Ronan could feel the praise in John's simple yet sincere words. But coming from someone outside the band, the compliments still felt a little unfamiliar. Out of modesty, Ronan couldn't quite muster a direct response. Instead, his overflowing smile conveyed his feelings in its own way.
"…It's our honor," he finally managed to squeeze out after a long pause, sounding a bit stiff and awkward.
Still, John could sense Ronan's genuineness through the soft chuckle that came over the mic. There was no slick or polished reply, no seasoned finesse—just a touch of youthful sincerity that perfectly matched the image of the guy pouring his heart into music in those YouTube videos.
John didn't even realize it himself, but he gave a slight nod of approval. His mood lightened a bit, and then he steered the conversation back to the main point. "So, what's it gonna be? What's your answer? Can you make it to Washington tomorrow?"
John wasn't one for beating around the bush. Maybe it was because he'd spent too long in a position of power, calling the shots, and didn't feel like playing games with small-timers like this. No need for it. So, he cut straight to the chase again. If they weren't interested, he'd move on to the next candidate—no big deal.
John definitely wasn't banking on just one backup act. Covering for another last-minute hiccup was one thing, but Bruno also needed to vet the options himself. At the end of the day, the warm-up band was Bruno's call. If he didn't like any of them and decided to skip the opener altogether, John couldn't do much about it.
So, he tossed the question out there again.
The moment of decision had come once more.
It might sound like it dragged on forever, but in the back-and-forth of the call, everything happened fast—less than sixty seconds. And then John threw out the multiple-choice question for the second time.
For the One Day Kings band, if this was real, it was a no-brainer—a golden opportunity they couldn't pass up. It wasn't even about their future career; it was about the chance to show what they could do and share the stage with Bruno. That kind of experience was priceless.
But the big question now was: Is this legit? Or just a scam?
Ronan glanced up at Cliff in front of him, only to notice Cliff's eyes seemed out of focus. Sure, he was still looking at Ronan, but his body and expression were rigid, his pupils blank—like he'd been hit with a petrifying spell straight out of Harry Potter.
Ronan's brows furrowed slightly. He scanned the room, trying to spot Ollie and Maxim.
But… everything was happening too fast. Those two hadn't even noticed anything unusual over here. Their playful shouts still echoed in the distance.
In the dim, hazy light, Alice seemed to catch Ronan's gaze. The camera lens followed his line of sight, panning toward the far-off sounds of laughter and roughhousing. Two figures darted around tirelessly, like kids who'd never grow up. Then the lens swung back, catching Ronan's deep eyes lighting up. It was as if all the warm, yellowish glow around him settled into his pupils, turning them into stars.
Taking a deep breath, Ronan spoke into the mic. "No problem. We'll head out tomorrow."
"Nice one!" John snapped his fingers. "Then it's settled—we'll see you in Washington tomorrow." He wrapped it up cleanly, ready to hang up, when a hesitant voice came through from the other end.
"Uh… sorry, but can the plane tickets be reimbursed?" The embarrassment and frustration were palpable in the tone.
If the band weren't in such a tight spot, Ronan wouldn't have wanted to sound so broke. It was honestly pretty humiliating.
But John didn't mind at all. He burst into hearty laughter. He knew all too well the struggles of independent musicians, and this raw honesty only made him feel a little closer to them. "Haha, no worries, of course they can! I'll cover business class. Four people, right?"
"No, five," Ronan said, about to explain Alice's situation.
John waved it off casually. "Alright, five it is. Got it."
Beep beep beep.
The line went dead with a string of busy tones. John had hung up, leaving Ronan holding the receiver, a little dazed.
That's it?
That's it!
The whole call lasted less than two minutes. Worse than the brevity was the lack of substance—they hadn't discussed anything concrete, let alone done some clever back-and-forth to suss things out. It all felt so vague and rushed, yet somehow the deal was sealed.
Wasn't he supposed to channel his inner Sherlock Holmes here?
Then what was the point of asking the guy to call in the first place?
Dreams are grand, but reality bites. Ronan couldn't shake the feeling that if he ever ran into a scammer, he might end up happily counting the cash while they sold him down the river.
"…Ro… Ronan…?"
Cliff's focus seemed to snap back. He noticed Ronan's slightly stiff posture and finally found his voice again.
"Oh!" Ronan replied, slowly hanging up the phone. He stood there for a moment, mulling over the call, trying to piece it all together. Then the sounds of laughter and roughhousing burst in from the side. Ollie and Maxim stumbled into view, shoving each other and cracking up.
"What's up?" Ollie picked up on the subtle shift in the air right away. A grin lingered on his lips as his eyes darted between Ronan and Cliff.
Maxim sensed it too. He figured they still hadn't gotten the call, so he waved it off. "No need to sweat it too much. Honestly, it sounded like a scam from the start. A big shot like Bruno Mars looking for a warm-up band on YouTube? That's a stretch. We shouldn't get hung up on it. Let's just focus on prepping for tomorrow's gig."
Maxim stepped forward and patted Cliff's shoulder, trying to lighten him up.
Then Ronan's voice cut through. "But what if it really is Bruno Mars? He's inviting us to Washington to be his warm-up act. You still wouldn't go?"
"Huh?" Maxim thought Ronan was joking at first and didn't catch it fully. He let out a confused sound and turned to look at him. But then he saw the smile creeping up on Ronan's face, unstoppable, and his heart skipped a beat. He froze.
"Ahh!" Ollie caught the confirmation in Ronan's eyes. A cheer erupted from him, arms shooting up as he let loose. "AHHH!" He couldn't hold it in anymore, lunging forward to wrap Ronan in a bear hug, his shouts of joy unstoppable.