The lights in the entire venue gradually dimmed, leaving Ronan bathed in a solitary spotlight.
The air crackled with intensity, the sound echoing in the ears. The surge of blood continued to pound in their eardrums, but gradually, darkness enveloped the world, as if a tide was consuming it, steadily encroaching, corroding, occupying, and ultimately dominating.
Even the spotlight began to quiver slightly, on the brink of collapse, signaling the arrival of the darkest moment.
The previously animated crowd settled into silence, the heat waning, and restlessness giving way.
The entire audience at the Old Blacksmith Bar held their breath, eyes wide, fixed on the stage.
The ultimate darkness, the ultimate silence, suppressed the highest excitement and fervor, like a frozen moment before the world's destruction.
Unaccompanied, Ronan began to softly hum.
"Hmm... uh uh uh..."
It flowed melodiously and gracefully, like a violin playing a nocturne, quietly blooming. Fragile and sensitive emotions gradually unfurled, unfolding gently and cautiously with utmost tenderness.
Involuntarily, one might want to close their eyes and capture the emotions in the air.
Yet, when they extended their palms, all they could grasp was empty air.
The profound loneliness settled within their hearts, a sensation that the dark moment was truly engulfing and consuming itself.
"Help me, it's like the walls are caving in
Sometimes I feel like giving up
But I just can't
It isn't in my blood."
The a cappella singing was almost a whisper, tinged with temptation, revealing the deep wounds in one's heart.
Only in the cover of darkness could one summon the courage to unveil their fragility, as the pain and struggle intertwined in the voice pulled at the heartstrings, gradually causing it to unravel.
The phrase "Help me" unveiled a multitude of scars.
Helpless yet determined. Painful yet unyielding.
The emotions in the voice were genuine and delicate, each pause, shift, and crescendo exquisite and moving. Thus, layer by layer, mixed emotions were conveyed.
There were no special effects, no elaborate lighting, no embellishments—only one person and one voice, narrating emotions through melody.
The mingled sentiments gently rose, with the sparse shadows cast by the light on the face clearly visible. Slightly trembling eyelashes revealed inner unease, akin to the gentle fluttering of butterfly wings.
Silently, the audience slowed their breathing and movements, afraid that any noise might disturb this "butterfly."
Eventually, they found themselves forgetting to breathe altogether, their focus entirely absorbed by Ronan, like a black hole pulling in every pair of eyes in the audience.
No one was immune.
Exhale.
Gently, Ronan let out a breath, and even this action seamlessly blended into the melody, becoming part of the music.
Duncan couldn't help but lean forward slightly, drawn closer to the stage, and closer...
The joy of unexpectedly experiencing the band's performance once more clashed with the sorrow of the band's performance coming to an end.
In the early hours of the morning, their half-asleep minds spiraled out of control, emotions surging and then falling in sync with Ronan's singing.
The clear, resonant guitar strings hummed, their lingering vibrations creating ripples that seamlessly intertwined with Ronan's voice.
The once crystalline singing now carried a hint of magnetism, like the scent of cigarette smoke lingering on fingertips—unseen but undeniably present.
The faint aroma of tobacco summoned memories, gradually settling on the chest. Its gentle warmth nearly scorched the heart.
"Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing
I'm overwhelmed and insecure, give me something
I could take to ease my mind slowly"
Drums, play.
The melody's depth deepened Ronan's voice, and the power, emanating from the depths of his soul, merged with the drumbeats to release pent-up emotions bit by bit.
There were no flashy vocal acrobatics, yet the articulation and the endings were marked by a shiver and an uncontrollable tremor, as if the leaves on a tree in late autumn, about to wither.
The heart clenched slightly.
"Just have a drink and you'll feel better
Just take her home and you'll feel better
Keep telling me that it gets better
Does it ever?"
Darkness, boundless and infinite, surged forth, ensnaring one's steps, causing them to flee in desperation. However, they soon realized there was no escape, their path winding in circles, eventually leading to a dark cage.
Scars, still raw and painful, adorned them like badges. A slight sting, hot blood adhering to the skin, even though they hugged their knees, trying to ward off the biting cold that emanated from within.
Inside, desolation reigned.
No matter how they struggled, how hard they tried, how fast they ran, it was all in vain. Would everything truly get better? Had anything ever improved?
Despair, overwhelming.
From the guitar to the drums, and then to the bass, the melody climbed slowly, layering the volume levels, naturally striking the eardrums, while Ronan's singing grew firmer and more powerful, expressing emotions with unrestrained abandon.
"Help me, it's like the walls are caving in
Sometimes I feel like giving up
No medicine is strong enough"
"Someone help me
I'm crawling in my skin
Sometimes I feel like giving up
But I just can't"
Help.
Help!
Help! Help me!
One sound rose higher than the last, each cry more powerful than the preceding one.
The plea for help resonated, fists clenched and voices roaring, but the shackles of the night refused to relent.
The despair of its absence felt suffocating, until finally, the emotions could no longer be contained.
Boom!
The cold, weighty piano notes resounded, echoing with the sounds of other instruments, propelling the performance to new heights.
The restrained emotions, long confined, broke free from their shackles, erupting with all the might of a burst dam.
"It-isn't-in-my-blood!"
Lightly, yet brilliantly, Ronan hit the high notes, like a whale breaking through the surface of the ocean after a long dive, leaping high, and letting out a triumphant cry.
The exultation and joy of the boundless sea and sky momentarily expanded one's field of vision.
Ronan, clutching the microphone tightly, closed his eyes. His slender frame seemed to carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, releasing every ounce of energy.
He sang without pretense, pouring out his soul, the resonance immediate, the aftertaste gentle and lingering.
Then...
Note: "In My Blood" by Shawn Mendes.