Boom!
Boom!
Just when everyone thought the volcanic eruption of energy had finished, the temperature was gradually settling down. Volcanic ash and not-quite-cooled lava floated in the air, still showing off their fiery nature. The lingering heat still kept the surrounding area buzzing. But unexpectedly, what was surging in the air wasn't just residual heat. A brand new wave of lava was brewing, the fiery orange magma already starting to bubble.
So, gazes filled with a mixture of astonishment and curiosity couldn't help but turn back: What was happening?
People strolling along the bustling streets could vaguely feel that scorching atmosphere. It was almost as if they could hear the sound of the air boiling and bubbling. Involuntarily, their eyes drifted towards the bar, a hint of surprise showing in their eyes.
"There's still this much energy left?"
Duncan Turner didn't hide his surprise at all. Standing there a little after five in the morning, he only felt top-heavy and unsteady, almost like a gust of wind would send him tumbling. His groggy brain kept sending out protest alerts, flashing bright red "Sleep, sleep, sleep" warnings, but they were slowly lulling him into a daze. His eyelids were getting heavy, and even his steps were faltering.
Actually, Duncan had already hit his limit around two in the morning. It was mainly because he'd been partying for most of the night, and his energy was long gone. His stamina couldn't keep up. But he'd pushed through until three, dragging his sleepy feet out of the Old Ironworks Pub and heading straight for the coffee shop on the corner. After downing a Red Bull and two cups of black coffee, he finally felt a little more awake.
But it was only a little.
Originally, Duncan had only planned to rest for twenty minutes, but it was as if he was glued to the chair. His head could also feel the table calling to him.
More than ever before, Duncan could feel the toll that age was taking. Twenty minutes turned into an hour, and then two hours. He just slumped there, not wanting to move even a finger. Time had lost its meaning, and before he knew it, it was already five o'clock.
But he still didn't feel like his body and energy had recovered. His muddled brain was still a mess.
Duncan finally gave up on his plan to party until dawn. Even if he didn't want to admit it, the harsh reality was that he wasn't twenty anymore. His plan to fully enjoy the entire full moon party had to be abandoned halfway through. Going home to rest was the sensible choice.
Although Duncan really, really didn't want to get up and leave – his body felt like it was stuck to the chair and table, and he kept feeling like his cheek might be drawn to the tabletop at any moment – he was worried that if he closed his eyes, he might fall into a deep sleep and not wake up for a long time. So, Duncan forced himself to perk up, said goodbye to the party, and prepared to go home and rest.
However, there was still a strong reluctance in his heart.
After graduating, working, getting married, and having kids, Duncan's life had settled into a routine. He didn't experience much change or novelty in his daily life. The monotonous days were slowly suffocating him – not because of his wife and children, nor because of his work and boss, but simply because... he couldn't find any vitality or energy.
It was like the frog in boiling water, not noticing the change in temperature but steadily heading towards death.
That day, the unexpected encounter at the "Noon" bar had given Duncan a little inspiration, the inspiration to reawaken the passion and vitality in his life. He was only in his early thirties, still many, many years away from retirement. He could still make his life shine, he could still add some color to his existence.
He should try harder.
So, he decided to come to the full moon party and truly participate fully, cautiously taking the first step.
Duncan had told his wife about his plan to attend the full moon party, but he'd kept quiet about his intention to stay up all night until dawn – because he knew what she would say, "You're not a kid anymore, you should learn to grow up..." His wife definitely wouldn't understand or support it.
He just wanted to try it out, to see if he could still break the stagnant pool in his heart.
But... it didn't matter anymore now. He had decided to give up.
The party was still fun, still exhilarating, but a thirty-year-old's party and an eighteen-year-old's party were ultimately not the same thing. It wasn't just his body protesting; his mentality and emotions had also changed. He could no longer enjoy a party like he did when he was eighteen.
By the third hour of the party, he'd wanted to go home. And by the sixth hour, he felt like his eardrums were starting to ache.
He remembered when he was in college, enjoying parties with his friends, pointing at those in suits who were just getting off work and laughing loudly, vowing that they would never become like that. Even when they were thirty, forty, or fifty, they would party until dawn.
Backaches and stiff muscles were never something they needed to worry about. It seemed like there was always an inexhaustible supply of energy in their bodies. A bottle of beer and a can of Red Bull could prove that "perpetual motion" was real. No matter how tired they were, a good night's sleep would restore them to their original state, ready to go to class, do homework, date, and then continue with a brand new round of partying.
And now?
Duncan began to doubt his decision to attend the full moon party. Was he pushing himself too hard?
Regardless, his wife was right after all. He really couldn't make it to the end. His knees and muscles had already started to feel weak. If he didn't go back soon, he suspected he might just collapse halfway home.
Maybe he should give up those unrealistic fantasies. Maybe he should honestly return to his life. Maybe he should learn to accept that a calm and uneventful life was his future.
Despite this, Duncan still felt a bit reluctant to leave. Deep down, there was always a force pulling and struggling. He deliberately took a half-circle detour, passing by the Old Ironworks Pub, wanting to take one last lingering look.
Actually, he knew that taking a look wouldn't change anything at all, and he wouldn't be able to see anything standing outside. In the end, he'd probably just see a familiar street corner scene, nothing more and nothing less. But he still went out of his way.
It was a little after five in the morning, and the streets were still bustling. The dense crowd chattering away didn't seem to have decreased at all, like an owl convention where other nocturnal animals had also joined in. Lively conversations and dialogues spread and bubbled under the creamy yellow streetlights.
But even so, you could still feel the weariness and loneliness gradually settling in the air. The heat and intensity of the clinking glasses and cheerful conversations were noticeably declining. The crowd was still surging, but the air was no longer boiling. You could even vaguely sense the quietness of the approaching dawn quietly spreading amidst the noise.
Then, at this moment, Duncan noticed the rolling heat wave coming from the Old Ironworks Pub, layer upon layer of ripples slowly surging and spreading.