belamy20
patreon
Chapter 102: Flattered Beyond Words
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 17:36:43 +0000 UTC“Uh… excuse me, can I make a request?”
It was just a short sentence, but it sent a tidal wave of emotions crashing through Ronan’s chest. A rush of wild joy surged up, a jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind.
Catching himself getting carried away, Ronan quickly pulled it together. A little embarrassed by his overreaction, he rubbed his brow instinctively, trying to hide his expression. He glanced back at his bandmates for support, only to find the other three acting even more over-the-top than he was.
Ollie and Maxim were spinning in circles like amateur ballerinas practicing turns without getting dizzy—except they were terrible at it. After just a few spins, they were already stumbling around, disoriented.
Cliff was holding it together a bit better, but his trembling fingers gave him away. He tried to say something, but his voice got stuck in his throat. In the end, he just clapped Ronan on the shoulder and shot him a look that screamed:
Turn around. Turn around!
The silent roar was crystal clear. Ronan spun back to face the two girls, catching their surprised expressions. He decided to be upfront about it. “You’re the first audience members to come with a song request. Clearly, we’re all a little thrown by this surprise.”
His simple, honest words carried an endearing sincerity, the kind that made you feel the genuine warmth behind them.
The girls’ eyes lit up with bright, beaming smiles. The one with chubby cheeks, practically buzzing with excitement, piped up, “I watched your performance video from Salt Lake City…” That was their latest YouTube upload—looks like these two were keeping up regularly. “You did an acoustic version of Robyn’s ‘Dancing On My Own’ with just your guitar…”
Before she could finish, Ollie burst out laughing behind them, his booming guffaw cutting through the air like a siren. The chubby-cheeked girl hurriedly explained, “I know it’s not one of your band’s songs, just a cover, but I really, really loved your version…”
Her voice trailed off, shrinking quieter until it vanished completely. She took a step back, half-hiding behind the slightly taller girl.
Ronan chuckled too, waving his hands quickly. “No, no, no, don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just…” He seemed to recall something from that moment, breaking into another laugh, but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he shifted gears. “No worries, I’d be happy to play it. Let’s go with that one.”
Ronan grinned at the two girls, his bright eyes reflecting the last sliver of sunlight overhead, rippling with a gentle warmth.
“Dancing On My Own” is a 2010 English dance track by Swedish singer Robyn—a heartbreak story wrapped in electronic beats. It’s about loving someone who falls for someone else, leaving her invisible. But instead of wallowing, she hits the dance floor, dancing wildly and freely on her own until dawn.
When it first came out, it didn’t make much of a splash. Over time, though, it brewed a quiet charm. It blew up in the UK first, then crossed the ocean to take over North America, winning over countless fans.
Years later, in 2020, magazines like Rolling Stone and NME ranked it atop their “Best Songs of 2010-2020” lists for dance tracks. Critics adored it, cementing its status as a true classic.
Back in Salt Lake City, though, Ronan’s performance wasn’t a tribute to Robyn—it was to poke fun at Maxim.
There’s a story behind it.
Early in their road tour, during a street gig in Oklahoma, Maxim met a mysterious, captivating Gypsy girl. Sparks flew fast. They went on a few dates, never locking anything down, just lingering in that hazy, flirty space.
She even tagged along with the band for about a week on the road.
When she eventually parted ways with them, she and Maxim stayed in touch. You could tell there was real chemistry there.
But then, just before they hit Salt Lake City, Maxim found out she’d moved on—straight into another guy’s arms.
Technically, they’d never defined their relationship. It was casual at best—a fleeting fling. Maxim himself had left his own trail of “marks” in other cities, so she was free to do her thing too.
Still, Maxim was bummed.
“I really thought we had something special, you know? Some kind of spark,” he’d said.
Ronan wasn’t buying it. The night before that little confession, Maxim had spent the evening with another woman. And according to Ollie, that very morning at a café, Maxim had invited yet another girl to join their tour because “I could feel our souls resonating.” Then, right after breakfast, he got the news.
Maxim declared he’d mourn his “lost love” for three days. To the rest of the band, though, his grieving was laughable.
So, Ronan took Robyn’s song and gave it a new spin with his guitar—
In the original, the upbeat electronic rhythm contrasts with the loneliness of dancing alone. She brushes off the pain with a smile, but the wild beat hides a lingering bitterness. That cool, stark contrast brings out emotions rare in dance tracks.
Robyn’s version is brilliant—a classic, no doubt.
Ronan, though, turned it into a slow ballad. Gone was the original’s bittersweet edge; instead, it became tender, melancholic, and dripping with mock sorrow—all to tease Maxim. The band knew exactly what he was up to, and Maxim had sternly voiced his disapproval.
And now, this chubby-cheeked girl was requesting that song?
Things just got interesting.
Ollie’s clapping laughter and Cliff’s merciless snickering left Maxim looking like he wanted to disappear. He couldn’t exactly storm over to strangers and explain the whole backstory, so he settled for a dramatic eye-roll and turned his back in protest.
Ronan ignored the chaos behind him, grabbing his guitar with a smile. He nodded at the girls. “Let’s shift over a bit to the side. That way, they can pack up the gear and clear the space while we keep the show going over here.”
(End of Chapter)
