Duncan, perched on a high stool at the bar, followed the spotlight with his eyes—not out of curiosity, but out of boredom. Everyday life always craves a little distraction, and a bit of music never fails to lift the mood. Then came the lead singer's introduction:
"…Welcome to our kingdom!"
Short, sharp, and brimming with youthful energy and a touch of swagger. The crowd didn't miss a beat—some bar patrons immediately shouted back with playful jabs:
"Let's see how good the perks are before we decide!"
"Your king doesn't look all that impressive!"
"Is this an Amway sales pitch or what?"
The teasing and laughter rippled through the room, instantly turning the bar's vibe into a bubbling, lively mess.
Even Duncan couldn't help but let a small smirk tug at his lips.
The lead singer on stage didn't flinch, though. Cool as ever, he tossed back a quip:
"Well, you'll have to listen closely then, and decide if it's worth it—don't let me fool you too easily!"
Confident, funny, chill.
The whole place erupted in laughter!
The bar crowd, who hadn't expected much from this first gig, now started to perk up with a flicker of excitement.
Then Sam Payne showed up.
To be fair, Sam had seen countless bands, watched endless performances, and listened to more music than he could count. He wasn't a pro by any stretch, but he had his own take on things. Last night, the One Day King band's show didn't leave much of an impression on him. They were pop-rock—think Jonas Brothers, the Disney version. Sure, they called themselves a band, but it felt more like an idol package: catchy tunes with zero depth, not even catchy enough to be a proper earworm. For a giant like Disney, a band like that works fine.
Why? Big companies have the resources. Music's just a vehicle, the band's just a concept—they can push it through other channels, package it up as a shiny product, and rake in the profits.
But for an average band from an average company? In today's world, where rock's fading and pop's blooming in a hundred different directions, there's not much room to grow. The music industry isn't what it used to be—no more casual five-million or ten-million sales in the golden age. The market's shrinking, and listeners are flocking to just a handful of genres. Jazz, rock, folk—they're all getting squeezed out.
That's why Sam didn't care much for this band. No uniqueness, no pull, no value for the bar. But then, their reworked version of "Don't Stop Believin'" caught him off guard. From the melody to the delivery, the performance to the emotion—it hit different. You could feel the raw energy bursting out, and it shook Sam's judgment.
Had he misjudged them? Missed some hidden potential?
That's why he gave them a shot for tonight's encore. He wanted to see what was up. Worst case, it's just one gig—no big deal for the bar.
Sam settled at the far end of the bar, blending into the shadows, watching the stage with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.
Up front, Ronan glanced at his bandmates:
Ollie on drums.
Cliff on guitar.
Maxim on bass.
He stomped his foot hard, feeling the solid stage beneath him. The nerves morphed into pure adrenaline, ready to explode. A quick nod, a knowing look—Ollie's drumsticks hit the cymbals with a tss-tss, and then the instruments kicked in together. Notes wove into a melody, bouncy and bright, layering up and radiating outward. It made your fingers itch to tap along.
Ronan slung his guitar behind him, grabbed the mic with both hands, and lightly tapped the stand with his finger, syncing with Ollie's beat. His eyes sharpened, a grin creeping up. Gone was the pre-show jitters—he was in his element now, swimming in the music. You could see the joy in his face, like he was born for this.
"Turn on the radio, crank it up, dance 'til your feet go numb!"
He'd been worried about forgetting the lyrics—cramming all the melodies and words in just one day for a live show was tight, and it'd freaked him out before stepping on stage. But once the drums kicked in, it all clicked. The familiarity washed over him, relaxing every muscle. The melody was in his bones, the lyrics flowing out like water.
Man, this felt good.
"Goodbye fear—just one loud song, and it's gone. Nothing in the world can stop me now!"
Clear diction, crisp voice, upbeat tempo. The joy and happiness tucked between the lines melted into the notes, trickling out like a lively stream. No fancy poetry, just straight-up feelings laid bare.
Like a high school kid.
But Ronan's eyes sparkled with that lightness, like golden sunlight spilling over the calm Mississippi River, shimmering so bright it outshone words. His clean, lively singing synced perfectly with the drums and bass, landing softly on every listener's ears like a little jingle.
High schoolers might mean naive and simple, but they also mean pure and wild. That teenage heart—it's so straightforward, so clear, so open. You can see right through it, but that purity fuels a passion that sets it apart.
As you grow up, that naive simplicity fades. So does the wild passion.
Ronan's performance captured that purity and fire in the lyrics. Every word was magic, even the basic chords danced along. It woke up the crowd's ears, pulling them back to those vivid, gorgeous memories. Fingers started tapping quietly along.
Then Ronan threw his hands up, clapping to the beat:
"Clap your hands, sway your body, shake your soul—no faking it, all alone, heading home…" A flurry of tight drumbeats pushed the energy to a new peak. He grabbed the mic tight and belted out, "Music's deep in my soul, playing all the time—it's the only thing in my head!"
A pause, a breath, then he kept going.
"Music's got my body, I won't let go—no, no, I just wanna play my music!"
Light, hot, electric—Ronan's voice soared on that final note. It wasn't some crazy high note, but he made it feel effortless, shouting out that one burning thought inside. The boiling passion surged, almost scorching the soul.
Note 1: "Play My Music" – Jonas Brothers
Note 2: All the songs in this book can be found in the related works section of the table of contents.
Support me by leaving a comment, voting, and visiting myPatr-eon at belamy20