Gush, gush.
Gush, gush!
The air was boiling. A steamy heat filled the Verizon Center, as if summoning the peak of summer back to early autumn in Washington. Drenched in sweat, people danced wildly, leaped freely, and sang with abandon, basking in scorching sunlight for a party that stretched to the edge of the world.
The warm-up set was over. Thirty minutes felt like a dream—standing atop the clouds, then plummeting back down in free fall.
Exhilarating!
One Day Kings had nailed their mission and returned victorious. As they stepped off the stage, every pore in Ronan's body seemed to burst open. He was soaked, like he'd just been fished out of a pool. Sweat dripped from his drenched hair, and he felt both drained and electrified—
Yes, electrified.
After pouring everything out, his chest and mind felt clear. Joy and happiness surged through every vein, mingling with exhaustion so deep he could barely lift his feet. But the comfort and thrill in his heart were undeniable, and a grin kept breaking across his face.
Standing center stage was like standing on Everest's peak, taking in boundless vistas. The feeling was pure bliss.
Straight ahead, Ronan spotted Alice.
She was hoisting her camera by the backstage tunnel, capturing the precious footage in real time, welcoming the triumphant band back.
Alice's lips curved up uncontrollably. Like the crowd, she'd felt the heat of their passion up close—close enough to nearly singe her soul. Her eyes welled up slightly, a wordless emotion swelling in her chest. It wasn't just the performance's massive success—it was the stage's dazzling glow.
Ronan shone because of the stage, and the stage sparkled because of him. He was born for it—this was his world!
Then she saw Ronan laughing with his mouth wide open, no care for appearances. Shoulders slouched, he ambled over lazily, drenched in sweat. Alice wrinkled her nose, dodging as he approached, but she was half a beat too slow—he caught her.
"Ah! Ronan!" She shoved him away, full of mock disgust, resisting with her whole body. "You're soaked!" His clothes probably stank by now. Plus, the camera was a mess—shaky and out of focus, a total disaster!
"Hahaha!" Ronan cackled like a prankster who'd won, his eyes dancing with mischief. But a second later, he widened them in dramatic protest. "I'm starving. God, I can barely stand—I could eat a cow right now. No, two!"
"Ronan!"
"Ronan!"
Cliff called out. Maxim called out. Nearby staff joined in too. The whole world seemed to be shouting his name, voices overlapping in protest: One minute they're basking in the glow of the warm-up set, and the next he's talking food?
Was he seriously ruining the moment?
But Alice knew Ronan too well. Amid the rising chatter, she paused, then burst into bright laughter.
Classic Ronan.
Then Ollie's voice squeezed through the chaos, "Me too, me too!" Before he could finish, thuds rang out—followed by his yelps. "Ow! Ow! Who hit me… Help!" The scene was pure pandemonium.
The warm-up had been an unbelievable success, and every staff member at the Verizon Center knew how rare that was.
A last-minute band, less than a week to prepare, nonstop rehearsals day and night… Everyone was on edge, sleep-deprived and hangry, teetering on the brink of losing it. But—they did it! Not only did they pull it off, they smashed it beyond belief.
A sense of achievement and satisfaction swelled in their chests, but it couldn't outshine the wild, radiant happiness—the true high of a concert.
Backstage, everyone without a task swarmed over, joining the bandmates they'd suffered and laughed with over the past few days, cheering together.
Buzz, buzz, buzz!
Buzz, buzz, buzz!
Backstage erupted in noise as a flood of people poured in. The hot, rolling air swept along with them, faintly carrying the searing energy from the concert floor. Front to back, it all blended into one seamless wave.
"Haha, I like this band!" Kane Williams roared with laughter from the rocking standing section in the dense crowd.
The warm-up was done, but the audience was just getting started. Heat pulsed through the venue, every flushed cheek glowing with excitement and joy. Eyes met by chance, sparkling with light.
Sophie Viellard, standing beside him, laughed too. She didn't say much—just raised her hands high, catching the lingering notes in the air, swaying freely as if the rhythm still pulsed through her.
Kane's spirits soared, his eyes shining as he shouted, "You saw it, right? The lead singer's face when he introduced them at the end: 'Welcome to our kingdom—we're your One Day Kings. No need to kneel, just party!'"
"No need to kneel, just rise up."
Sophie jumped, hyped, yelling back at Kane, "No need to kneel! Party hard!" It was like a rallying cry.
In an instant, the crowd around them joined in, arms raised, shouting the same slogan. Their shared excitement sparked screams they couldn't hold back. Every cell buzzed with that surging energy, like they were standing at the mouth of an erupting volcano:
"No need to kneel! Party hard!"
As the warm-up neared its end, the atmosphere kept boiling. The crowd lost themselves in it, swept up in raw passion and fervor, forgetting this was just the opener. Then, in the heaviest moment, Ronan dropped the simplest, most perfect intro for the band.
"One Day Kings!"
It echoed the playful self-mockery of skipping intros at the start, proving their belief with action—
Performance defined them!
They were One Day Kings—the rulers of tonight's stage!