As the two friendly, approachable young strangers stood there, the band members' eyes all turned to Ronan. This was a question only he could answer.
"Oh, 'Looking For Some Light,' by One Day Kings," Ronan replied with a big, bright smile.
"Thanks!" The two waved again, giving Ronan a thumbs-up before turning to leave without another word. Nearby passersby clapped a couple of times, then scattered, their footsteps fading. One second, the scene was buzzing; the next, it was quiet.
Turning back, Ronan caught his teammates' surprised looks. He spread his hands with a shrug, his expression saying it was obvious. "I'm just telling the truth. It's a One Day Kings song—it just hasn't been recorded yet."
Of course, Ronan knew this was a golden chance to promote themselves. He could've said it was their original work, that the band just hadn't had time to record it. But this was a street performance—those guys might not have the patience for a long backstory, or maybe they were just casually curious, not deeply invested. A short, clear answer was best, and it still doubled as subtle self-promotion.
Maxim looked like he wanted to say something, but Oli beat him to it. "Ronan, Ronan, Ronan—was that a brand-new song you just came up with?"
"…Yeah," Ronan admitted, a little shy. Even after "Born This Way," he still wasn't fully used to it. It felt awkward, and he lacked a bit of confidence, but he was trying. "I got some inspiration just now and ran with it. Jesus Christ, I'm still not used to this."
Seeing Ronan scratch his head bashfully, Oli burst into hearty laughter. "You'll get the hang of it. Inspiration can hit anytime, anywhere. You just need to find your way of capturing it. Maxim and I jot notes—you can pick whatever works for you."
Ronan nodded eagerly. Oli and Maxim had way more experience here; he still had a lot to learn. "What'd you think? I mean, of the song just now…"
"Awesome!" Oli didn't hesitate, throwing Ronan a big thumbs-up.
He meant it—not just as encouragement, but real, heartfelt praise. He'd almost said it was even more moving than "Born This Way."
From an arrangement standpoint, "Born This Way" was catchier—simpler chords, more mainstream, like Scooter had pointed out. It fit the market. But that kind of melody could belong to any band—not just One Day Kings, but any group from last night's Full Moon Party.
It wasn't bad, just not unique—relatively speaking.
"Looking For Some Light," though? Even without an arrangement yet, its chords were more complex, the chorus richer in layers. The seemingly simple lyrics carried a poetic depth, faintly echoing the spirit of the Beatles or Bob Dylan from the '70s.
To be precise, it wasn't "better"—it was more distinctive, more One Day Kings.
That aside, Oli genuinely loved both songs. He could feel the emotional power woven into every word. And Ronan's delivery? It was a revelation. Every live listen was pure joy—
Especially this a cappella version, where Ronan's voice shone raw and unfiltered, touching the soul.
But!
Before Oli could spill all that excitement, Cliff cut in and stopped him cold.
"Let's keep going," Cliff said.
Ronan and the others froze, not quite grasping what he meant. Their eyes swung to Cliff. Oli muttered some grumpy alien gibberish under his breath—unintelligible background noise—while Cliff clarified.
"I mean, let's keep taking risks." His eyes flickered with hesitation, but he'd made up his mind. "Like Ronan said, let's hold on a little longer. Forget starting over—our story's not done yet."
"Cliff…" Maxim couldn't believe his ears. The Cliff in front of him felt like a total stranger.
Cliff gave a bitter smile. "I know, I think I'm losing it too. But… if I'm crazy, so be it. Let's decide this before I snap out of it."
Oli stopped grumbling. He stared at Cliff with heavy skepticism, like he suspected some hidden agenda or trick.
Cliff didn't call out Oli's distrust. He took a deep breath and said calmly, "I mean, nothing's really changed."
"We still don't know what's ahead. We still don't know where the finish line is. We still don't know if pushing on even makes sense. And we still don't know how much longer we can keep this up…"
The words came out rough.
Earlier, while Oli and Maxim had been reacting, Cliff stayed quiet—almost like he wasn't there. But that didn't mean he didn't care. Ronan's singing—clear, bright, pure, and honest—cut straight to the heart.
More than that, even someone outside the band, someone who hadn't been through their struggles, could still feel the emotion in that melody and be moved by it. Just look at the people on the street who'd stopped to listen—their eyes didn't lie.
If the Full Moon Party's reaction felt shaky—nerves dulled by an all-night rave, swept up in the vibe rather than proof of One Day Kings' strength—then this moment was pure, untainted.
Cliff's rational side was blaring alarms. He felt the panic of losing control, the reins slipping. Passion and impulse were waking up, tugging against logic and emotion. Should he trust his head or his heart?
He didn't have the right answer.
But he made a choice anyway. Some decisions might lead to regret if you take them, but you'll definitely regret not trying. So instead of sitting on that regret, why not go for it—act, change the odds even just a little?
Hope only works if you put it into action. Otherwise, it's just a mirage.
Speaking up wasn't easy. Cliff was wrestling with his own reason, but once the words were out, feeling the band's intense gazes, it started to get simpler. Step by step, his resolve hardened.