Five Hundred and Fifteen Years

"So, are we really strangers?"

Ollie stared at Ronan, and the confusion in his eyes slowly dissipated the focus. Only then did Ronan realize that it was his humming that moved Ollie.

More importantly, during the period after the Grammys ended, the band members were busy without touching the ground, but everyone had different sentiments and experiences, from Maxim and Cliff back to the hotel. It can also be seen from the behavior, and they have not been able to make an exception.

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"I just……"

Ronan tried to comfort Ollie, but the words came to his lips and stopped - because of Sophie? Because of Trastan? Or because of Alice?

Sophie's affairs are other people's private affairs and cannot be said; Trastan's affairs are irrelevant and needless to be said; Alice's affairs are confidential matters and cannot be said.

So what should he say?

Ronan paused and hesitated, and there was a moment of silence, and the air slowly settled like this.

Ollie didn't seem to be ready to wait for an answer at all, but just looked at Ronan sadly and blankly—but after the focus collapsed, his vision had already disappeared into nothingness, and then, with his head lowered, he slid down the sofa. Slumped down on the carpet, he casually picked up the newspaper and fountain pen on the coffee table, without flipping through the blank pages, and started to write freely on the typeface.

Swipe!

In the quiet night, you can clearly hear the sound of the pen tip across the paper, which is different from the sound of the computer typing on the keyboard. This sound is lighter and more trivial, but the fragrance of ink permeating under the nose can make people calm down. It seems to temporarily strip away the fast pace of the Internet age, and really slow down the heartbeat and breathing, without anxiety and irritability or fragmented time, and truly enjoy a moment of peace with peace of mind.

In less than five minutes, which seemed to be just a breath, Ollie dropped the fountain pen, rubbed his back like a caterpillar, and went back to the sofa bit by bit, lying silently in the posture of a corpse. On the sofa, it seems that you are catching the heartbeat of the sofa with your ears.

The stiff and weird movements make people laugh, just like a weird little fresh movie.

"Ollie, are you okay?" Ronan asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm not good." Ollie replied very seriously.

Ronan tilted his head, wanting to say something, but looking at Ollie in the "dead corpse" state, he just felt childish, and it seemed that it was not as bad as he imagined, so he swallowed his words, and the smile on the corner of his mouth rose again, quietly After watching Ollie quietly for a while, his smile became brighter again.

Then Ronan raised his eyebrows slightly, looked away, picked up the "Los Angeles Times", and at a glance, he could see a newly released lyrics written on top of a homicide report, as if he could see Seeing the blood dripping from the back of the text, Ronan began to browse carefully.

When browsing to the beginning of the second paragraph, "Four days of being in love with her..." Ronan almost burst out laughing, but he still controlled his smile. After thinking about it, he changed "day" to " Year", which seems reasonable; but even so, one can still feel the deep sorrow in the text.

Apparently, Ollie is still getting used to — does Vanity Fair have real feelings? Maybe yes, but it is more rare than ordinary interpersonal relationships, because the colorful Vanity Fair has too many interests intertwined, revealing the sincerity often means exposing weaknesses, and everyone needs to protect themselves.

But Ollie wasn't used to it.

Of course, Ronan wasn't used to it either.

Ronan thought, maybe the melody should not be so sad, but as light and relaxed as possible, so that strong emotions can leave more aftertaste.

Turning his head, Ronan saw Ollie's eyes. The hazy eyes that hadn't woken up hid a ray of light, a sad, lost and lonely light, and at the same time, there was a little hope, but he couldn't tell——

Whether to expect Ronan to give an answer, whether Stephanie will appear again; or to expect Ronan to complete the creation and interpret his mood with melody.

Ronan can't do the former; but at least Ronan can accomplish the latter.

"Mmmmmm...mmmmmm..."

Ronan hummed the tune softly, like a lullaby, walking through the ivory white moonlight and the deep sea blue starlight, as if he could feel the waves kissing his toes, and his restless and turbulent mood could not help but settle down slowly, even without musical instrument accompaniment , can also feel that touch of tenderness.

To be precise, it is precisely because there is no accompaniment that the beauty of Luo Nan's singing is more prominent, as if the "Surfing the River During the Qingming Festival" is slowly unfolding in front of your eyes.

Inspiration, flowing and colliding between the lines of the lyrics, negative emotions mixed with bitterness, sadness, lamentation and pain permeate into the cold moonlight, those sharp edges and corners are gradually smoothed, and the graceful and light melody brings a little sense of relief Frankly, then the chemistry happened.

Sad but not hurt; bitter but not astringent.

"Your photo is still on my bedside. You said that the feeling between us has changed. I don't want things to develop like this. I want you to continue to love me." (Note 1)

Singing narration, those emotions and images are all hidden in Ronan's singing, making people follow the melody and enter a new world, and then the light in the depths of Ollie's eyes slowly dimmed, not because of disappointment, but It's because of falling into memory and losing focus.

At least, at this moment, he can calmly wake up those picture fragments in his mind, instead of being trapped in an emotional cage and complaining about himself.

"During the four years of being in love with her, time is both the healer and the executioner. All I have left are memories, and my whole mind is full of regrets."

Ollie slowly closed his eyes, and there was a struggle between his brows.

Ronan couldn't help but glanced back at Ollie. He liked the lyrics the most, "Time-is-healer-and-killer (Time-is-healer-and-killer)".

Hidden behind the pain and sorrow, in fact, Ollie can see clearly and thoroughly—time can heal everything and also kill everything, the beauty and ugliness will reveal their original appearance in the long river of time, he Just wait patiently, wait for time to give the answer, and everything will slowly surface.

Is Stephanie real or fake? Is the memory of just four days a dream or imagination? Just like the love in "Roman Holiday", it is not real enough because it is too beautiful, but it is even more embarrassing because it is real enough.

Time will eventually prove everything.

But the problem is that even if we read all the books in the world, we still can't find the right answer about "love".

That kind of sigh and hesitation, that kind of struggle and pain, always lingering, like a black hole swallowing all my reason, even though I knew it was just a nightmare, I still couldn't help curling up, hugging my knees tightly, trying to keep warm, Trying to find a trace of peace in the cold moonlight.

Note 1: Strangers (Strangers——Sidecreek)