King of Stage

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The quiet and spacious hotel lobby with people coming and going, is still a lively and busy scene. Thick clouds are stacked on top of each other outside the window. The whole city is still silent with a little solemn sight, and the image of a solemn and solemn city. It seems that it has penetrated into the bones of this land, and people can't help but miss the elegance of New Orleans and the gorgeousness of Las Vegas. The colorful colors bloom in the heat of midsummer.

"Ronan, do you think we have missed the reporter? Didn't you decide where to meet with him? It's just the hotel lobby?"

Cliff lowered his voice and couldn't conceal his anxiety. He asked Ronan with his mouth, while his eyes kept looking at the figures coming in and out, trying to lock the suspected reporter's figure. The whole body has been twisted 72 degrees. , Is about to complete a twisted posture.

Ronan had to tell Cliff for the seventh time, "Yes." But the subsequent explanation has been omitted. He believes that Cliff didn't really want an answer. He just asked subconsciously, trying to use this Way to relieve tension and anxiety.

However, in Ronan's view, the results were minimal.

I glanced at the multinational clock hanging in the hotel lobby, showing the accurate time of different countries and regions. Among them, North America is divided into three time zones: West, Central, and East. It is now 3:02 in the Eastern Time Zone, which is far from the phone. The appointed interview time has just passed two minutes.

Ronan didn't think it was late. After all, he was in a hurry to make an appointment on the phone today. If the traffic jam time is added, it is a normal state that can be understood within 15 minutes of error.

"Ronan, you turn your head and come here."

Maksim's voice came from behind, Ronan turned his head and looked over without knowing it. Then he saw Maksim staring at him and started...doing his hair, Ronan was full of question marks, "Huh?"

Maxim did not answer Ronan, but carefully sorted his hair-when he was upstairs, he spent 30 minutes taking care of his own hair, and Ollie complained that he might have put half a bucket of wax on his head, even if the typhoon Here, this hairstyle will never be disrupted, but now it's again?

"Wait, you won't be..." Ronan couldn't say it, couldn't believe his judgment.

"Don't blink." Maxim said quickly, "eyes wide, um, good." Maxim was borrowing Ronan's pupils as a mirror.

Slowly and slowly, Ronan rolled his eyes up and faced Maxim with his eyes blank.

But Maxim didn't care at all. He satisfactorily finished his "mirror" work, patted Ronan on the shoulder, "Thank you", then turned his head and complained about Ollie, "You are holding your phone again, are you sure about the phone? Is the screen still intact? There are no cracks due to your enthusiastic eyes?"

Ollie was completely immersed in the game and ignored Maxim at all.

"coming!"

Cliff's tense voice came from the side, continuously beating Ronan's arm, but the pattering was like a waterwheel made of feathers, there was no power but interference, "Is it him? It's him! He looks like a reporter! Ah! He has seen us!"

Before the words could be finished, Cliff realized that he had exposed his whereabouts. He turned around and pretended that nothing happened. He kept winking at Ronan and Maxim, "Don't turn your head, don't turn your head," Otherwise, your whereabouts will be exposed."

Ronan just thought it was funny, turned his head and looked over, only to see the person Cliff thought was a reporter, just walking through the hotel lobby towards the elevator. Cliff was still pulling Ronan’s. There was no sound from his arm, but Ronan's eyes were pulled back with his facial expressions and his claws.

"He left." Ronan said to Cliff, dumbfounded.

Cliff didn't understand, "Huh?"

Ronan repeated it again, "The man left." Cliff immediately turned his head and looked over, staring blankly at the back disappearing in the elevator door, "This is Washington, and there must be a lot of reporters, but even if it is The reporter does not mean that he came here specifically to interview us."

At this moment—

"Sorry for being late. I hate Washington because the traffic here is as bad as New York. It's terrible." People arrived first before they arrived, not in the direction Ronan and Cliff looked in, but from the other side. He walked around and appeared in front of them accurately.

The reporter in front of me...very ordinary, a smoky gray golf shirt with black overalls, and a small black bag with a long shoulder strap slung on his left shoulder. I am afraid that it will not attract too much attention when it is thrown in the crowd. The only thing that looks unusual is that His face.

The red-black-red-black skin can see the traces of the sun burned for many years, and there is still a faint white outline around the eyes. You should have the habit of wearing sunglasses, and you can see that it is a person who has been running outside for a long time.

Wyatt noticed the sights cast by the band members and looked around the four people. Then he took out the business card holder from his pocket and handed it to the four people one by one. Finally, he found Ronan accurately. Introduce yourself formally, "Wyatt Garcia, reporter for Rolling Stone."

Although I didn't say much, the meaning conveyed by the eyes couldn't be more obvious:

I am not a scammer.

However, Ronan lowered his head and rubbed the business card carefully, reading it carefully, his actions and demeanor released an obvious signal: business cards can also be faked.

This caused Wyatt Qiqiao to smoke, and his foul language was almost on his lips. Ronan did not expect Ronan to take a step forward, "Sorry for doubting your identity. Please forgive my impoliteness. The main reason is that we are flattered. We never accept it." I’ve interviewed a magazine, and the first time it’s Rolling Stone, this level of treatment is like a dream. Even now, we can’t believe it.”

First, apologize, and then lower his posture to show his admiration.

Wyatt’s temper was abruptly suppressed, UU reading www.uukanshu.com looked at Ronan’s bright eyes, slightly stunned, and gradually aftertaste came over—

Ronan was teasing him.

As a reporter for "Rolling Stone" magazine, even Bruno Mars attaches great importance to it. Wyatt has become accustomed to the lightness of talking and laughing among big-name celebrities. Suddenly he was questioned on the phone, inevitably impatient, but in the end It was teased by the young band in front of me.

After calming down at this time, Wyatt looked at Ronan again, with a trace of scrutiny in his eyes.

The last time I hurriedly glanced at the Verizon Center, Wyatt left no impression at all, but when we met head-on today, the whole image suddenly became vivid:

Tweet texts, YouTube videos, and pitifully scarce information, those fragmented and trivial information were put together and finally condensed into the appearance in front of them. It was the first time we met, but it seemed that we had known each other for a long time.

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