Boom!
Boom boom boom!
The reverberating heat wave was centered on the Old Blacksmith Bar, spreading outward. The vibrating air reached the ears, and a tingling, scorching sensation could be felt slowly spreading on the skin.
There was a slightly humid mist in the midsummer night air, mixed with the scent of alcohol and a faint blend of cigarette smoke and coffee. It hung in the air, creating an atmosphere of laziness and comfort that made people gently sway with the breeze, lost in their own thoughts.
But what was this?
Unbelievable!
This was the most ordinary and normal scene on Bourbon Street over the past fourteen hours. The Old Blacksmith Bar had been radiating enthusiasm and igniting New Orleans.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Yet, if it appeared after five o'clock in the morning, it immediately stood out from the crowd
It was as though a fireball had streaked across the night sky, casting brilliant light that illuminated the entire sky, making all the stars dim in an instant.
So, what was happening?
Duncan couldn't believe his eyes or ears. Without thinking, he found himself walking toward the bar.
And Duncan wasn't the only one.
"What's going on?"
"Who's performing? It looks incredible."
"Is there a big-name artist at this hour?"
"Well, there are hidden talents in the full moon party. It wouldn't be surprising if a talented musician emerged at this time."
"I'm curious."
"What's happening?"
"Let's go check it out."
In small groups, those with some energy left began to approach. Even as the full moon party entered its final stage, many young people were ready to continue partying until the very end, eager to witness the spectacle of the night's climax. It seemed like the perfect time to rejoin the festivities.
The crowd started to flow back slowly, preparing for a new surge of volcanic eruption.
At this moment, there was no need to wait in line at the entrance of the Old Blacksmith Bar. The doors were wide open, and the audience could freely come and go.
Empty wine bottles, garbage bags, fruit peels, and wrappers scattered on the floor painted a picture of a wild night. The aftermath of the chaos carried an air of desolation and loneliness amidst the previous frenzy.
The enthusiasm had dwindled, and the loneliness of the post-peak decline was scattered like litter everywhere. A breeze stirred, causing the red plastic bags to perform a solo tango.
With no accompaniment and no audience, they danced alone, yet this seemingly mundane scene made the noise from the bar stand out even more.
Duncan easily found his way back to the Old Blacksmith Bar. The warm and humid steam washed over his face, like stepping into a sauna.
The thick vapor rolled across his skin, instantly clearing his mind. It wasn't so much a wake-up call as it was.
"I must be crazy."
Duncan thought to himself. His brain felt like mush, and he lacked the time and energy to make sense of his actions. Everything he did seemed to defy rational explanation.
His intuition controlled his body's movements, like a puppeteer, while his soul observed from a higher vantage point.
Duncan was certain that he was exhausted, and his steps were heavy, almost dragging on the floor. He desperately needed rest and should have been on his way home.
So why was he now entering the bar once again? Why couldn't he suppress his inexplicable curiosity? How had he ended up here?
Leave. He needed to leave.
Duncan instructed his brain, but his reflexes were sluggish, like a malfunctioning robot without a working brake. His limbs hesitated for a moment before halting and preparing to move forward. Just exit the bar and quell this absurd curiosity.
However, a familiar voice reached his ears—clear and gentle, with a touch of morning-hour magnetism. It played like the strings of a cello, with the moonlight dancing between the strings.
The unique texture held his ears in a firm grip, while an invisible thread effortlessly caught the rhythm of his heart.
By the time he realized it, his eyes were fixed on the stage.
It was them!
The band!
"King for a Day."
Duncan could still recall their name. The band he had stumbled upon at the "Noon" bar just two nights ago had made a lasting impression.
When he came to the Full Moon Party tonight, Duncan had secretly hoped to see the King for a Day band perform again.
After all, bar performances and stage performances were vastly different. In a bar, the environment and the patrons' focus were divided. It was impossible to fully appreciate the charm of a performance.
But a stage performance was a pure and immersive experience, with the audience fully engrossed, and the performers were the center of attention.
These were two completely distinct situations.
Duncan was curious. What kind of performance would the band deliver? This was one of the highlights of his expectations for the Full Moon Party.
Unfortunately, there was no performance schedule for the Full Moon Party, and the band's name was absent from the flyers. It was an entirely spontaneous celebration for the attendees.
As a result, Duncan never had a chance to find his target. He told himself that perhaps the band wouldn't perform at all tonight, or maybe he just didn't have the luck to witness their live performance again.
In life, some things could remain regrets, or they could turn into serendipitous moments that illuminated the night.
His eyes sparkled!
Duncan's mind suddenly snapped to attention. He was truly awake, fully awake this time. His discovery had sparked excitement and anticipation he had been longing for. His brain had been awakened, and his steps quickened with impatience.
It was as if the puppet had regained control of his body, the connection between his brain and limbs had been restored, and his brisk strides found their rhythm once more. He blended into the surging crowd ahead, approaching the stage, his eyes beaming with genuine delight.
One. Two. Three.
Ten. Twenty. Thirty.
Gradually, the Old Blacksmith Bar seemed to become crowded once more. It wasn't obvious overcrowding, but rather a gradual increase in the number of people.
The remaining space was slowly being filled, and the hot air grew denser, clinging to the skin. Sticky sweat continued to slide down cheeks, and the increasingly rapid heartbeat defied the night's darkness.