The darkest hour?
Clearly, that wasn't an accurate description of New Orleans at this very moment. The brightly lit Bourbon Street was like daytime, the dazzling streetlights emitting a brilliant yellow glow that gradually seeped into the vast night sky. It painted the pitch-black night with a bluish-purple hue, spreading out in a breathtaking manner. Even the stars in the sky were completely relegated to mere decorations. The beautiful scene made the late-night revelry even more spectacular.
But!
The clock hand pointed to 5:26 AM. There were only seven minutes left until sunrise. The entire land seemed to fall into a moment of stillness. To welcome the arrival of the sun, the night sky covered everything tightly, extending far beyond the boundaries of New Orleans. The entire North American continent was plunged into boundless darkness. Even the faintest light, like starlight, was completely covered and swallowed by the vast expanse of inky blackness.
The moment just before dawn breaks is the darkest hour, and also the moment when the boundary between dreams and reality is most blurred. The dazed feeling between being asleep and awake is like having one foot in heaven and the other stepping into hell, experiencing bizarre and fantastical scenes in a dizzying, dreamlike state.
Unknowingly, a chilling coldness invaded the summer night. The breeze blowing over the Mississippi River carried a hint of coolness and moisture, instantly causing goosebumps to rise on the skin. Before the brain could even react, the body was already moving closer to the source of heat where the crowd was gathered –
The Old Ironworks Pub.
By the time they came back to their senses, a crowd had already gathered again at the entrance of the Old Ironworks Pub. Although there were no staff members controlling the flow of people in and out, people still lined up obediently, each one craning their necks to see what was happening inside the bar before deciding whether they wanted to join in. Small groups of people made the entrance of the bar lively again.
The crowd was flowing back.
However, the people inside the bar didn't have such a direct sense of this. They were isolated in a small, narrow space, reveling wildly, running until the end of their energy, completely immersed in the performance on stage, with no time to observe the movements outside.
Cheering, jumping, singing, shouting.
They were completely lost in it.
Ronan also didn't notice the subtle changes in the crowd. Standing on the stage, bathed in the lights, he looked out and saw only a dense mass of blackness. He could only vaguely make out the undulating lines of the crowd, making it difficult to accurately judge how many people were actually there.
Even if Ronan had noticed, he wouldn't have paid too much attention. Because he was completely immersed in the performance, the number of audience members was no longer the focus. What really mattered was that he had built a bridge through music and connected with the audience in front of him. That was the most precious and wonderful part.
Whether it was the audience or the band members, everyone was already immersed in the music. This was what made live performances unique. Ronan, in particular, opened his arms wide and embraced the moment tightly, reveling in it so completely that there was no way he could be distracted by anything else.
"La...dies... and... gentlemen..."
Another song ended. Ronan took a deep breath, drawing out his words, speaking powerfully into the microphone with a deep voice, launching into his topic like a news anchor.
This was the second time Ronan had spoken in just thirty minutes, and the first time he had actually completed a conversation with words. The rest of the time, he had used his performance to communicate and connect. Compared to language, music was the essence of the night. But at this moment, as the performance was nearing its end, Ronan finally started to "talk."
His deliberately serious tone was clearly imitating the opening announcement background music of the Academy Awards. The clear pronunciation and impressive "announcer" mode had a very ceremonial feel. But the problem was that Ronan, who was making the announcement into the microphone, was sweating profusely and his face was flushed, a far cry from the suited and booted professional image of the Oscars. This... it was like –
Giving the nine o'clock news while wearing a tank top and flip-flops. The huge contrast created a wave of humor in his words and a wave of amusement in his appearance, hitting them one after another, easily making the audience cheer and jeer along, mixed with joyful laughter.
"Let's give the kings of tonight our warmest applause and wildest cheers! Welcome to our kingdom, a kingdom with a lifespan of only thirty minutes!"
Ha!
The sound of explosive laughter climbed another level. Those sesame-seed-sized bits of humor were hidden in every corner of his words, making the relaxed audience laugh non-stop. The atmosphere at the Old Ironworks Pub reached a new peak.
Was this a stand-up comedy show or a band performance?
The young people standing at the entrance couldn't control their curiosity either. Amidst the laughter, they all craned their necks and walked in, their eyes full of confusion. They didn't understand what was happening at all, but their feet still carried them inside. And then... the Old Ironworks Pub slowly began to surge with people again.
Before they could even react, the one-third empty space in the venue seemed to have been filled again. And there were still more people pouring in from behind.
"First, the king of bass! From the glacial kingdom of the far north of the Earth, his deep facial features, like those of an ancient Greek god, are enough to make flowers wither. However, carbohydrates are his Achilles' heel, the imperfection that makes him perfect. Let's welcome – Maxim Puning!"
Pfft!
Maxim could hear Ollie spitting out his drink behind him. He almost couldn't hold it in himself, using all his strength to suppress the urge to punch Ronan. His right hand quickly plucked a line on the bass, the deep sound gently tugging at their heartstrings, showing his control over the rhythm.
Every time the performance was nearing its end, the lead singer needed to give the band members their own chance to shine, proving that they were also part of the stage and part of the band.
But unexpectedly, the moment that should have been routine was filled with humor because of Ronan's stand-up routine. Maxim kept telling himself that this was his moment to shine, and he barely managed to control the urge to throw his bass directly at Ronan, completing his show of skill.
"And then, the king of guitar! He traveled a long way from the fiery depths of the hot and humid abyss, possessing the stature and craftsmanship of a dwarf, dreaming of reaching the throne of the human king..."
The introduction had only just begun, and Maxim couldn't hold back anymore. He turned around and burst out laughing: Height! Dwarf!
Ronan was definitely doing this on purpose!
Luckily, Maxim turned around in time, avoiding his laughter being directly transmitted through the microphone. Then he could see Ollie laughing so hard he couldn't breathe, "Hahaha," and then he leaned back.
Thump.
Ollie disappeared.
Maxim's eyes almost popped out of his head, filled with question marks. What just happened? What was playing out in front of him? Was this a magic trick of making people disappear?