"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…