Maybe street performances are exactly the simplest and most suitable option for the One Day King band right now.
Even though Ronan could understand Cliff's thinking, he felt half worried and half excited about the idea of a road tour.
The worry came from wondering if he could really handle street performances. Being in a noisy environment, singing live every time, maintaining quality, and facing the real-time judgment of a shifting crowd—it would undoubtedly be a tough test of his nerves.
The excitement, though, was about finally stepping onto the path of a real tour. Every day, he'd get to stand on a stage, using music to write a chapter of their journey. Life would be filled with challenges and trials, but that also meant every day would feel like a fresh start.
"But… is it actually doable?" Ronan voiced his concern.
Cliff flashed a smile. "Relax, leave it to me. I won't let us end up on page six of the newspaper for illegal street performances."
Page six was usually the entertainment section, often led with juicy gossip.
"Every city requires a performance permit for street shows. A long-term one isn't hard to get—it just takes some time. Short-term permits, though, are super easy to handle. I'll take care of it." Clearly, Cliff had already thought through all the little details.
"And we're not just wandering aimlessly," Cliff added. "We'll finish this bar tour first, then head out along Route 66 toward Los Angeles. If we reach the end and still haven't found a way forward, well, then we call it quits."
The words just slipped out, and everyone's eyes snapped back to Cliff—especially Ollie, whose stare made him look like an angry penguin.
Cliff waved his hands frantically. "No, no, you're misunderstanding me! Listen, just hear me out!" Worried that Ollie and Maxim might explode, he repeated himself a few times. When he saw they were actually listening patiently, he calmed down, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
"What I mean is, we'll head to LA without a set arrival date. We'll take it as it comes, focusing mostly on performing. But before we get there, we need a goal—like what Ronan was just talking about."
All eyes shifted to Ronan, who was completely lost. What did I just say?
Cliff had to clarify. "Going back to our roots, starting from our own hearts, and creating music that reflects who we are—something like 'Born This Way' or 'Chasing the Light.'"
Oh, right! It clicked.
"Ollie and Maxim need to step up. We've got to make music that's truly ours. But if we get to LA and still haven't pulled it off…" Cliff trailed off, his eyes cautiously checking Ollie and Maxim's reactions.
Ollie, blunt as ever, jumped in. "Then it means we've been kidding ourselves. No point clinging to an impossible dream. We'd just keep music as a hobby and move on to something else."
His words were so direct that Cliff winced a little. After all, they'd just come off a huge fight that nearly broke them apart. "Ollie, you don't have to put it so harshly," Cliff said, holding back a bit.
Ollie waved it off like it was nothing. "That's the gist of it. No need to sugarcoat it. If that's how it turns out, giving up is the smart move. Then we let Ronan spread his wings and fly. Right, Maxim?"
Maxim gave a wry smile, letting out a long breath. "Yeah, he's right. Holding onto something impossible isn't faith—it's stubbornness. In the end, we'd just hurt ourselves and the people who love us, like our family and friends."
It was bitter, but Maxim had to admit Ollie's rough words made sense. And Cliff's plan? It was probably their best shot right now. After being ditched by their manager and crushed by a producer, they didn't have many options left.
So Maxim looked up at Ronan. "What do you think?"
Ronan broke into a wide grin, pushing down the worry and panic bubbling up about this new challenge. Excitement and enthusiasm took over. "I'm all in—hands and feet! As long as we get to stand on a stage and sing, I'm ready to keep this adventure going."
His simple words carried a raw honesty that touched Cliff and Maxim, softening their expressions.
Ever since Ronan had fought his way back from a high fever three days ago—teetering on the edge of life and death—he seemed to have seen through life's hardships. He was like the Ronan they'd met seven years ago, yet different—familiar but new, inspiring them in a way they hadn't expected.
Then came Ollie's merciless jab. "You're falling for this so easily? Watch out, or the big bad wolf might snatch you up."
"Haha, that wolf would be making a bad deal!" Ronan burst into carefree laughter, and Ollie couldn't help but crack up too.
Maxim joined in the teasing. "Snatching Ronan wouldn't even take effort—just dangle a lollipop."
"Hey! Are you ignoring me?" Ronan shot up, feigning outrage with his whole body. But then he dropped the act, flashing a "V" sign with his fingers. "At least make it two."
Laughter erupted, even from Cliff.
"Wait, wait!" Ronan waved his hands to stop everyone as they started to get up. "I need to add two hot dogs to that. My stomach's staging a protest!"
Maxim got it instantly. "I've got this! I'll go line up. You guys sit tight—Ronan's breakfast is on me."
With that, Maxim hopped up and jogged over to the line. Ollie shouted that he wanted another hot dog too, and within seconds, Cliff followed, calling back to Ronan, "I'll grab you one too. What sauce do you want?"
Ronan yelled his order across the room before settling back into his seat.
"You're not joining them in line?" Alice's voice came from behind the camera lens.
Ronan waved a hand, dead serious. "I need to save my energy for eating."
Alice had no comeback for that. A faint smile flickered in her eyes, but after a pause, she asked curiously, "Have you really never thought about giving up?"
Truth was, One Day King was at a crossroads where calling it quits made sense. They'd tried, they'd fought—giving up wouldn't just be understandable; it might even be the wise choice.
"How could I not?" Ronan smiled at Alice, then paused, murmuring softly, "Countless times."
He meant it. In his past life, he'd tried giving up—giving up on life itself. Standing at the edge of despair, every dark thought had crossed his mind. How could he not get where the band was at now?
Alice watched his profile. His lowered eyelids hid his gaze, and the sunlight traced the shape of his long lashes, casting a shadow like butterfly wings. There was a hint of loneliness, a touch of sadness—but it vanished in an instant. When he looked up, his eyes sparkled again, alive with light.
He turned to the camera, his lips curving up. "But this world's already full of smart people. Doesn't it need a few fools to keep going?"
In the golden sunlight, Ronan's smile was so clear, so vibrant. The sincerity and joy in his eyes rippled gently, shining bright.