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🕑 Added 2025-08-05 15:26:27 +0000 UTCChapter 313 – Early Morning
"This is just the beginning."
Though the words came calmly and lightly, there was an unmistakable surge of faith and will behind them—an undercurrent of confidence and determination for what lay ahead. The bold, spirited energy swept over the group like a wave, stirring their blood. In that moment, everyone stood a little taller, their spines straightened, and a sense of pride and passion began to burn brightly in their chests. After everything they had gone through, what was there left to fear?
Even Alice, usually composed, silently straightened her back, exuding confidence from the inside out.
Maxim was the first to clench his fists with confidence. Then, trying to appear calm and collected, he loosened them again, acting like it was no big deal—but the awkwardness in his movements betrayed his excitement. "Well? Ready to meet the dawn at Staples Center?"
Ronan’s teasing voice came right on cue. "Quit pretending you’re Kobe."
(Los Angeles Lakers legend Kobe Bryant once famously said: Have you ever seen Los Angeles at 4 a.m.?)
Maxim was clearly trying to elevate himself, as if he were living out Kobe’s story firsthand. But even after Ronan called him out, Maxim still straightened up, chest out, proudly marching ahead to lead the way.
Behind him, Ollie and Cliff burst into laughter, then quickly caught up to join Ronan and Maxim in stride.
The Staples Center in the early morning was unusually quiet—none of the usual bustle or crowds, barely a soul in sight.
Grammy rehearsals were packed to the brim from morning till night. Naturally, prime time slots were reserved for top-tier celebrities, while rising stars like One Day King and Shining Band had to grind it out during off-hours.
Shining Band’s first rehearsal was scheduled for 11 p.m. that night. One Day King, on the other hand, had their first slot at 7 a.m.—entering the venue before sunrise, while the city was still asleep, to begin a long and grueling day.
Their first rehearsal would only last an hour—just enough to get a feel for the stage and walk through the process. The crew would take notes and record everything to prepare for the second rehearsal.
One Day King only had two chances to rehearse: one hour today and two hours the next time. If they couldn’t adapt to the stage within that time, the Grammys could shorten their performance time—or cancel it altogether. After all, losing One Day King wouldn’t be a problem; countless other artists were desperate for a chance to perform at the Grammys.
This was exactly why the Grammy organizers had set things up this way—to ensure the band had time to review and practice between rehearsals without affecting the schedule or venue space. That way, when it came time for the second run-through, they’d be ready and efficient.
Time was tight. Every second counted.
The band was mentally prepared. Once inside Staples Center, there’d be no time for wandering or marveling—they had to get straight to work. But, as often happens, things didn’t go exactly as planned.
They hadn’t expected someone to arrive even earlier than them.
And apparently, that person was waiting specifically for One Day King.
"Bruno?"
Ollie was the first to spot Bruno, slouched in a seat among the empty rows. Maxim, who was walking in front and focused entirely on the stage, had completely missed him—until he heard Ollie’s surprised shout and quickly turned around.
"Bruno?!"
Maxim echoed in disbelief. The last person he expected to see here, at this time and place, was an old friend.
The surprise of seeing Bruno Mars in a moment like this—before dawn, at the Staples Center—hit them like a joyful shock. Ollie and Maxim couldn’t hide their excitement. Beaming with happiness, they rushed over and gave Bruno a big, enthusiastic welcome.
Bruno, hair tousled, rubbed his head as he stood up with a grin, flashing his perfectly white teeth like a shark. He opened his arms and hugged them warmly, never explaining why he was there—just repeating:
"Congratulations! Congratulations!"
His joy was genuine. Bruno was truly happy for One Day King. Then he walked over to Ronan, raising his eyebrows playfully before giving him a bear hug.
While hugging him, he joked in his slightly raspy voice, "Hey man, lower your center of gravity a bit. Think of your shorter friends."
Ronan chuckled and, like a gentleman, bent his knees and adjusted his stance to give Bruno a proper hug. Then he looked him over and asked, "Let me guess—you stayed here last night? You’re really here waiting for us?"
Bruno laughed brightly. "What’s the matter? So moved you’re speechless?"
Bruno Mars hadn’t been nominated for the 55th Grammy Awards—not because the Recording Academy had overlooked him, but because the release of his second album came too late to qualify for this year’s deadline.
After wrapping up his Doo-Wops & Hooligans tour, Bruno threw himself fully into making his second album. Still, the negative press and emotional toll had clearly slowed his progress. Meanwhile, One Day King’s album Seven had already made waves, while Bruno was still in the studio.
It wasn’t until December that Bruno finally dropped his second album, Unorthodox Jukebox. The lead single, "Locked Out of Heaven," did qualify for Grammy submission—but Bruno decided to sit this year out entirely and submit everything next year instead.
So this year, Bruno was simply a spectator—free from the heat of competition.
Chapter 314: Friendly Advice
The preparation and release of Doo-Wops & Hooligans had veered off its expected path, which meant that Bruno ultimately missed out on this year’s Grammy race and didn’t receive any nominations.
However, as one of the most rapidly rising male artists in the music industry, Bruno was still widely seen as a Grammy favorite.
His debut single had already earned him a Grammy for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance, and due to the release timing of his first album, it qualified for Grammy consideration two years in a row. Altogether, the album brought Bruno eleven nominations. Though he was still technically a newcomer, the Grammys made no attempt to hide their admiration and support for him.
So, even though Doo-Wops & Hooligans wasn’t submitted for this year’s Grammys, could the Recording Academy really ignore an artist like Bruno, who was still actively promoting the album?
Of course not. Even without a nomination, Bruno was invited to perform onstage. He would be part of a special tribute segment honoring legendary icon Bob Marley.
Bob Marley, a Jamaican native, is considered the founding father of reggae music. He pioneered a whole new genre and brought it to audiences across the world. After his death in 1981, his greatest hits album was released and remained a bestseller for over two decades. To this day, it remains the best-selling reggae album ever, with over 20 million copies sold globally.
Naturally, paying tribute to Bob Marley was set to be one of the highlights of this year’s Grammy Awards.
The tribute performance brought together several artists heavily influenced by reggae music, including Bob Marley’s two sons, Damian Marley and Ziggy Marley, as well as Sting, Rihanna, and Bruno.
Bruno’s music, which blends soul, funk, and reggae, is rich in personal style. Bob Marley was undoubtedly one of his biggest inspirations. Performing in a tribute to him was an opportunity Bruno genuinely relished.
Bruno was scheduled to perform “Locked Out of Heaven,” and would also join the Marley brothers and other guests in performing one of Bob Marley’s classic songs.
Because of this, Bruno had arrived early in Los Angeles to begin rehearsals. Compared to solo sets, collaborative performances require more intensive preparation, especially with multiple stars whose schedules rarely align. Rehearsing together can be a logistical nightmare.
Since Sting and Rihanna’s availability didn’t line up, Bruno had to complete his individual rehearsal first, then wait for a brief window—maybe an hour or two—for the joint rehearsal. On a stage as prestigious as the Grammys, no one wanted to waste a single minute.
Bruno rehearsed until just after 5 a.m. the previous night. But upon learning that One Day King was scheduled to arrive at the Staples Center by 7 a.m. for their own rehearsal, he decided not to go home and rest. Instead, he stayed at the venue, waiting to reunite with his old friends—for the first time in three months since the end of his tour.
Faced with Bruno’s teasing, Ronan could still feel the warmth behind his words and responded with a smile, “Yeah, I’m so touched I can’t even speak. That might be a problem—how am I supposed to rehearse?”
Ronan’s sarcasm made Bruno burst out laughing. “Don’t worry—you’re going to slay that stage, just like you always do.” He clapped Ronan on the shoulder. “Honestly, My Demon is a really special song. I actually like it more than Chasing the Light. So, what do you think? Got time in the future to collaborate?”
Ronan’s eyes lit up. “Why not start right now?”
His eagerness made Bruno laugh again. “After you’re done with rehearsal.” Then realizing his offer might sound like empty small talk, he quickly added, “I mean it.”
Ronan smiled, “Of course. I know. Even if you didn’t mean it—I do. So you better not ghost my calls.”
Bruno nodded repeatedly, grinning ear to ear. Then he turned serious. “There’s nothing wrong with the stage at Staples, but be mindful of the vents. There’s a lot of them, so sound returns differently. Pay attention to your in-ear monitors—the live acoustics can really throw you off. Also, don’t forget the camera directions.”
This was the real reason Bruno had stayed behind—he wanted to personally pass on his experience to One Day King, helping them have the best performance possible.
Ronan felt a quiet warmth rise in his chest. He didn’t say much, but the attentive look in his eyes made his gratitude clear.
“Unlike a regular concert, what you really need to focus on at the Grammys is the camera work,” Bruno explained. “Talk to the camera operators. Remember, the audience isn’t just in the venue—it’s millions of people watching on TV. That kind of performance takes a different mindset. It’s easy to get lost in it.”
Bruno generously shared all his insights, and Ronan listened intently before asking his own question: “What about the acoustics of the venue?”
“Of course, this is the Staples Center—it’s huge, echoey, and noisy. The sound needs to really cut through. Also, the main stage and side stages have totally different sound dynamics. Once you’re in the performance zone, it’s easy to forget that. I suggest you try performing without your in-ears at first to get a feel for the echo, so you’ll have a better sense of the space.”
Bruno patted Ronan’s shoulder again, then shifted the topic. “Rehearsal time’s tight. You guys settle in—I’m going to finally head out and get some sleep. Maybe we can catch up over lunch after you’re done?”
“Lunch?” Ronan raised an eyebrow.
Bruno rubbed his sleep-deprived eyes and chuckled, “Lunch, dinner—what’s the difference? I meant Istanbul time lunch, which would be LA time dinner.”
“Hah, I’ll be waiting right on the prime meridian.” Ronan played along, then stepped forward and pulled Bruno into a warm hug. He whispered into his friend’s ear, “Thanks, man.” And without waiting for a reply, added, “Go rest. Take care of your voice.”
Bruno didn’t say anything else. He just gave Ronan’s shoulder a final pat, waved to the rest of the band, and headed off without another word, leaving the Staples Center.
Cliff walked over with a surprised look and asked Ronan in a low voice, “When did you and Bruno get so close?”
He didn’t need an answer. Everyone had sensed the unspoken connection between Bruno and Ronan—and it was clearly more than just a touring partnership.
315 – Adapting to the Venue
Clearly, Bruno had stayed behind specifically for One-Day King, but to be more precise, he stayed for Ronan. It didn’t take a genius to see that.
Could it be that something happened between Ronan and Bruno beyond their month-long joint tour?
Faced with Cliff’s probing gaze, Ronan didn’t dodge the question. He responded openly, “We’ve always been discussing music and songwriting. Remember when Bruno skipped the audition process and directly chose us as the opening act? It started back then.”
Ronan had no intention of telling others about Bruno’s inner struggles and darkness—not even his bandmates—because those were private matters. He had no right to spread or speculate about them. Gossip always starts off so innocently. Besides, Ronan wasn’t lying. His connection with Bruno had always revolved around creative exchange and inspiration.
Before Locked Palace was officially released, Bruno held a private listening session for a group of close friends in the industry. He sent them the demo tracks and invited feedback. Both Fizzy Tantrum and One-Day King were included. Every member gave their thoughts.
After Ronan sent his feedback, he wasn’t sure if the rest of the band got any follow-up. But he definitely did. Some of his suggestions sparked disagreements, and he and Bruno exchanged emails, debating and refining ideas. In the end, Bruno took some of Ronan’s input, and Ronan also revised some of his own thinking. He completely understood Bruno’s refusal to compromise in certain areas.
That back-and-forth led to some changes in the final version of Locked Palace—mainly in the arrangement.
And that was it.
During the later production of Mars Jukebox, Bruno didn’t ask for Ronan’s input, showing that he had his own pride and creative principles. Then came the release of the breakout single My Demon, which once again impressed Bruno. But the two hadn’t kept in touch since. That’s why Bruno’s praise today meant something.
So when Ronan answered Cliff, he was mostly telling the truth. As for that quiet, unspoken understanding between him and Bruno? No need to bring it up.
Cliff pouted at Ronan’s explanation. He felt there had to be something more—but couldn’t quite say what—so he let it go. “Music collaboration, huh? Fair enough. Hard to argue with that.” After a pause, he asked, “What exactly did you write in your feedback on the single?”
“Professional opinion,” Ronan replied mysteriously, half-joking.
Cliff blinked, then realized Ronan was teasing him—or more like throwing some shade. Back when they gave feedback, Cliff’s comments were all glowing praise, without much substance. Later, he found out that Ronan, Oli, and Maxim had each offered real critiques. Cliff had regretted it for a bit.
Oli was already trying and failing to hold back laughter, his shoulders shaking. Cliff flipped Ronan the finger, then gave another to Oli, and even gestured one toward Maxim.
Maxim, completely innocent and dragged into it anyway, protested loudly. That was all it took—Oli burst out in full-blown, unrestrained laughter.
For a moment, the whole scene descended into cheerful chaos.
Ronan quickly patted Oli’s back, signaling they needed to calm down and not delay the rehearsal. Then, still grinning, they headed toward the stage to meet the crew and start adjusting to the venue.
One hour wasn’t much—barely enough, actually. The band had to make the most of it.
But the earlier moment of laughter had done them good. Everyone was noticeably more relaxed now. After greeting the crew, they jumped into adapting to the space.
Staples Center was on a whole other level. Previously, the largest venue One-Day King had played was the Capital One Arena in Washington, D.C. They thought the difference between a 10,000 and 20,000-seat venue would just be about scale—nothing they couldn’t handle. After all, they had experience with large crowds. How much harder could it be?
The reality hit them hard.
With the increased height, width, and depth, the venue felt like an endless black void stretching in every direction. It swallowed their senses, dulled their perception. Standing there, it felt like the space had expanded tenfold—not just doubled.
Not twice as big. Ten times.
Of course, with the stage setup, the venue wouldn’t hold a full 20,000 for the Grammys. Unlike a basketball game, the audience wouldn’t be seated on all four sides. The actual number would likely be closer to 10,000 to 12,000. After all, the Grammys were an award show, not a concert, and the venue wouldn’t be packed wall to wall.
Still, the difference in spatial perception was jarring. More importantly, as Bruno had pointed out, the camera work was what truly made the Grammy stage unique. That subtle shift in production style changed the entire performance dynamic.
The band played through one song to test the space. After finishing, everyone looked a little panicked—including Ronan. The sound system, the space, the cameras—it was all so foreign and threw off their expectations. Their previous experience felt useless. They had to start from scratch, which was an unnerving realization.
This was when Bruno’s friendly advice really came in handy.
Ronan and Maxim were the first to collect themselves. Instead of jumping straight into another practice run, they paused to reflect on what went wrong and what each member had felt. Then, they brought the issues up to the crew and asked for their input—relying on the crew’s experience to find solutions.
That was, without a doubt, the smartest move.
In the past, pride might’ve held them back from asking for help. But after everything they’d been through the past six months, and knowing how critical the Grammy stage was—and how limited their rehearsal time was—no one objected when Ronan suggested seeking guidance. In fact, he took the initiative and approached the crew himself.
The staff were a little surprised—this didn’t happen often.
Artists standing under the spotlight are usually reluctant to admit flaws or ask for help, especially in front of regular crew members. It can feel embarrassing. Worse, they risk being mocked for their ignorance or arrogance. That kind of pride can create tension and misunderstandings between artists and crew.
So—did Ronan not have that kind of “pride”?
