331-333

Chapter 331: Hard to Put Into Words 

As they grew up, Max didn’t cling to Ronan’s side or keep him tied to his hip. Instead, he let Ronan venture out and chase his adventures. It wasn’t because Max stopped worrying about him—it was because Max understood that the most beautiful parts of life come from those fleeting, vibrant moments, not from prolonged suffering. 

Dreams have a way of painting life with brighter colors. 

First, it was Ronan. Then, it was Alice. Step by step, Max protected his younger brother and sister in his own quiet way. All these years, Alice had never really stopped to think about it, but now it all became clear, the pieces falling into place in her mind. 

But Max didn’t answer directly. “Alice, if you truly love Ronan, you should see how happy he is right now. That’s our Ronan. And in the same way, Ronan and I want to see the brightest, most radiant Alice.” 

Alice bit her lip, lost in her thoughts, then looked up at Max. “And what about you?” 

What about Max? 

What about Max’s dreams? His life? His own existence? What was he supposed to do? 

Alice stared at Max, stubborn and unyielding, waiting for an answer. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “And Ronan? Does Ronan know?” 

Max stayed silent. 

“Hey! Coopers! What’re you guys whispering about?” Ronan’s tussle with Ollie was finally over, and he came barreling toward them like he’d just stepped off a plane, slinging an arm around both Max and Alice’s shoulders. 

Alice wanted to snap at Ronan for his terrible timing—couldn’t he read the room? But when she looked up, she caught his calm eyes, a faint trace of sorrow tucked deep within them, complex and hard to put into words. 

In that moment, Alice understood. How could Ronan not know? 

Max and Ronan always had their own secrets, a bond that ran deeper than she could touch. To Alice, Max—who was five years older—felt almost like a father figure, distant and unfamiliar. A lot of what she knew about Max came through Ronan, the bridge between them. So while she might not know Max’s thoughts, there was no way Ronan didn’t. 

Looking at the tangled emotions in Ronan’s eyes, Alice suddenly realized there was more going on behind the scenes—secrets not just from Max, but from Ronan too. Both her brothers had shielded her, just as Max had always protected Ronan. Ronan, in turn, was protecting her. 

All this time, she’d been the one sheltered. 

Alice couldn’t help but recall Max’s earlier question: “Are you okay?” Max genuinely wanted her to let go of her burdens, to chase her dreams and live a vibrant life. The thought warmed her heart, a gentle wave of emotion rippling through her chest. 

Caught off guard, Alice’s eyes stung, her emotions threatening to spill over. 

But she reined them in, refusing to press Max further. Instead, she elbowed Ronan in protest. “I’m a girl, you know! You can’t just lean on me like that—I’ll topple over!” 

Her voice carried a slight nasal tone, betraying her feelings, but a smile tugged at her lips. She caught the subtle relief in Ronan’s eyes, and they shared a silent understanding. 

Ronan lowered his gaze, hiding the swell of emotions within. 

Memories buried deep in his mind began to surface, seeping through slowly. The deep bond between the Cooper siblings had been forged through countless storms, quietly taking root over time. Tonight, it all came rushing out. Some memories were vivid, others hazy, too tangled to fully unravel just yet. 

But Ronan could sense it—the profound connection between the Cooper siblings was built on weathered trust and protection, an unbreakable bond etched into their souls. Even if a new soul had taken root in him, those lingering fragments still wove themselves into his being. The steady, powerful beat of his heart was proof of that. 

If he couldn’t escape it… then he’d embrace it. 

Maybe this was fate. Maybe this was the god of destiny making up for the regrets and losses of his past life. 

Ronan lifted his eyes, the spark returning to them. The fleeting emotions were tucked away again, as if nothing had happened. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Ronan declared with mock indignation, glancing between Max and Alice. “What are you two scheming about behind my back? Are we talking late-night snack menus? We agreed on steak, right? Let’s stick to the deal!” 

Alice ground her teeth, exasperated. “We were talking about you behind your back, and all you can think about is steak?” 

Ronan didn’t miss a beat, completely unfazed. “You’re talking about me because you care—so what’s there to worry about? But right now, I’m starving. I’m in desperate need of a juicy, dripping steak to soothe my soul. Otherwise, I might not sleep tonight. So, what’s more important?” 

Alice was speechless, caught between frustration and amusement. Ronan’s bright grin stirred the emotions swirling in her mind again, and her eyes grew misty. She quickly looked away to hide it. 

Max, ever patient, chimed in, “Steak it is. Ronan’s been working hard all day—he deserves a treat. Alice, you joining us?” 

Alice pouted, trying to mask her feelings with a grumble. “No way. You guys want me to get fat or something?” 

“No, no, no,” Ronan said with a grin. “We want you to be healthy. If anyone dares say otherwise, just let me and Max know. We’ll teach them some manners!” He flexed his bicep for emphasis, earning a dramatic eye-roll from Alice. 

Ollie, who’d caught up by now, joined in with a cheerful smile. “Count me in! Alice, you’re perfect as you are—no need to worry. If anyone gives you grief, Ronan and I will show them you’re not someone to mess with.” 

How did the conversation even get here? 

Alice’s head was spinning, a mix of laughter and tears. She tilted her chin up defiantly. “What if it’s a guy like Dwayne Johnson?” 

Ollie froze, at a loss for words. 

Ronan, however, piped up, “Alice, so you’re into the Dwayne Johnson type?” 

Alice blinked, then roared like a lioness. “Ronan Cooper! Do you even hear yourself?” 

Ronan clapped his hands over his ears, muttering innocently, “Just a joke! Geez, so sensitive. Unless…” He trailed off under Alice’s murderous glare, suddenly fascinated by the corridor’s ornate carpet. “Wow, those roses look so lifelike.” 

Chapter 332: Waiting for the Slap in the Face 

Buzzzz! 

Buzzzz! 

Inside the quiet limousine, the faint hum of tension rippled through the air like invisible heatwaves. The constant buzz seemed to echo in their eardrums, disrupting their sense of reality until they momentarily forgot where they were. 

“Ah!” Cliff shuddered suddenly, snapping back to awareness. He blinked at the familiar palm trees passing by outside the window, confused once again about their location. When he turned his head, he saw his bandmates sitting quietly in their seats. 

Ollie was tugging at his bowtie, struggling to breathe as if it were too tight, his gaze drifting into space. Maxim was checking his reflection in his silver cigarette case, worried his perfectly groomed mustache might be flawed. 

And Ronan? 

Ronan sat calmly, gazing out the window, lost in thought. Whatever he was thinking was impossible to guess, but his peaceful demeanor didn’t lie—it was like he was on vacation, completely out of sync with the tense atmosphere inside the car. 

“Ronan?” Cliff’s voice cracked unexpectedly, startling even himself. 

Ronan turned toward him and noticed Ollie still fussing with his bowtie. “Do you want to loosen it a bit?” he asked. 

Ollie gave a tight-lipped smile and shook his head. “I’m okay.” 

Without another word, Ronan reached out and straightened Ollie’s crooked bowtie. “If it gets uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to adjust it. We don’t want you passing out on the red carpet,” he joked lightly. 

Only Maxim chuckled at the comment. 

Putting down his makeshift mirror, Maxim glanced at the tense Cliff and Ollie and teased, “If you guys are this nervous, you might just faint if we actually win tonight. Relax! It’s not the end of the world—don’t act like you’ve never seen the spotlight before.” 

The band, One Day King, was currently en route in a stretch limo to the Staples Center. Tonight was the Grammy Awards. They were about to step onto one of the biggest stages of their careers. Anxiety twisted in their stomachs like a tightly wound spring. 

Alice, observing Maxim's carefree attitude, couldn't resist teasing, “And what about you? Aren’t you even a little excited if we win?” 

“Not at all,” Maxim replied without hesitation. “I’m planning to conquer the world tonight. Just wait till they see how dashing I look. If we win, I’ll shine so bright on that stage, it’ll be blinding. This is my moment—I’m fully prepared.” 

Wasn’t this supposed to be the band’s moment? 

Alice was about to make a snarky remark, but one glance at Ronan made her swallow her words. Still, she couldn’t help but smile. 

Ignoring Maxim’s peacocking, Ronan turned to Cliff. “So? You called my name—what’s up?” 

“…Honestly, I forgot,” Cliff admitted. His nerves were so overwhelming he couldn’t think straight. “Aren’t you nervous?” 

“Of course I am,” Ronan said without hesitation. “It’s the Grammys—how could I not be? But I’m just better at hiding it. That’s exactly why tonight, we need to give it everything we’ve got. We’ve waited far too long for this.” 

He paused, letting his gaze drift across his teammates—Cliff, Maxim, Ollie—and Alice, who was accompanying them. 

“A lot of people are waiting to see us fail. That’s why we have to prove them wrong. Turn that anxiety into fuel.” 

Ronan’s lips curled into a calm, confident smile. 

Meanwhile, before the Grammy Awards… 

Scooter Braun had openly expressed his deep disappointment with this year’s Grammy nominations during an interview. He felt the Grammys had been “tainted” and that the nominations were laughable at best. 

To the media, it just looked like Scooter was lashing out because Justin Bieber didn’t get nominated. That alone made for juicy headlines. But the members of One Day King knew better—they could tell his comments were aimed at them. 

Their meteoric rise—from opening for Bruno Mars to receiving Grammy nominations—all within three months, had caught Scooter off guard. He missed the chance to shut them down early, and now they were everywhere. It infuriated him. 

After all, he was the one who had once said this band had no future and needed to be crushed before they gained traction. 

Now? They were a Grammy-nominated act—his words had come back to slap him in the face. 

The nominations blindsided him, and by the time he realized what was happening, it was too late. The window to sabotage their success had already closed. The mix of shock, humiliation, and rage boiled inside him like a volcano ready to erupt. 

The worst part? Scooter didn’t even know how One Day King had risen so fast. Was it Bruno Mars? Atlantic Records? Or some hidden powerhouse behind the scenes? With no clear target to attack, he could only throw shade vaguely—criticizing the Grammys instead of the band directly. After all, anyone was allowed to have opinions about the nominations. 

Scooter was waiting for them to flop tonight. He was certain they’d go home empty-handed and that their performance would be overshadowed by the stars. Every year there were dark horses—bands that blew up then disappeared like falling stars. 

And he wasn’t the only one. Social media was a storm of negativity aimed at One Day King. Even people with no personal beef with them seemed eager to see them fail. 

Yet looking at Ronan’s steady, fearless smile, the band understood his message: 

The best revenge is living well—thriving, smiling, and succeeding in front of those who want to see you fall. 

The more people want to see One Day King crash and burn, the more they need to rise and shine. 

333. Temperature Drop 

The more people wanted to see the “One-Day King” make a fool of himself, the more he had to put on an outstanding performance. The hotter the jealous glares, the more unhinged the curses, the more he had to embrace the spotlight. 

That was the best way to strike back at the haters. 

Nervous? 

Of course Ronan was nervous, but he welcomed that tension. It came from desire, from caring deeply—and he hoped to turn that pressure into motivation. That only fueled his fighting spirit even more. 

Looking at Ronan, brimming with confidence, Cliff straightened his back slightly despite still feeling the nerves. He was ready for the challenge. Ready or not, it didn’t matter anymore—the car had already slowed down. Just around the corner, the Staples Center would come into view. 

Bzzzz! Bzzzz! 

A roaring wave of noise and heat rose from both sides of the road. A massive crowd filled every visible corner, surging like a tide. The sound exploded in a deafening rumble, a wall of frenzied energy that made the entire world tremble slightly. 

It felt like a tsunami. 

“Ahhhhhh!” 

Fans lining the streets stretched as far as the eye could see—five hundred? A thousand? Two thousand? There was no way to count them by sight alone. Every corner overflowed with excited music fans, as if the Staples Center had burst at the seams and spilled its energy into the streets. 

Clearly, they weren’t here specifically for One-Day King. They were here for the countless A-list celebrities attending tonight’s Grammy Awards. But being surrounded by that thunderous crowd, it was easy to get swept up in the moment and feel like the center of the universe. It was overwhelming. It was moving. 

“Ahhhhhh!” 

Cheers continued to surge. 

The car stopped at the venue entrance. A staff member standing by the red carpet opened the door. Maxim was the first to step out with confidence and flair. 

At that moment, the cheers noticeably stalled. The fans were trying to figure out who had just appeared. 

They looked at each other in confusion—no one had a clue. The cheers began to die down. 

Next came Cliff, then Ollie, and finally Ronan. Alice, their manager, joined them as well—she’d be walking the red carpet with the band. 

After all, Alice was a future director. She needed to get used to these kinds of scenes. 

As the whole band stood together, fans were still trying to figure out who they were. Since they had no idea, some even assumed Alice was part of the band. That theory wasn’t rare either. They tried to think of a band made up of four men and one woman. 

Cranberries? Paramore? 

Nope. Neither fit. 

So who were they? 

The cheers and attention continued to cool. The excitement in the air began to settle. A lull swept through the crowd, and the drop in both volume and temperature was stark. Confusion and awkwardness filled the atmosphere. 

Actually, this was pretty common at the Grammys. Every year, the nominee list was filled with unfamiliar names, so it wasn’t unusual for red carpet arrivals to be met with blank stares. Fans simply didn’t recognize them. 

But just because it was normal didn’t mean it felt okay. The sudden chill in the air created a deeply uncomfortable sense of rejection—like a hot slap to the face, triggering the urge to flee. 

Ollie immediately looked at Ronan, his eyes clearly asking, What do we do now? But Maxim had already taken the lead. 

He stepped forward. 

So what if there weren’t any cheers? Wherever Maxim walked, that was the red carpet. He held his head high and walked with confidence, his elegance and charisma easily drawing eyes his way. Then Cliff, after a moment’s hesitation, followed behind. 

Ronan smiled at Ollie and gestured to Alice, and the three of them walked forward side by side. 

Let’s be real—One-Day King wasn’t a popular band. Their fanbase was small, and the crowd at the red carpet wasn’t there for them. So it wasn’t surprising there were no cheers when they appeared. The audience had no obligation to be polite. 

Of course, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. Standing in front of a crowd that had clearly lost interest, the atmosphere felt awkward—like an uninvited guest stumbling into a private party. Everyone was staring, but those stares were filled with unfamiliarity. It was deeply uncomfortable. 

It wasn’t easy to face. 

But Ronan was prepared. Tonight, One-Day King wasn’t here for applause. They were here to make a statement. Just because there were no cheers now didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any after their performance. 

So, Ronan took a step forward. 

Ollie still looked uncertain. His movements were a bit stiff. 

Ronan leaned over and said quietly, “Just imagine—they're all naked watermelons.” 

“Pfft.” Ollie couldn’t help but laugh. That cracked the tension, and he visibly relaxed. 

One-Day King had played plenty of gigs to near-empty rooms. They’d been forged in the fire of those small, quiet stages. What caught them off guard this time was the contrast—the massive emotional whiplash from the Grammy scene. But once they took a breath, it actually felt oddly familiar. 

No need to be nervous. 

Just be yourself. 

And that’s what Ollie did. His steps grew more stable. Even under the intense gaze of the crowd, his heartbeat settled. In fact, compared to the overwhelming cheers earlier, this quieter moment somehow felt more comfortable—more like home. 

A sad truth, but a real one. 

Then, suddenly— 

“AHHHHHH!” 

A scream pierced the quiet. From the crowd came an unbelievably loud and powerful voice, cutting through the murmuring discussions like a shockwave. 

Everyone turned to look. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t an emergency. 

“RONAN! AHHHHHH!” 

The scream erupted again—someone deep in the crowd, screaming his name with all their might. Then another voice joined in, shouting from the bottom of their lungs— 

“One-Day King!” 

The name was a mouthful, so the shout didn’t roll off the tongue, but it still landed like a bomb in the middle of the crowd. 

Wait—who? 

...