Simon Palmer's hurried steps came to a sudden halt as he gazed at a quiet corner amid the bustling crowd.
Time seemed to slow down in that small pocket of space. Even the busy throng around it instinctively kept their distance, clearing an empty patch as if afraid to disturb the peace. There, a tall, lean singer poured his heart into a song, letting his emotions flow freely.
"You're far beyond the sky yet feel so close, lights flicker, melodies fade…" (Note 1)
The world hushed. Even the relentless hum of traffic on Las Vegas Boulevard seemed to vanish.
"But you don't see me standing there, I cameto say goodbye, watching you kiss from the corner…"
A clear, piercing high note sliced through the melody's tenderness, raw and bleeding, laying a scarred heart bare for all to see.
That lone figure singing created a black hole with his voice, swallowing up all the light and noise around him. Anyone who lingered couldn't help but slow down, then slow down more, sinking deeper into it, unable to pull away.
"Simon!"
A coworker's voice called from behind, but Simon whipped around with a quick "Shh," silencing them. The guy's face was a mess of confusion. "What's going on? The live broadcast is about to start. Weren't we supposed to clear the area? If we mess this up…" It'd be a disaster they couldn't shoulder.
Simon worked for the TV station, sent to prep the space for a final audio test before the live feed. But his feet had stopped moving. Even with the annoyed grumbling behind him, his eyes stayed glued to the figure under the dim yellow streetlamp.
"Sixty seconds. Just sixty seconds. We can wait 'til he finishes…" Simon tossed the words over his shoulder, and the complaints faded into silence. Everyone turned their focus to the performance—some curious, some irritated, all peering forward.
God seemed to favor moments like this. The fading sunset pierced through the night's kaleidoscope of lights, landing softly on the street singer's shoulders like a butterfly alighting. His clear, gentle voice laid bare a fragile heart, the sharp sting of pain bursting through the song. You could almost feel the story and emotion behind it, a sorrow that tugged you along.
"I gave it all, but I'm still not the one you take home…" Another high note soared effortlessly to an emotional peak, releasing its energy like a dragonfly skimming water, then dipping back into a low, tender hum. The gentle feeling drifted through the night air. "Ooh… I just dance on my own…"
The restless chatter quieted down. No one pressed Simon anymore. They just stood there, eyes wide, soaking in the fleeting tenderness. Even the night felt warmer. The surging crowd blurred into the background, leaving only that one figure in sharp focus.
Busy footsteps circled the edge of this black hole, savoring a rare moment of calm, listening to the faint beat of their own hearts.
There he was, cradling a guitar, singing with total devotion.
"You're far beyond the sky yet feel so close, lights flicker, melodies fade…" The rising notes lifted the emotion higher and higher. That bright, soaring high broke through effortlessly, not stopping this time. It shattered the night's chains, racing toward the blazing sunset on the horizon like a moth to a flame.
And just like that, sadness crept in.
The crystalline high cut through, piercing straight to the softest, most hidden corner of the soul. It traced a graceful arc, then settled back down, standing alone in quiet desolation. "But you don't see me standing there."
So real, so open, so honest. That tangled mix of courage and fear melted perfectly into the melody's lines, hitting the listener's heart with a light yet heavy thud. The effortless high pushed the emotion to a breathtaking new height.
The chubby-cheeked girl lost it completely. Clutching her arms, she broke into sobs, biting her lip to hold back tears but failing miserably.
She wasn't alone—even Ronan's eyes glistened slightly. True emotion has to move you first before it can touch anyone else, and for Ronan, that held true. Unlike the dance track's original, his version was lonelier, more desperate—a raw outpouring of feeling. Robyn's take might linger longer, but this ballad's explosion hit harder.
Lifting his gaze, Ronan saw the girl in front of him, floundering and overwhelmed.
He got it—completely.
It's like the whole world can't grasp your pain, and you can't even explain it yourself. Your best friend can't feel it with you; no one gets it—they might even be confused or dismissive. But to you, it's an insurmountable wall, trapping you in a lonely spiral. Then a song like this comes along, and as you sink into the music, those notes touch your tender wounds. The resonance takes over, and you're lost in it.
Outsiders just don't understand.
Ronan had been there countless times himself. That's why he could never let go of music. In that world of melody, it's just him and the notes—a secret no third person could ever know. That intimate, blood-deep connection is something no other art form can offer.
So, he slung his guitar behind his back, stepped forward, and wrapped the chubby-cheeked girl in a hug.
No extra fuss—just a simple embrace to light a spark in her dark world, hoping it might guide her back to hope.
The taller girl watched her friend fall apart. Unable to bear it, she turned away, wiping her own teary eyes in a flustered mess. But she knew her friend needed this release. This brief, warm hug could let all the pent-up negativity pour out.
When she looked back, she fixed her gaze on Ronan's profile. Light and shadow gently traced his features, his long lashes casting a butterfly-wing shadow. In that shade, a glint of clarity shone through—like the dawn of a July morning breaking through a haze of colors.
Note 1: "Dancing On My Own" – Calum Scott