slightly. Then he realized his fingers were shaking too. The mix of anticipation and nerves about stepping onstage swirled together, emotions bubbling up in his chest:  

This was a real, professional concert stage! 

And they were about to perform on it.  

“Stop, stop, stop!” Maxim clutched his chest, shaking his head. “Even without you saying it, I’m already so nervous I’m cramping up.”  

Then he turned to Cliff, who was facing the wall, and threw him under the bus. “Look at Cliff—he’s about to cry!”  

“You’re the one crying! You’re crying!” Cliff whipped around, neck stiff, yelling back in a huff. His wide-eyed glare at Maxim was pure fury—until he realized his outburst just gave him away. Ronan and the others burst into laughter.  

No one was immune.  

They were all buzzing for tonight’s show, but that excitement came with a flip side—doubts and nerves. What if they couldn’t win over the crowd? What if they fell short of expectations? The tension hit hard, and suddenly, none of them felt like themselves.  

Even now, laughing at Cliff’s flailing, their amusement didn’t last long. They quickly realized they were in the same boat, worrying about the performance. The nerves choked out their laughter, and the air grew tight.  

What do we do? What do we do? What do we do?  

(End of chapter)