When you're at the end of your rope with no way out, a glimmer of hope can suddenly appear—like willows in the dark or flowers blooming in a hidden village. A warm hug helped Ronan settle his jumbled, chaotic thoughts, giving him a thread of clarity to hold onto. After three days of rollercoaster highs and lows, they thought they'd reached the end of the line. But in reality, a turning point was just ahead. Sometimes, you have to risk it all to see the light.
Ronan felt a sense of calm wash over him again. In the simplest way possible, he updated Alice on the situation. When she gasped in surprise, he didn't pause to explain further. Instead, he flashed her a smile and a look that said, "It's fine," before steering the conversation back on track.
"According to the plan, we've got five bar gigs left. After that, we're out of work, which means we're at a crossroads."
"If nothing unexpected happens, calling it quits might be the best option. We've been at this for seven years, and we're all worn out. We've tried every possible way to break through, but nothing's worked. So what else can we do? Wrap it up with these bar shows and call it a day."
"Ollie, you've got to admit, this is the most likely outcome: we can already see the finish line."
Ronan glanced at Ollie, whose face was pale and eyes dim. Though Ronan and Ollie had stayed out of the arguments between Maxim and Cliff, it was clear from Ollie's actions that he, like Ronan, wanted the band to keep pushing forward.
Faced with Ronan's blunt words, Ollie couldn't deny it. He took a deep breath and mumbled something in an alien language no one could understand, a clear sign of his frustration.
Ronan blinked, momentarily thinking Ollie was talking to him. It took a beat to realize Ollie was just muttering to himself, and Ronan couldn't help but chuckle.
As for his own thoughts, Ronan needed a moment to sort them out. Ideas were already forming in his mind—he just needed time to piece them together clearly.
Sometimes, what seems like a loss can turn into a blessing in disguise.
Everything in the world follows the law of conservation of energy—good and bad come hand in hand. So maybe Scooter's appearance could be the turning point, just not in the way they'd originally hoped. It wasn't about Scooter spotting them and catapulting them to a record deal overnight.
"But now, something unexpected has come up."
Ronan's words made Ollie look up again, confusion written all over his face. His furrowed brows tied themselves into a bow. "What do you mean, 'something unexpected'? Scooter wasn't a good surprise. Now Cliff and Maxim are gone, the band's falling apart, and there's no future left. Even these last five bar shows might not happen. There's nothing."
Unlike Cliff's loud outbursts, Ollie's complaints came out as a grumbling mumble, his words slurring together like he had a thick tongue. His eyes swirled with urgency and anxiety, starting to redden as if tears were about to spill over.
"Ollie, we need to look at this from a different angle. Sometimes, things look completely different when you shift your perspective."
Seeing Ollie's aggrieved and uneasy expression, Ronan let out a soft laugh. As he spoke, his eyes brightened a little. After the chaos, he seemed to find his footing again, steadying himself quickly.
For Ronan, the storms he'd weathered in his past life hadn't just added wisdom and years to his tally. There were still plenty of things he couldn't fix, and living again didn't make him an all-powerful superhero. What it really gave him was a mindset for facing challenges and setbacks.
It was about holding onto belief—not giving up too easily, not panicking, not pointing fingers when things got tough.
Just like now.
A flicker of curiosity sparked in Ollie's eyes, their faint glow reigniting a bit of hope. It was as if he truly believed Ronan could figure out a solution.
Compared to Cliff and Maxim, Ollie had always trusted Ronan. Back in the day, the core trio of One Day Kings started with Ronan and Ollie meeting and teaming up first; Maxim joined a bit later. Over the years, the bond between Ollie and Ronan never wavered.
Ronan could feel the weight of Ollie's hopeful gaze, that faint light rekindling. It settled heavily on his shoulders.
Then Ronan spoke. "Let's go grab some food first."
"…What?" Ollie nearly tripped over his own feet. Where did *food* come from out of nowhere? How did the conversation twist and turn its way to eating? He couldn't believe his ears. "Didn't we just have breakfast? And what's with those sparkly eyes of yours twinkling like little stars? Don't sound so giddy about something this ridiculous, okay?"
"That was ages ago!" Ronan shot back with unwavering confidence, leaving Ollie second-guessing himself. "And we didn't even eat enough!"
Ollie turned to Alice for backup, feeling like something was off. But then… Alice just looked up at the sky.
Fifteen minutes later.
Ollie stood at the back of a long line, staring at a winding queue that looked like a mountain road. His head was full of questions: Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
"…I heard about this place yesterday. It's supposedly Nora's most famous Southern hot dog joint. Their chili sauce is said to be the best in all of North America. Every year during the festival, this spot is packed—especially the morning after an all-night party."
Ronan chattered on excitedly, sharing the intel he'd gathered. He described the hot dog ingredients and sauce pairings with enthusiasm, especially the mix of avocado and honey, which was apparently a stroke of genius. "…It gives the hot dog this soft, sweet texture. Cuts through the greasiness of the fatty meat, balances out the smoky barbecue flavor, and leaves this lingering sweetness you can't get anywhere else."
Ollie couldn't help it—he swallowed hard. Then he turned and saw Alice pointing a camera at him. Embarrassed, he let out a laugh at a thousand decibels to cover it up, only to draw the eyes of everyone around him.
The people in line, with their smudged smoky makeup and panda-like dark circles, looked like a horde of zombies waiting for their food rations. It was honestly hilarious.
Ollie tried to rein in his grin but ended up laughing even harder, brighter. Alice joined in, while Ronan, oblivious to the commotion, stood on his tiptoes, peering at the food cart at the end of the line. He seemed to be sniffing the air, scoping things out.
Anyone who didn't know better might've thought he'd been starving for seven days and nights, on the verge of passing out if he didn't eat soon.
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