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🕑 Added 2025-08-18 17:36:42 +0000 UTCChapter 337 – Unleashing the Seal
“Ahhhh!” “Ahhhh!”
Lucy completely lost it. All the emotions she had been suppressing finally erupted the moment Ronan turned and walked away. Her voice couldn’t form words anymore—it had all shut down—so all she could do was scream. Loud, wild, and without any restraint.
“Ahhhh!”
Her scream was so intense, it radiated with an almost explosive energy, making Ronan stop in his tracks. He turned around in shock, eyes wide as he looked back.
But Lucy was way past the point of no return. Her fists were clenched, but she couldn’t stop herself. She just kept screaming at Ronan like someone completely unhinged.
“Ahhhh!” “Ahhhh!”
Ronan paused for a moment, then burst out laughing. His dazzling smile lit up in the golden glow of the setting sun, so brilliant and captivating that Lucy's voice instantly caught in her throat. Her eyes went wide, and she hiccuped—as if her heart had just skipped a beat.
Ronan’s eyes narrowed into joyful slits, the light in his expression warming everyone around him. Then, without hesitation, he turned and continued walking.
“AHHHHH!”
It was like a seal had been broken. Lucy’s screams grew even more frenzied—yes, even more insane. She thought she had already reached her limit, but apparently, there was a level of madness beyond madness. It felt like her limits were being shattered again and again, pushing her toward some new, unknown extreme.
And she wasn’t alone. Even Ella, who normally kept her cool, couldn't hold back anymore. She joined in with crazed screams of her own.
Ella had always liked Ronan, but she hadn’t been through the emotional rollercoaster that Lucy had. Still, in that moment, she completely understood the frenzy. It rushed in like a tidal wave, overwhelming every ounce of reason, breaking through all mental restraints, and lighting a fire in her brain.
The very next second, Ella didn’t care about appearances anymore. She jumped and screamed and cheered like nobody was watching. Logic? Out the window. She was all in on this wild ride.
Lucy and Ella locked eyes—and instantly recognized the same emotion burning in each other. Without a word, they both let out another round of screams in perfect harmony.
And they weren’t the only ones. The rest of the fans and audience members around them got caught up in the same storm. Seeing Ronan up close, feeling the intensity of his presence, their hearts skipped a beat and their blood began to boil.
There was only one way to release that overwhelming surge of energy—scream. And jump. That’s how the crowd exploded into life.
This kind of wild energy was incredibly contagious. Even people who didn’t know “One-Day Kings,” or didn’t care about the band, couldn’t help but get swept up in it.
It turned into a full-blown party.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
Any trace of the low energy from two minutes ago had vanished. The sound, the heat, the pulse of excitement all kept rising. The red carpet was burning with anticipation.
Even those who weren’t fans of “One-Day Kings” were fired up. After all, it was the Grammys—and that kind of atmosphere was impossible to resist.
“Ahhhh!” “Ahhhh!”
Screams and cheers merged into one unstoppable wave, and the nonstop clicks of camera shutters made the air itself feel like it was sizzling. The red carpet was now in full swing.
From fans to press, everyone could feel it—the impact of the Grammys' biggest underdog storming the scene.
They might not match the popularity of top-tier superstars, but today, “One-Day Kings” were shining under the Grammy spotlight. This was their moment.
“Ha.”
Ronan’s smile grew even wider. Feeling the passion of the crowd up close wrapped his heart in a warm glow. It felt like if he just pushed off the ground, he could take flight.
That joy, that lightness—it was a unique kind of happiness, different from being on stage.
With every step he took, it felt like he was bouncing on springs. He could almost hear the boing-boing sound beneath his feet. For a second, it was like he was a kid again—thrilled by the simplest things and feeling the most honest emotions.
For just a brief moment, Ronan felt like he was standing at the very center of the world.
Even if it was just an illusion, it was enough to make his heart soar.
“Ronan?” “Ronan!”
He heard someone calling his name again—but this time, the voices sounded familiar, not from the crowd. He paused and looked around.
Then he saw Ollie looking flustered, and Cliff staring blankly ahead.
The chaotic scene had thrown them off, and they had no idea how to handle it. Ronan had hoped they’d interact with the crowd too—but clearly, Ollie and Cliff hadn’t figured out how yet. Maxim, on the other hand, was thriving.
Ollie looked like he needed help.
Ronan quickly made his way back, gently grabbed Cliff to steady him, then bumped shoulders with Ollie and whispered in his ear, “Ollie, follow my lead.”
In the chaos, Ronan’s eyes darted around until he spotted Alice quietly trailing a short distance behind Cliff. He relaxed a bit—but then he realized: Where was Maxim?
“Maxim!”
He knew shouting on the red carpet wasn’t exactly proper etiquette, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
He kept his voice somewhat controlled, not wanting to cause a scene. But unfortunately, that also meant Maxim didn’t hear him at all.
Maxim was completely lost in the crowd’s cheers, oblivious to everything else.
That’s when Ollie let out a thunderous yell—“MAXIM!”
A literal shockwave.
His voice boomed across the entire venue like a cannon blast, silencing the crowd for a split second.
Since the cheering hadn’t reached full roar yet, Ollie’s shout cut through like a knife. Everyone froze.
Then, with all eyes suddenly on him, Maxim stopped. He turned around and realized he’d gone too far ahead. He quickly scurried back to his group, taking small, awkward steps that betrayed his panic.
HAHAHAHA!
Ollie first, then Maxim, and then that sudden hush in the crowd—it all came together in a comically perfect moment. Laughter broke out all around, even from the reporters.
Looks like “One-Day Kings” were definitely leaving an unforgettable impression.
Taking the road less traveled, huh? Are they going for the “comedy band” angle now?
Maxim and Ollie both looked a bit embarrassed, but under the spotlight, they didn’t say anything. They quickly smoothed it over and regrouped.
Seeing this, Alice stopped short to give them some space, and the reporters started shouting excitedly.
Episode 338: Group Interview
“Over here, look this way!”
“Wave at the camera!”
“All four of you, look over here.”
“Yes, together—group shot!”
“Everyone, shout ‘Grammy’!”
“Give us even bigger smiles!”
“Can you strike a pose? Make it bigger! Even bigger!”
The bizarre requests from photographers came flooding in from all directions, surrounding them like a whirlwind. It was honestly hard not to laugh—what exactly did they mean by “bigger movements”? Were they asking for someone to do a dramatic eagle pose? Or maybe a one-legged crane stance with wings? Did the reporters not notice that Cliff was already doing the splits? And they still wanted more dramatic poses?
“Cliff!” If Maxim hadn’t realized that Cliff’s posture had nothing to do with style or grace, he wouldn’t have stopped him—otherwise, this could’ve turned into a full-blown disaster.
Cliff honestly wasn’t thinking much. He basically followed every request from the photographers, and with the noise and chaos around him, he didn’t really have time to question what they were asking. He just kept instinctively striking different poses.
That moment alone revealed how inexperienced the “One-Day Kings” really were. It was their very first major award show appearance—and it was the GRAMMYs. No warm-up events like the American Music Awards or People’s Choice Awards. Naturally, they made some rookie mistakes.
Realizing his pose looked more awkward than cool, Cliff quickly stood back up straight and awkwardly lifted his chin. He didn’t do anything fancy, but the tense jawline gave away just how nervous he felt. Thankfully, now that the whole band was together, they seemed more grounded and a little less anxious.
“Pose!”
What kind of pose?
“A signature One-Day Kings pose!”
...Excuse me?
“Could you guys do a signature pose for the One-Day Kings before we take the picture?”
After some quick back-and-forth, Ronan finally understood what they meant—and he was baffled. Since when did they need a signature pose? They weren’t a K-pop boy band! Why on earth would they have something like that? Did this reporter show up to the wrong red carpet?
But standing on the red carpet wasn’t the place for debate. No time for clarification or arguing, even if you were utterly confused.
So... should they just ignore it?
Ronan glanced at his bandmates, silently asking for their input. They all had the same amused-yet-resigned expressions. Still, there was a playfulness in their eyes—they didn’t seem to mind.
But seriously... were they really doing this?
Ronan hesitated.
That’s when Maxim jumped in. “Let’s just hold up one finger. It means ‘One Day’ and also ‘Number One.’ Easy enough.”
Then he added, “Index finger, not the middle one.”
...Seriously?
Were they really brainstorming a band pose on the spot?
“Why not a thumbs up?” Cliff protested.
Maxim rolled his eyes. “Too cliché.”
Cliff was momentarily speechless. Then Ollie chuckled and nudged Ronan, silently asking if he was on board. Ronan didn’t protest anymore. He figured—if K-pop idols could do it, they could pull it off just this once. After all, they’d never do it again. It was far too embarrassing.
Maxim went first.
Ollie followed.
Ronan and Cliff exchanged a look, then raised their right index fingers straight ahead to form the “Number One” gesture. They turned to face different directions—left, center, and right—while silver flashes exploded around them like a blinding waterfall of light.
The second the pose ended, an intense wave of awkwardness and regret washed over them. Their fingers and toes curled from secondhand embarrassment. The cringe was real.
Ronan made a break for it, walking off quickly. Ollie followed without hesitation. The two of them marched away, leaving Maxim and Cliff still stuck in the moment. They glanced at each other—and burst out laughing.
Oh god. What the hell had they just done?
“HAHAHAHA!”
It was the perfect mix of humiliation and hilarity. Ronan and Ollie couldn’t stop laughing.
Cliff noticed they were leaving and ran after them. Only Maxim stayed behind, basking in the camera flashes like a true diva. He eventually caught up just as the band reached the press interview zone, ready to start interviews.
Alice passed through the mixed-media zone and waited at the end of the red carpet, keeping an eye on how the band’s interviews were going.
Maxim, thinking he was about to get roasted for soaking in the spotlight alone, looked a little surprised when nobody said a word. Ronan and Ollie were deliberately pretending that whole embarrassing moment had never happened.
Seeing that, Maxim wisely decided not to bring it up either. He quickly turned his focus to the reporters with a polite smile.
Click. Click-click-click.
Even in the interview zone, photographers nearby kept snapping pictures. But it wasn’t nearly as chaotic as the red carpet. Visibility was better, the noise had died down, and things felt calmer.
“So, what are your thoughts on attending the GRAMMYs for the first time?”
It was an award show, after all—they tried to keep the atmosphere upbeat and celebratory. The first question was mild and generic, meant to give the interviewee room to speak freely and keep things light.
The mics were handed out, one for each of them. Ollie didn’t really want one—he hadn’t planned on talking—but there were four mics, and Ronan handed one to him anyway.
They exchanged glances, trying to decide who should answer first.
Maxim looked eager. He felt confident he could handle it—after all, this wasn’t his first media rodeo. But both Cliff and Ollie turned to Ronan. And then, so did Maxim, though his expression was a little different—he was silently asking Ronan if he could have a shot.
Eye contact isn’t always easy to interpret, but Maxim’s message was pretty clear: I’m ready too. If you hand it to me, I got this.
Still, in such a short moment, they couldn’t have a full discussion. Cliff and Ollie were clearly counting on Ronan. And the reporters were waiting—they couldn’t stall any longer.
So Ronan picked up the mic and started speaking.
Maxim sighed and made a face like he was a little disappointed—he really believed he could’ve done a good job. And honestly, it wasn’t even a hard question.
Chapter 339 – A Rookie's Inexperience
"May I ask, what are your thoughts on attending the Grammys for the first time?"
It was just a simple, routine question. But One Day King didn’t respond immediately. The band members glanced at each other, silently debating who should speak. Just from this tiny moment, it was clear how inexperienced both the band and Alice were—they lacked practice dealing with the media in public settings.
Atlantic Records overlooked this detail. Normally, a professional agent would’ve stepped in to handle these small moments. But One Day King had a special situation, and the company hadn’t accounted for this very obvious—yet easily overlooked—gap.
After a brief exchange of glances, Ronan finally broke the silence.
"We’re trying to relax, but I think we’ve already exposed ourselves. I swear, we really are a band from Los Angeles."
One second. Two seconds. And then—laughter.
The reporters burst into chuckles. Ronan’s joke was clearly self-deprecating—like a small-town band trying their best to act composed, only to give themselves away. His emphasis on being from LA only made the contrast funnier.
Light, yet clever—it was the perfect touch of humor.
Then Ronan turned to Maxime and gave him a quick nod, signaling that it was his turn.
Maxime’s eyes immediately lit up. He grabbed the mic and said excitedly:
"Being at the Grammys for the first time is an incredible honor for us. We’ve always dreamed of this moment—to stand on the Grammy stage and share our music with a wider audience. So right now, we’re both nervous and thrilled, but mostly… we’re just really happy."
His response was a bit shaky, but he managed to get his thoughts across. It was polite, well-mannered—basically a textbook official answer. Not bad at all.
Maxime was clearly pleased with himself. But as he glanced around, he noticed something odd. Even after his well-delivered answer, the reporters only gave polite nods, then quickly turned their attention back to Ronan.
Maxime paused for a moment, confused.
What’s going on? Did they not like my answer? Was it boring?
It wasn’t the reaction he had hoped for.
Still, instead of getting flustered, Maxime looked back at Ronan, trying to figure out what made his responses so different.
"Did the band expect the Grammy nomination?" a reporter asked next—diving a bit deeper now.
So how did Ronan respond?
"Only in our dreams." With just four words, he nailed it.
It was a clever play on words—on the surface, it meant exactly what it said: it had been their dream. But it also implied they never saw it coming and only dared to hope for something like this in their sleep. Combined with Ronan’s deadpan tone and serious expression, the humor hit just right.
A few chuckles. Then more laughter.
And Ronan continued:
"We hoped, we wished, we prayed. We crossed our index and middle fingers every day. We even spent the better part of a year going to church. I think… this time, God finally heard us. Now we’re seriously considering adding weekly prayer to our schedule."
It was sincere, yet playful. Clearly, they weren’t devout, but they jokingly credited their nomination to prayer. It wasn’t offensive—more like light teasing. It also tied back to his earlier joke, giving the entire interview a fun, engaging tone.
Maxime half-understood what was happening. He wasn’t quite sure how Ronan pulled it off, but he could feel the charm in Ronan’s humor. As he replayed his own response in his head, something started to click… but not completely.
Clearly, handling interviews wasn’t easy. Controlling the flow of a press conference? Even harder.
Once Ronan finished, he turned to Maxime again, silently asking if he wanted to answer the next question.
Maxime hesitated before saying:
"We honestly didn’t expect the nomination at all. When it was announced, we were on tour—in Bristol, actually, somewhere with such bad internet we didn’t even hear about it online. We found out through the newspaper. So yeah, it was totally unexpected…"
Maxime was still talking when he suddenly felt Cliff lightly nudging his arm, trying to get his attention. Annoyed, Maxime shot him a glare, but Cliff just kept making subtle eye movements.
And right at that awkward moment, the reporters had already moved on to the next question, cutting Maxime off—which made him even more frustrated. He glared at Cliff again.
Cliff, exasperated, leaned in and whispered:
"You’re dissing Bristol?"
Maxime blinked. "Of course not—"
"But what about the reporters?" Cliff quickly added.
A lightbulb went off in Maxime’s head. He turned back to the reporters and noticed something different in their expressions.
Even though he hadn’t meant to insult Bristol, the way he phrased it could easily be interpreted that way. Worse, some might take it further and think he was looking down on the less developed, more rural parts of the country. That could spell trouble.
He hadn’t meant it—but that didn’t matter. People interpret things however they want.
As a public figure, you can never let your guard down around the media. Every word can be twisted in countless ways.
Now Maxime was even more annoyed with himself. Then he remembered—didn’t Ronan also make a point about the band not being “country bumpkins”? So how did he say it without anyone raising an eyebrow?
The reporters didn’t seem offended by Ronan’s wording at all. No one jumped on it.
Before Maxime could dwell on it further, the next question came:
"So, how did the band feel when you got the nomination?"
Ronan answered again:
"Ecstatic. Like, dangerously close to losing our minds." He held up his free hand dramatically. "Honestly, we just hope no one ever sees footage of what we looked like at that moment—it’d haunt our careers forever. Better to leave it unsaid."
The room erupted with laughter.
Witty, self-aware, and hilarious.
Ronan’s way of expressing the band’s excitement was endearing, not embarrassing. It made the group feel likable and human. Even better—his playful tone also subtly hyped up the importance of the Grammys. A very clever move.
