Over and over, again and again—repetitive, tedious practice is a necessary grind. Without sweat, you'll never see results. During these sessions, time slips away unnoticed. Before you know it, dusk creeps in, painting the pale blue sky a vibrant peacock shade. Then, the lights of this sleepless city flicker on, crafting an artificial daylight all their own.
In the creamy glow, scattered beams of light shimmer into dazzling patches, decorating the city and sketching a breathtaking scene that nature could never rival.
"Guess that's it for today's performance?"
Ollie glances up at the glowing streets, realizing tonight's show is probably done.
Normally, Las Vegas is a city that never sleeps. Street performances could go all night, drawing crowds even at dawn. But tonight's different—the debate broadcast means the TV crew needs the area cleared. It's not that onlookers are banned; street acts just can't interfere with the live audio. Every band nearby has to pack up.
They've got two options: head to the other end of the Strip and keep playing, or call it a night and wrap up early.
Maxim shoots Ollie a look. "You're just hungry, aren't you?"
Caught red-handed, Ollie waves his hands frantically. "No, no, not at all!" But Maxim ignores him, leaving Ollie to cast a pleading glance at Ronan: Come on, aren't you hungry too?
Maxim turns to Ronan and Cliff for their take. "What if we head over to the MGM side and do one more set? What do you guys think?"
Cliff shrugs, unbothered. "I'm fine with it. The real question is, if we keep going, dinner's gonna be a quick grab. Didn't you and Ollie plan to hit the Venetian buffet tonight, Ronan?"
Gambling's the lifeblood of Las Vegas, so everything else—hotels, food—is kept affordable to keep people at the tables. Dinner buffets are a steal: twenty or thirty bucks for a five-star feast prepared by top chefs. And it's not just for hotel guests—anyone passing through can dig in.
For the One Day Kings, it's a dream come true: cheap, plentiful, and delicious. Since arriving in Vegas, Ronan and Ollie haven't stopped talking about it. But with street gigs, lunch and dinner are usually just sandwiches or burgers. They haven't had a chance to indulge—until tonight.
No wonder Ollie's itching to clock out.
Maxim opens his mouth to say something, then turns to Ronan. With a dead-serious face, Ronan declares, "Even if we do a third set, we can hit the buffet first. Eat our fill, then start around ten and wrap up by midnight."
Translation: I'm getting my big meal.
Maxim's face twists into a helpless grin. "Sure, that'd be perfect in theory. But realistically, if we go now, can you really finish eating in two hours?"
Ronan blinks, ready to protest—What do you mean I can't finish in two hours?—but before he can get the words out, a voice cuts in, breaking their rhythm. It's par for the course during street gigs; no one bats an eye. This time, though, it's different. A figure leans in close, physically interrupting them.
"Excuse me… are you the band from YouTube that played 'Chasing the Light'?"
A fan!
Ronan shoots Maxim a quick, mock-indignant glance, muttering under his breath, but he turns to face the newcomer with a smile. "Yeah, we're the One Day Kings."
"Ah! Ahhh! We found you! Finally!" It's two young girls, probably high schoolers, their faces dotted with acne and freckles. They bounce in place, giddy and unselfconscious, their excitement spilling out in wild gestures.
The band members exchange looks, faint smiles lighting up their eyes.
This isn't the first time a fan's tracked them down thanks to YouTube.
After the bar tour wrapped up, Alice decided to stick with the band on their westward journey. She'd keep filming their road trip adventures, capturing this unique chapter with her lens, while heading back to school to finish her last summer break.
Alice pitched an idea: beyond her graduation documentary, she'd create a video diary of the One Day Kings' daily life—little moments and all—following them to the end of their long road tour. Then, she'd upload everything to YouTube, just like countless young musicians do to showcase their talent.
Cliff and Maxim were skeptical. They worried about turning into the next Justin Bieber—not that it's a bad thing, but Scooter's words had stuck with them. The band might not have what it takes to win over the mainstream like Bieber did. Was YouTube the right platform, or could it backfire?
Ronan and Ollie saw it differently. Bieber was just one type of YouTube success, they argued. The platform's diversity offered endless possibilities—every kind of music could find its audience. They should take the leap. They were already at rock bottom anyway; failure wouldn't cost them much.
In the end, Cliff came around. Three votes to one, the YouTube plan was a go.
From then on, Alice started editing and posting short clips to the "One Day Kings" account, sharing the band with the world.
There's the video of them playing "Born This Way" at the Full Moon Party, funny little moments from the road trip, heated debates during practice, and chill times when the guys play games to unwind.
Alice has truly captured this journey on film.
"Kings on the Road."
That's what she named the series. Sorted by date, averaging two or three updates a week, it's not about quantity but quality. In a short time, it's racked up decent numbers—a sign the One Day Kings are embarking on a brand-new adventure.