Happiness. Joy. Elation. Exhilaration. Excitent.
An all-encompassing explosion.
Passion surging, blood boiling, every cell in the body trembling uncontrollably, surrendering completely to the mont.
Words couldn't describe even a fraction of what Camilla felt right now. Then, like a madwoman, she threw all reason to the wind.
Screaming, just screaming with abandon, losing herself in the mont.
Ah, ah, ah. Ah, ah, ah.
It was as if she could feel the energy of her soul burning. She scread and scread, and tears fell like rain. As she scread, her smile grew wider. Camilla knew she had completely lost her mind, emotions derailing like a runaway train—but she didn't care.
At this mont, at least this very mont, she was happy. That was enough. Tears and smiles alike were all forms of happiness.
This was the power of music, the strength of a performance. The band's emotions poured into the music, those carefree, unrestrained, joyous, and free-spirited feelings transford into lody, awakening a deep resonance.
No one could resist it.
Turning her head, Camilla could see Pauline, eyes brimming with tears but overjoyed.
You look at , I look at you.
Both looked at their friend's crazed expressions and burst into laughter, not hiding or wiping away anything, allowing their disheveled state to be on full display.
Then, they fully enjoyed it.
Ah, ah, ah, ah!
Again and again.
The energy swept across the venue, rising with each mont.
In the center of the crowd, Anson looked at the sea of people before him, the waves of excitent, his emotions surging, a warm current fiercely rushing through his chest.
Caught off guard, his eyes welled up slightly.
Stepping forward, Anson shouted into the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlen, we are August 31st Band!"
Boom!
Instantly, energy exploded, the entire place erupted.
Anson turned to look; Lily was smiling, Connor was smiling, Miles was smiling too.
A quick glance exchanged between each of them revealed similar expressions of happiness, even down to the curvature of their smiles.
Ha!
Laughter resonated in their chests—
This wasn't the first ti.
During their street performances across Europe, they had introduced themselves more than once. The journey of August 31st Band was already halfway through. But today was different, completely different. They had truly let go of their burdens, showing the world their music and earning applause.
More than applause, those smiles, that joy, that happiness. Those cheers, jumps, and enjoynt were the most precious responses.
This was the charm of music.
Then.
Anson turned to the crowd once more.
"Hey! Let's keep this going and have a blast!"
With his words, the crowd went wild. No pleasantries, no small talk, diving straight into the performance, everything was about the music—
Given the heated atmosphere, this was the perfect mont to perform this song.
Camilla froze for a mont before realizing, grabbing Pauline and shaking her madly. "'Wake Up,' 'Wake Up,' they're about to play it!"
This was a party, a full-blown party, like a music festival.
Vroom, vroom.
As Bertrand-Scali rode his motorcycle to the street corner, he could see the crowd and the chaos from afar.
He had just received a report about a traffic jam needing a traffic cop on the scene to maintain order. Bertrand thought it was a joke—
Because the report said there were more than a thousand people gathered.
Bertrand: ??? How is that possible?
Even a major chain traffic accident wouldn't attract that many people.
If it was a Hollywood movie shoot? Unlikely, and they would have received a notice if a crew was filming on the street.
Honestly, Bertrand couldn't imagine what would draw such a crowd, no matter how he thought about it. Was this so delayed April Fool's prank?
However.
When he arrived on site, Bertrand's steps involuntarily slowed down. Seeing the spectacle before him, Bertrand felt the report was inaccurate.
A thousand people?
More like!
At least over fifteen hundred, maybe even two thousand.
Bertrand was dumbfounded: What now?
He couldn't possibly control this with just himself. A slight mishap could lead to an unnecessary disaster.
Imdiately, Bertrand called for backup, quickly reporting the scene.
The response was that they would send additional support; anwhile, Bertrand was tasked with temporarily controlling the situation to avoid any incidents.
Phew.
Exhaling deeply, Bertrand looked at the dense crowd ahead—
Control the situation? How? He was just one person!
Amid his confusion, a deafening, passionate live performance echoed from the front. Bertrand couldn't help but look over, and soon found himself humming along.
This is... kind of interesting.
Then... well, it just kept going—
The performance continued.
By the ti the full backup of traffic cops arrived on the scene, an hour had passed. Wave after wave, request after request for support, they finally managed to gather enough personnel to cover three different directions of the area.
Bertrand had long gotten used to Paris' pace of handling matters, and he wasn't planning to complain; he just suggested that since the street performance was nearing its end, instead of abruptly disrupting and causing chaos, it might be better to wait patiently. They could prepare in advance and guide the crowd after the performance, like at a music festival.
His suggestion was adopted.
And so, an unusual scene unfolded near the Luxembourg Gardens—
The police were maintaining order at the scene, resembling a music festival. People kept arriving, filling up the surrounding three blocks.
Moreover, new spectators arriving at the scene saw the police maintaining order and assud it was an official event.
Word spread quickly.
More and more people flocked to the site.
By the ti the mayor of Paris heard about it, TV stations and dia reporters had already arrived, capturing this extraordinary mont.
Things seed to be slipping off track.
Especially when a helicopter arrived above Luxembourg Gardens for a live broadcast, the crowd raised their arms high, cheering toward the helicopter.
Even Anson and the others were bewildered—
How did it get to this point?
And then, when the Paris police arrived, things peaked.
Not just traffic cops, but actual police officers maintaining order.
They crossed the Luxembourg Gardens, appearing behind the band mbers. A group of dia reporters was already there, ready to rush forward upon realizing Anson was in the band, but they were stopped by the police.
The police stated, for safety reasons, that the band should leave via the Luxembourg Gardens; they needed to go to the police station for questioning.
Wait, were they planning to arrest the band mbers?
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