11 In the dead night

The moonlight was scarce, and the evening breeze rustled through the air. Faintly, the gurgling of a nearby river could be heard, but it was often drowned out by the cacophony of drunken patrons and the vulgarities that pierced through the thin, paper-like walls. The commotion was so intense that it felt like the entire building could hear it.

Looking down into the courtyard, Ronan gazed at the empty, emerald-green swimming pool. It had been drained completely, and if one were to fall into it accidentally, they might suffer a serious injury.

The walls were marred with blotches, fallen leaves, and cracks in the sand and soil, creating an atmosphere of decay. The pale light cast eerie shadows on the dry pool, making it resemble a hungry beast lying in wait for unsuspecting passersby.

The hour was nearing midnight, yet the motel remained brightly lit. Standing on the third-floor balcony and peering downward, Ronan could see the shadows in the courtyard acting out the dramas of life like shadow puppets. In the dimly lit windows of each room, a hushed narrative unfolded in every household.

The air was thick with a pungent odor, a mix of decay and dampness. Even the faint odor of water from a distance was tainted.

"What are you looking at?" A voice sounded behind him, and Ronan knew without turning around that it was Ollie. His distinctive way of speaking was unmistakable.

"It's almost midnight. Are you sure you don't need to get some rest? Your fever hasn't fully subsided, and you've exerted yourself tonight. You need a good night's sleep for tomorrow's performance. None of us want a repeat of what happened. Are you really okay?" Ronan didn't need to respond; Ollie's self-talk filled the silence, ensuring that he was never left alone.

"What are you staring at? It's just a messy reed swamp in front of you, and you can't see anything right now, not even the reeds themselves. Or did you spot something that young couples couldn't wait to explore? Where are they? Tell me, share, what did you see?"

While talking, Ollie joined Ronan, bumping his shoulder against Ronan's, skillfully steering the conversation in a completely different direction.

"No." Ronan lifted his chin slightly, gesturing in a certain direction.

Ollie followed Ronan's gaze, widening his eyes and straining to see, but he found nothing. He couldn't help but jest, "...Seriously, did you spot a UFO? Are aliens paying us a visit?"

A chuckle involuntarily escaped Ronan's lips, and a smile twinkled in his eyes.

"No, I'm just appreciating the night view."

There was excitement and joy in his voice, reminiscent of a child during the Lunar New Year, eagerly anticipating the chance to wear new clothes and shoes and show them off. It was an unbridled delight that couldn't be contained, even while lying in bed. Ronan couldn't help but kick the blanket in excitement.

That's how Ronan felt now.

Despite the lingering fever and physical exhaustion, his spirit remained vibrant and full of life. He couldn't sleep; he just wanted to keep his eyes wide open.

Whether he was looking at the night sky or anything else, he observed it with wonder. Everything seemed fresh, beautiful, and profoundly moving.

"Night view?" Ollie's puzzled voice rang out, expressing his lack of understanding.

"I get it if you're talking about the dazzling night view of New York, but New Orleans?"

Then, Ronan continued speaking.

"Look."

"The stars are sprinkled across the cloudless sky, and the dark expanse gleams with a light peacock blue. It's as though you can see the slow descent of starlight trails. It's both mystical and profound, yet it's intricately connected to our world."

"Those dots of orange lights on the ground narrate different tales—tales of a city's and humanity's carnival, filled with laughter and revelry. The yellow lights seep into the night little by little, harmonizing with the stars, boldly and publicly."

"Do you think Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' was inspired by this? He captured both the loneliness of the starry sky and the bustling human world, infusing the former with vitality, while reflecting the latter's solitude. When we gaze at the night sky, what are we truly doing? What do we see? Could there be someone out there watching us?"

In the moments of stillness, a hint of purple appeared where the peacock blue and orange converged, creating a beguiling and vibrant atmosphere.

"There's no need for travel or adventure," Ronan continued. "Every nook of daily life is infused with beauty. Sadly, our eyes are often obscured by the fatigue of busyness and the weight of life's demands. We tend to overlook the omnipresent splendor and magnificence."

Following Ronan's gaze, Ollie's eyes flitted about in the darkness. After a brief pause, his voice broke the silence once more. "...So, have you actually seen a UFO? Are extraterrestrial beings here? Why didn't I see them?"

"Have you heard about NASA's latest research report? Only those with pure hearts can spot UFOs and aliens." Ronan responded with a tone of utmost seriousness.

Ollie gave Ronan a bemused look, causing Ronan to laugh heartily. He leaned forward and backward in amusement, his laughter echoing through the deserted and rundown motel. Even Ollie joined in, and their laughter, a mixture of merriment and vitality, filled the space.

Maxim, who had been inside the room, also emerged, observing Ronan and Ollie's laughter. A hint of helplessness flickered in his eyes as he remarked, "You two are really..."

He couldn't fathom how they could still laugh in a situation like this, unsure if it was due to their carefree natures or a lack of awareness of the impending crisis.

Shaking his head slightly, Maxim couldn't release the pent-up tension in his chest. He asked with concern, "What's next? What's our plan? What do we do after tomorrow night's performance? Do we even have to continue?"

"But what other options do we have if we don't continue?" Ollie's smile vanished, replaced by a frown.

"We've already signed a contract, and if we breach it, not to mention the penalty, what about the aftermath? Will other tours ever consider us?"

"Do you think there's a future ahead?" Another voice chimed in from behind—Cliff had arrived, his tone low and somber.

"I didn't say that," Cliff retorted.

But Maxim wasn't ready to back down. "Then what do you mean? You keep contradicting yourself. It seems like you don't want to see our future..."

"Because there is no future!" Cliff's voice escalated, and he scoffed. "Can't you see our predicament? We've reached a dead end. I'm not playing devil's advocate; it's just that we don't have any other choice. Ronan, do you also think we should keep going?"

All eyes turned to Ronan.