Gulp. Gulp.

Ronan's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he chugged water, his skin flushed slightly red as beads of hot sweat rolled down. The air around him seemed to pulse with the heat of his body, radiating a masculine energy. You could almost see the steam rising from beneath his skin, as if his blood was literally boiling.

"Ahhh!" After draining more than half the bottle of water in one go, Ronan let out a satisfied sigh. The sound startled Alena, who quickly dropped her gaze to hide the fact that she'd been sneaking glances at him. But even looking away didn't help much—sitting so close to him, she could still feel the warmth radiating from his body. His scent, a faint mix of soap and fresh sweat, made her heart race uncontrollably.

And then...

Out of the corner of her eye, she couldn't help but sneak another peek. Her gaze slowly traveled over his toned body. Normally, his clothes hid his figure, giving only the impression of a tall and solid build. But now, after sweating through his shirt, the T-shirt clung to his skin, outlining lean muscles that practically invited her imagination to wander—what would it feel like to trace those lines with her fingers? Would his skin feel like silk?

Stop it!

Realizing where her thoughts were heading, Alena quickly dropped her eyes again, forcing herself to count sheep to steady her breathing and heart rate.

The first rehearsal at the Staples Center for One Day King had just wrapped up. It had gone by in a flash—an intense hour that felt too short to fully savor. Now, the stage belonged to Frank Ocean.

Frank had arrived early and had watched the final part of One Day King's rehearsal. They exchanged a quick greeting before he took the stage for his own run-through. Meanwhile, the members of One Day King didn't leave right away.

The rehearsal had left them completely drained. They looked like they'd just been fished out of a pool, soaked in sweat, now lounging in the audience seats to rest and unwind. More importantly, they stayed to observe Frank's rehearsal and learn from it.

What the band needed most right now was experience—especially in adapting to the acoustics and layout of the Staples Center. Watching Frank's performance could help them get a better feel for the space, from both a visual and auditory standpoint. Plus, Frank hadn't asked for privacy during his rehearsal.

Scattered across the seats, the band members rested. Initially, Ollie had been sitting with Ronan, but when Alena arrived, the socially awkward Ollie moved down a few seats, leaving Ronan and Alena side by side.

The rest of the band couldn't help sneaking glances at them, curious about what might be going on between the two. Soon, they started edging closer to Ollie, whispering their questions.

"...Alena?" The voice calling her name approached from a distance, gradually drawing closer. Alena snapped to attention, quickly lifting her head, her eyes betraying a flash of panic and confusion. Then she saw Ronan's mouth curl into a gentle smile—and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade: the noise, the lights, the surroundings. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Twenty-five cents for your thoughts," Ronan said playfully, clearly noticing her flustered reaction. The last time they met, Alena had left a lasting impression with her calm composure. Seeing her out of sorts now was hard to miss.

Alena gathered herself, lifting her head with a slightly narrowed gaze and returning his smile. "I was just wondering if I might end up regretting saying yes to this performance."

"Oh?" Ronan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Because the rehearsal didn't go well?"

"No, the rehearsal went very, very well," Alena replied, half-serious and half-joking. "But your performance was so impressive, I'm worried I won't be able to keep up. If that happens, I might be met with something other than applause when I return to Europe."

Even as she spoke, the heat radiating from Ronan was overwhelming. It took everything she had to maintain her composure and keep her voice steady. Her heart still pounded wildly in her chest, but at least her tone was calm.

Ronan chuckled softly. He didn't take her words too seriously—after all, during rehearsal, Alena had performed brilliantly. Her technique and emotional expression had left the whole band amazed. This was what a world-class performance looked like, and the gap between their levels was clear.

Besides, Alena was known for her unshakable confidence and dedication to her craft. She was the type to polish her skills endlessly and believed deeply in her professionalism. There was no way she'd be rattled by a single rehearsal.

Unaware of the turmoil beneath her calm exterior, Ronan joined in the banter. "So then, why did you agree to perform with us in the first place?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Alena replied, her tone laced with irony and amusement, but her expression was surprisingly serious, which created an oddly charming contradiction.

Ronan spread his hands dramatically. "Sounds like we'd better step up our game. If we lose the chance to have a world-class violinist on stage with us, our performance might suffer. That's not a risk we can afford."

Alena looked up at him. His eyes, deep and ocean-blue, sparkled with a clear, expansive light that seemed to pull her in like a black hole. Her heart skipped another beat, her breathing faltered, and the words on the tip of her tongue stalled.

After a brief hesitation, she abruptly changed the topic—almost biting her tongue in her haste. "Can you tell me more about the background of the song My Demon? To really express the emotion in the melody, I need to understand the story behind every note."

Nothing calms emotional chaos quite like diving into a professional topic—for both Alena and Ronan.

Sure enough, Ronan didn't dwell on it. Although he had sensed a flicker of emotion in her a moment earlier, and felt a stir of confusion in his own mind, he didn't have the time to unpack it all. He, too, needed to maintain control, so he followed her lead.

But instead of giving a direct answer, Ronan smiled and countered, "Why don't you tell me your interpretation first?"

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