"…We're hoping to one day take the stage in front of 20,000 people."
It was Ollie who answered Wesley.
It might sound like a long story, but the conversation between Ronan and the Shine Band was really just a few quick exchanges. Ollie and Maxim had already snapped out of their daze and stepped closer, while Cliff had slipped off to the bathroom to freshen up. Then, Ollie naturally jumped into the chat.
Compared to Ronan, Ollie oozed confidence.
His one-liner had Wesley bursting into cheerful laughter. Wesley stepped forward, high-fiving Ollie in celebration. "That's the kind of confidence I'm talking about!"
After that, Jeremiah took the lead, introducing the members of both bands. Once Cliff returned, there was more small talk, and soon they were all standing in the parking lot behind the bar's back door, chatting away. The back-and-forth banter buzzed with energy.
Later, Kacey Musgraves showed up, joined by members of two other bands. Everyone exchanged greetings, faces lighting up as they brought up tonight's performance. They swapped thoughts about the Full Moon Party's wild success and shared plans for their upcoming tour schedules.
More band members and staff trickled in and out of the bar's back door, the lively chaos slowing everyone's steps. Word of One Day Kings' performance had spread, and people stopped to say hi, even if just in passing.
Though they were mostly nodding acquaintances, Ronan and the crew made a bunch of new connections. Their parking lot hangout stretched on for another half hour. As the Full Moon Party neared its end, the marathon of a celebration finally winding down, the crowd started saying their goodbyes and drifting away.
"…That was in Atlanta, not New Orleans!"
"Wait, are you sure it wasn't New York?"
"No way, absolutely not!"
"It was definitely Atlanta!" "No, New Orleans!"
"You're totally remembering it wrong!"
The squabbling wouldn't quit. Ollie tossed out "New York" as a question, only to get shot down by both Maxim and Cliff. He didn't argue back, just shut his mouth and let them keep going at it, seamlessly bickering without missing a beat.
After the brief parking lot meetup, Ronan and the others didn't head back to the motel to rest. Sure, their minds and bodies were beyond exhausted, but the adrenaline high kept them from wanting to crash. So, they found a diner instead, figuring they'd chill there before calling it a night.
Eating breakfast while waiting for the sunrise—it was a vibe all its own.
Maxim and Cliff were locked in a debate about the great jazz brothers, Johnny Dodds and Baby Dodds. Before they made it big, were they hustling in New Orleans or Atlanta? Those two took drum rhythms and inner groove to a whole new level, but as kids, they'd also had to beg on the streets to get by.
Neither could convince the other, and the argument turned into a mess. Both were throwing out facts, piling up evidence to back their side.
It was a verbal showdown, and Ollie couldn't get a word in edgewise.
Then Maxim paused mid-sentence—
Chomp, chomp.
Cliff glanced at him. "What's up?"
Chomp, chomp.
Maxim jerked his chin toward Ronan, sitting diagonally across. "I keep hearing chewing noises. It's throwing me off."
Chomp, chomp.
Cliff followed Maxim's gaze to Ronan, who was sitting to his right.
Ronan was munching on bacon and scrambled eggs—a totally basic dish. The eggs were a bit runny, the bacon a little burnt, but he was eating like it was the best meal on earth. The faint smoky scent of the bacon hit the air, making mouths water.
Cliff sighed, exasperated. He tried his hardest to tune out the chomp, chomp sounds, but it wasn't easy. "I know, right? And this guy keeps looking at us like he's inviting us to dig in with him. But he's got no intention of sharing. What's his deal?"
Chomp, chomp.
Ronan kept at it, unfazed. The crispy bacon had a jerky-like chew, juices seeping out with every bite. Then he'd scoop up some eggs, the aroma blending into the soft, tender texture, bringing out a subtle sweetness. Saliva just kept coming in waves.
Maxim caught Ronan's clear, innocent eyes and swallowed hard. He glanced down at his lone black coffee—
Earlier, Ronan had asked if they wanted breakfast. Everyone else said no, claiming they weren't hungry. So Ronan ordered alone. Not long after, Ollie caved to temptation and got something too. Now Maxim and Cliff were still stuck with just coffee.
"Ronan, are you inviting us to share your breakfast or what?" Maxim asked, half-resigned.
Chomp, chomp.
Ronan didn't say a word.
Maxim felt a headache coming on. "…Hey, where's Alice?"
Chomp, chomp.
Ronan kept chewing, but Ollie piped up, free for a moment. "Alice had to shoot some extra Full Moon Party footage. She went off to handle it and said she'd meet us here when she's done. If she misses us, she'll head back to the motel on her own."
Chomp, chomp.
The chewing was getting to Cliff. He grabbed his fork, turned, and made a move for Ronan's plate.
But Ronan shielded his food. "Cliff, you know there's one thing in this world you absolutely can't share unless it's ours together, right? Guess what it is?"
Cliff stared at Ronan, guarding his plate like a mama bear. He knew the answer but didn't feel like playing along.
Ronan, though, gazed at him earnestly, waiting for a response. One second, two seconds—then he quietly popped another strip of bacon into his mouth.
Cliff was done. He threw his head back with a groan. "Fine, I'll order! I'll get my own food, alright?"
Chomp, chomp.
That was Ronan's only reply. Across the table, Maxim and Ollie were already cracking up, laughing so hard they could barely sit straight.
Ding-dong.
The diner door swung open again. Before the wind chimes even settled, rapid footsteps charged toward Ronan's spot. "Ronan, Ronan, Ronan…" Alice's voice rang out, unmistakable.
"Chance… Ronan… chance…" She was breathless, gasping between words. "Ronan, that guy—Scooter or Scott or whatever—chance! He says he's willing to meet you guys and talk about tonight's performance!"
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