It's hard for outsiders to imagine, but when life is constantly under the spotlight of cameras and lights, being honest and genuine becomes more and more difficult.
Bruno believes that with just one post on social media or a few quick phone calls, he could instantly be surrounded by a buzzing crowd. Even in the early hours of the morning, there'd be countless people eager to party with him.
But among them, how many are there to truly keep him company? How many are drawn by his fame? And how many are just looking to use him as a stepping stone to success?
And of those people, how many can understand his loneliness and pain? How many show up reluctantly because they can't say no to his name? How many genuinely see him as a friend?
Authenticity slowly fades under the glare of the spotlight until it's lost entirely.
That's why Bruno appreciates Ronan's sincerity and straightforwardness.
If it were him, his first instinct would also be to share his joy with his teammates, family, friends—those who truly care about his dreams.
"You guys should get ready. I'm looking forward to seeing your live performance in person," Bruno says with a bright, easygoing smile directed at Ronan.
"Thanks, Bruno."
Ronan's gratitude is heartfelt—not just because Bruno's giving them a chance to perform, but because tonight, he and Bruno have talked as equals, like friends. There's no trace of that celebrity aura around Bruno, and the whole conversation feels comfortable and natural.
"I told you, having a band like yours as my opening act is an honor for me. No need to thank me," Bruno replies, his mood lifting along with Ronan's. He can genuinely feel Ronan's excitement and joy. Then he notices Ronan taking a step forward.
Bruno stays where he is, hesitating slightly. The conversation's over—so what now?
Tonight, he didn't have any plans to begin with. After a lighthearted and pleasant chat, a wave of loneliness creeps in with the chilly night air. Goosebumps prickle his skin, and his thin bomber jacket does little to shield him from the late-night cold.
Then Bruno realizes Ronan has stopped right in front of him. "Hm?"
Following the shadow, Bruno looks up quickly, his gaze puzzled. What's going on?
"Aren't you heading back to your room?" Ronan asks, pointing ahead.
It takes Bruno half a beat to catch on—they're staying in the same hotel. Ronan isn't "going home"; they can still walk together. Bruno rolls his eyes at his own momentary awkwardness. "Sorry, my brain's a little slow tonight."
"Ha! It seemed to work just fine when we were talking about music earlier," Ronan teases.
Bruno's lips curve into another smile. He takes half a step back, gesturing invitingly. "Music's one brain, everything else is another—they're separate. But you go ahead. I'm not walking side by side with a giant like you. It'd make me look like a hobbit."
"Haha, in that case, your bodyguard must have a tough job," Ronan quips back, and Bruno bursts into laughter.
They chat and laugh the whole way until Ronan reaches his floor first—Bruno's staying in the penthouse suite up top.
In that short walk together, Bruno's restless thoughts settle. Ronan's like a little sun, radiating a gentle warmth.
"Good night! Hope you sleep well tonight," Ronan says as he steps out of the elevator, turning to flash Bruno a big grin. His steps are practically bouncing. "Honestly, I'm so, so excited to see your live show. The vibe of a concert is totally different from an album. I can't wait to be part of it!"
Watching Ronan, who's brimming with excitement from head to toe, Bruno feels his own mood brighten. Heading back to his huge, empty room to face the long night alone doesn't seem so bad anymore.
"Of course, compared to our own stage, the expectations might be a bit lower, but I'll enjoy the concert anyway," Ronan adds, giving Bruno a thumbs-up. The elevator doors slide shut before Bruno can respond with thanks.
But it doesn't matter.
Ronan turns around, clenching his fist triumphantly. Unable to hold it in, he jumps high and lets out a "Yahoo!" His joy and adrenaline are unstoppable.
Bruno Mars!
That was really Bruno Mars—life-sized, in the flesh. After a long conversation, all the emotions he'd been holding back finally burst free. The excitement and thrill explode like a volcano, doubling and redoubling, impossible to contain.
And—get this—they're about to be the opening act for Bruno's concert! Sure, it's just the warm-up slot, but it's an arena with tens of thousands of seats. It'll be the band's first time performing in a venue that big. What's that going to feel like? What's it going to be like?
Just thinking about it makes his head buzz with anticipation, blood rushing so fast it's all he can hear.
"Ollie!"
Ronan bursts into the hotel room, his voice echoing through the space. The only reply is a rumbling snore.
"Ollie! Ollie, Ollie, Ollie!" Ronan charges in, yanking Ollie up without a shred of mercy. Still half-asleep, Ollie feels the world shake beneath him. He jolts upright in a panic, shouting, "Tsunami! Tsunami! It's coming!" His eyes are wide but unfocused.
Ronan grabs Ollie's arm, laughing so hard he can barely speak. "Ollie! Wake up, it's me! Ollie! I just met Bruno Mars, and we're officially the opening act for his concert! No audition tomorrow—it's set. We're going on stage at the Verizon Center!"
Groggy and dazed, Ollie finally focuses on Ronan's face. He glances around blankly, nodding slowly. "Uh, uh, got it." After a beat, he adds, "So… no hurricane?"
Ronan's caught off guard by the question but answers reflexively, "No."
"Oh." Ollie nods again, patting Ronan's shoulder—maybe to comfort him, maybe just to acknowledge it—then flops back onto the bed. He crashes into the soft sheets like dead weight.
In seconds, his heavy breathing evens out, and he's fast asleep again.
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