For some reason, under Ronan's steady gaze, Ollie nodded in agreement. But worry and confusion still bubbled up. "But what about Cliff and Maxim…?"
A band is a band because it needs different instruments—drums, keyboards, guitars, bass, and more. Each one brings its own flavor, clashing and blending together to create something moving. Lose any piece, and the melody just isn't the same.
Plus, the heart of a band lies in live performances. Unlike the steady predictability of a recording, every show shifts with the performers' energy, the crowd's reactions, and random surprises. The same song can spark a different magic each time.
In other words, swapping members, instruments, or venues can change the whole vibe. And now, with two of their four bandmates missing—along with two instruments—how could they even keep going?
Despite Ollie's concern, Ronan stayed cool as a cucumber, his smile and gaze unshaken. "I'll take the keyboard, you handle the drums. Remember that song we did together?"
If they stuck to performing King For A Day's original tracks, Ronan might trip up. He barely knew those songs yet—mid-performance, he could go off-key or forget the lyrics entirely. That'd be shooting himself in the foot.
So, Cliff and Maxim's absence was actually a stroke of luck. It gave him an excuse.
Then a memory flashed in his mind—one tied to music, familiar as ever. He and Ollie had teamed up before, just keyboards and drums, reworking a classic tune with their own spin. It was perfect for right now.
Ollie blinked, then lit up. "'Don't Stop Believin'?'"
Ronan raised an eyebrow, winking at Ollie with a playful glint in his eyes, like he was saying, Pretty genius idea, huh?
Ollie let out a dumbfounded laugh. Even if he was skeptical, he had to admit it was a solid plan.
"Don't Stop Believin'" is a timeless hit by the American pop-rock band Journey, released in 1981. It's one of the most beloved pop-rock songs of the '80s. Then, in the 21st century, Glee made it the theme for their first season, sparking a whole new wave of hype.
The song's message? To inspire countless music-loving dreamers to never give up hope.
Right here. Right now.
For King For A Day—stuck in a rut, scraping the bottom—they could use a little faith. Dreams fueled by pure adrenaline can only carry you so far before exhaustion kicks in. Passion and fire get worn down by harsh reality, smoothing out their edges.
For Ronan, though, the song meant something else—something Ollie couldn't guess.
But that happy misunderstanding didn't stop them from agreeing.
Ollie didn't argue anymore.
He turned toward his drum set, grabbed his sticks, and glanced at Ronan's back. Something about his friend felt… different. He couldn't put his finger on it. Was it the fever frying his brain?
Just then, Ronan glanced over his shoulder. His bright eyes sparkled under the caramel-colored lights. Ollie quickly shook off his jumbled thoughts and nodded at him—I'm ready. Whatever's going on, let's just get through tonight's set.
Ronan's fingertips brushed the cool keys, feeling their smooth glide. He closed his eyes, and the world slipped back into darkness.
From fear and rejection to calm acceptance, then finally getting used to it—he'd long grown comfortable with that dark. Not only did he stop dreading it, he started savoring it. With the darkness came silence, a deep, all-encompassing quiet that let him hear melodies tucked away in every corner.
Tap, tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap, tap.
His fingers hit the keys, and clear notes rang out, crisp like a bubbling spring. Silky moonlight flowed along the sound, cool and pure, spreading out in simple, honest beauty.
The big stage had just one lonely spotlight, casting a soft glow over Ronan. A small shadow huddled at his feet, timid and shy. Ollie, tucked in the dark, was barely a faint outline, nearly vanishing.
Sam Penn noticed the stage stirring right away. The two bandmates arguing in front of him were driving him nuts—he didn't want to deal with them. His mind was on how to shake them off, so he wasn't fully tuned in. That's why the shift caught his eye instantly.
"What's he doing?"
Sam's face darkened, and he spat out a couple of curses under his breath.
"Who gave him permission? Tonight's set is done—unfinished means unfinished! I'd rather leave the stage empty than let some random nobodies mess around up there. Does he think he's Bob Dylan? Maroon 5? Queen, for crying out loud?"
"Jesus Christ!"
Cliff and Maxim were half a beat behind, but they soon spotted Ronan and Ollie starting to play. They didn't know what was up, but they figured their bandmates were trying a last-ditch move to save the gig. Finish the set, and the bar owner's complaints would dry up.
So, they exchanged a quick look, stepped forward together, and blocked Sam's path, throwing off his line of sight—
They were helping their teammates finish the stage.
Sam was livid, veins popping on his temples, his face red as he yelled nonsense. "Stop them! Get them off! Stop them!"
But who was he even shouting at?
They'd been talking business near the bar's entrance, shrouded in shadows a little ways from the counter and the seats. Sam's frantic words didn't have a clear target, and they drowned in the piano's rising notes.
The bar's patrons didn't even clock the change. They didn't notice the piano cutting through, too wrapped up in their own bubbles.
"Damn it!"
Sam's beet-red face looked ready to burst, but Cliff and Maxim held him back, leaving him powerless.
Up on stage, Ronan wasn't fazed one bit. His clean, smooth voice started to sing softly:
"Just a small-town girl, livin' in a lonely world, she took the midnight train goin' anywhere."
Note: All the music featured in this book can be found in the related works section of the table of contents.
(End of Chapter)