For Ronan, keyboards and guitars were not difficult; they were his forte.
But the point wasn't about which instrument it was, nor whether Ronan was skilled at it. The key was that Ronan knew how to convey emotions through playing. Every breath, every pause could be felt as a surge of emotion in the touch of his fingertips—this was the key that could give life to the notes.
Perhaps, Cliff just needed an example, and then he could find his inspiration. This was why Ronan agreed to the "challenge" and stepped forward to demonstrate.
"...Ronan? Are you really going to demonstrate?" Ollie was incredibly surprised, looking at Ronan walking into the recording booth, his words even starting to slur.
Maxim and Cliff also looked at Ronan, hesitating to speak, but ultimately said nothing. Only Ollie's voice echoed in the space.
Ronan slightly raised an eyebrow, said nothing, but just glanced at Cliff. Cliff stood up, and then he went straight to the keyboard and sat down. He didn't immediately start playing "Chasing the Light," but instead slightly stretched his fingers, his fingertips flowing smoothly over the black and white keys, completing a warm-up after just two simple passes.
He paused briefly, adjusted his breathing, which was also a signal to Cliff and his teammates that he was ready. Then, his fingertips hovered over the keys.
Deep breath!
Exhale! Strike the keys! Two actions completed simultaneously, merging into one. The power of his fingertips was heavily transmitted onto the black and white keys, and a vast and magnificent force instantly erupted, like the shattering of countless stars in the sky. The grandeur and vastness of the universe instantly poured down.
Thump!
Like a thunderclap.
Release.
Immediately after, his fingertips left the keys, hovering above the chaotic black and white sheen. It seemed as if the surface of his fingerprints could still feel the cold texture from the keys, corresponding to the afterimage of his fingers reflected on the keys. However, the hair-thin space ensured that no power was injected. The rolling air instantly surged in, flowing in the faint space between his fingertips and the keys, faintly capturing the lingering response of the keyboard sound in the air.
Not a rest.
Not even the gap of an eighth note or a sixteenth note, just a fleeting thought that vanished in an instant. Thoughts flashed quickly like colorful streamers, and breathing involuntarily stopped. Space solidified, time paused. Before he could even grasp the tail of the thought, then—
Release!
His fingertips fell on the keys again. It wasn't a physical pause, but a mental stagnation. However, this small stagnation allowed the emotions in his mind to slightly detach. The power released towards the keys slowly receded like a tide, evolving from the roar of the vast ocean to the flowing of a mighty river. Emotions poured down smoothly, and that sense of complete release immediately made his mood lighter.
Then, once more—
"Thump! Thump-thump-thump..."
"Thump! Thump-thump-thump..."
The power of the first syllable slowly faded; the lightness of the subsequent syllables slowly elongated, as if one could feel his fingertips lingering on the keys, slightly dragging some power, and thus extending the ethereal feeling of the notes. That feeling of soaring through the wind and embracing the vast sky with unrestrained freedom gradually became lighter.
From heavy to light, from somber to fluid, it continued for one four-beat measure, then two. The brightness of the emotion bloomed like a rose-colored light.
Refreshing!
Two eight-beat measures, and Ronan finished the demonstration. He paused, but didn't immediately turn around to communicate. Instead, he sat there and pondered for a moment, explaining, as if to himself, "Wait, it still feels a bit lacking. The continuous feeling in the second half needs to be lighter, not a lingering, sentimental drag, but the clarity of a flowing spring. It needs to show the feeling of a babbling brook, possessing both fluidity and lightness."
After speaking, Ronan took another deep breath, and his fingertips landed on the keyboard again.
After two eight-beat measures, Ronan considered it carefully before turning to Cliff. "Hmm, just go with the feeling of the second version. But I only played two eight-beat measures, so the continuous feeling of the emotion isn't complete. You need to find your own feeling of gradual progression to perform it."
After a moment's pause, Ronan didn't wait for Cliff's reply. He widened his eyes, looked directly at Cliff, and asked again, "Do you need me to demonstrate one more time?"
Cliff was bathed in Ronan's gaze, which was cold and calm, without anger or threat. It was just a plain and simple question for his opinion, but an invisible, immense pressure was crushing down layer upon layer. His knees felt inexplicably weak, as if a rabbit targeted by a cheetah had ended up in a dead end, watching helplessly as the cheetah approached him step by step.
"Glug," Cliff swallowed hard. He was startled by the sound of his own swallowing and almost jumped up, saying "No, no, no need. I... uh, I understand already."
Ronan was very patient. "Cliff, if you still have any questions, ask them now. We can discuss and negotiate to find the right solution. Pretending to understand will only waste time and make you look even more pathetic."
The gentle words didn't soothe Cliff's emotions; instead, cold sweat broke out on his back. "Cough, cough," he had to clear his throat. "No need, I'm serious, I already know. Let's start now, I'm ready."
Ronan paused, seemingly scrutinizing Cliff's expression. Just as Cliff was about to suffocate, Ronan nodded slightly to indicate understanding. "Then let's try it again." After that, Ronan got up and left.
Watching Ronan leave the recording booth, Cliff grabbed the mineral water bottle next to him and gulped down water. Even though he was in a closed space, he felt a cold draft on his back, and goosebumps rose one after another. He looked utterly disheveled.
Cliff turned his head towards Maxim and Ollie with some embarrassment. He still wasn't used to his... appearance in front of Ronan, which seemed rather pathetic.
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Ollie was struggling to hold back his laughter, his gloating expression completely undisguised. Maxim also felt the urge to laugh and looked away.
"Traitorous friends!" Cliff grumbled indignantly. "Just wait and see what happens to you guys!"
But Cliff didn't dare to say anything more, because in the corner of his eye, he could already see Ronan sitting back down at the soundboard. He immediately shut his mouth, quickly sat down at the keyboard, forced a big smile, and gestured an "OK" sign to Ronan, indicating that he was ready.
Witnessing all of this, Ollie covered his mouth with his right hand and mercilessly mocked, "Social skills: full marks."
Cliff rolled his eyes dramatically, but before he could retort, Ronan's voice rang out in the recording booth, "Ollie, I also hope your social skills are at full marks."
Pfft.
Maxim bent over and buried his head, using all his strength to hold back his laughter.