Portland, Maine
A city and state that rarely, if ever, hosted major music events was now the epicenter of one of the most talked-about concert shows in the entire United States. This wasn't just any show—it was an Ethan Jones concert, and everyone knew what that meant: billion-streamed songs blasting from every speaker, lights cutting through the night sky in an insane choreography of colors, laser beams dancing across the crowd, confetti cannons erupting like fireworks, pyrotechnics igniting in perfect sync with each beat, massive LED screens projecting every move in crystal clarity, synchronized dancers, a live band performing intricate arrangements, massive fan chants echoing through the city streets, audience participation segments that left everyone screaming, and for the luckiest few, a chance to go home with a cash prize reaching up to a million dollars.
But this wasn't just a regular Ethan Jones concert. This was the last concert of the 'One of a Kind Tour'—a historic tour that had spanned every state in the United States except Alaska and Hawaii, the first and only tour to gross over a billion dollars, the first interstate tour for Ethan Jones, the first to sell out stadiums in multiple cities in under an hour, the first to have fans streaming live in tens of millions from home, the first to integrate interactive technology allowing fans to vote for encores and surprise moments, the first tour to collaborate with international streaming platforms to break regional streaming records simultaneously, and the first to inspire spontaneous viral challenges on social media at every stop. The tour had shattered records for largest crowds in single cities, highest gross per show, most sold-out venues across multiple states, highest social media engagement per concert, and longest single-day ticket resale spikes—truly unprecedented.
And now, in the good old port city, known affectionately as "The Forest City", it was coming to an end. As Ethan's last tour concert, the whole city had gone absolutely mad. Over 70% of the attendees tonight were from outside Portland, many traveling from neighboring states, and over 40% were international fans, shouting for him to bring the tour to their countries—a detail that had drawn particular interest from the UMG representatives in attendance.
The fanfare alone had caused ticket resale prices to skyrocket. The average resale ticket had surpassed $8,000, eclipsing even the last Super Bowl. VVIP meet-and-greet tickets had gone for as high as $21,000, bought by Dorothy Wang, a billionaire's daughter and social media influencer, while other premium tickets fetched prices between $12,000 and $19,000, snatched up by a mix of massive influencers, YouTube streamers, wealthy young entrepreneurs, reality TV stars, and even their crews, who were using the event to shoot episodes for upcoming series. What had started as a concert had evolved into a cultural phenomenon, an event that seemed destined to leave its mark on history. Vivienne, Ethan's creative director, couldn't help but feel the magnitude of what was happening; with Rebecca carefully guarding every aspect of the show, it was clear that this was more than just a performance—it was the birth of a cultural force, one that would ripple far beyond Portland, far beyond the tour, and far beyond the music itself.
The city mayor and even the state governor had stepped away from their usual schedules to attend the concert, feeling the weight of the event firsthand. Coming in, they had expected grumbling from the locals—after all, the streets were flooded with spoiled, flashy teens and twenty-somethings from across the country, their designer outfits and luxury cars an undeniable statement. Reports had already started trickling in: complaints about the noise late into the night, about traffic jams clogging the narrow streets of Portland, the occasional littering in historic districts, the disruption of local businesses unable to cope with the sudden influx, and even the excessive partying in waterfront condos and high-end apartments. The police force had initially called for backup from nearby towns, anticipating disturbances and potential unrest.
But all complaints vanished as the monetary impact of the visitors became apparent. In just a single day, Portland had seen over three million dollars in extra revenue flowing through local businesses. Hotels had sold out, boutique restaurants and seafood joints reported record reservations, the city's famous waterfront boat tours were booked solid, souvenir shops were overwhelmed, and even smaller ventures like local coffee carts and artisanal ice cream stands had raked in unexpected profits. Observing the sudden wealth these "bratty rich kids" brought, the noise and complaints quickly died down. To those who didn't own businesses benefiting from the influx—the office workers, stay-at-home parents, and residents whose routines were disrupted—it seemed unfair, yet the conversations among neighbors and friends about skyrocketing profits softened most grievances. This influx of wealth, energy, and excitement became another win for entrepreneurs over the nine-to-fivers, the city buzzing with the thrill of new money circulating.
The weather was perfect, the cameras were rolling, reality stars and influencers were already angling for their moments, plotting their content and drama, and everywhere, the crowd was alive with anticipation. Every attendee had a story, every influencer a motive—some purely personal, others aimed at Ethan, the undeniable star of the show.
At Bangor Waterfront, the iconic Portland venue had been completely transformed. Mark, the tour manager, along with Vivienne, the creative director, had overseen massive design works to turn the seaside location into a spectacle worthy of Ethan Jones' final tour. Though the venue only held 25,000 people, relatively small compared to other shows on the tour, the layout was unique, intimate, and visually stunning. Boats that had normally cluttered the docks were either asked to relocate or were redeployed as part of the event's aesthetic. Floating platforms and towers created a Monaco-esque seaside pool party vibe, the water reflecting colorful lights, the waves adding a rhythmic backdrop to the music. High-end drinks and VIP setups scattered along the shoreline added a glamorous energy, while the stage itself—a floating flotilla anchored in the middle of the beach—stood as a marvel of engineering and imagination, framed by yachts and illuminated towers.
The Prime Boys, Ethan's brand sponsors, had taken no chances, ensuring a ten-million-dollar yacht with the Prime logo decked prominently in front a showcase of their newfound wealth. Surrounding it were yachts and boats from other major brands, from high-end tech companies to lifestyle and luxury labels, all filled with influencers, media personalities, and guests ready to document the spectacle. The entire event had morphed into a teenager-energy-filled, Monaco Formula 1-style concert, a rare hybrid of music, luxury, and live entertainment spectacle, every element meticulously designed to awe.
As the crowd gazed at the massive floating stage, excitement rippled through every corner. Fans whispered and pointed, struggling to imagine how Ethan would make his entrance. Known for insane, jaw-dropping entrances, he had already set the bar high with previous shows: descending from helicopters in Miami, dropping from cranes above stadiums in Chicago, appearing mid-pool in Los Angeles, sliding down custom-built slides in Texas, arriving via jet ski in Seattle, and even replicating the iconic Michael Jackson stage jump during a show in New York just two stops ago showing that his father adventurous dna had actually been passed down. Each entrance had been legendary, viral, and breathtaking, and tonight, everyone knew that anticipation would be met with spectacle. The crowd buzzed, eyes glued to the stage, hearts racing, ready to witness the final, unforgettable chapter of the One of a Kind Tour.
Before anyone could see him, they heard him. His voice blasted through the speakers mounted on the yachts, the floating stage, the grounds, and even through strategically placed public-address systems along the seaside. From every vantage point—from the docks to the tents, from the shoreline to the decks of the luxury boats—his presence was already felt.
"November 17th, 2020..."
The moment those words echoed across the waterfront, the crowd erupted in murmurs, shouts, and confusion. People scanned the horizon, craning their necks to spot him. "Where is he?" someone yelled. "That voice—don't you recognize it? That's Ethan!" Others leaned over the rails of yachts, peered through binoculars, climbed the viewing platforms, and scanned the tents. Eyes darted from one shadow to another, as the anticipation of finally spotting him made hearts race.
Ethan didn't care that they were looking. His voice carried over the ocean waves and bounced off the surrounding buildings, commanding attention. He began to speak with the speed, intensity, and raw emotion of someone who had lived a lifetime in just two years:
"November 17th, 2020," he began, recalling the day he had been in his parents' home, uploading a video that had seemed small at the time but now represented the beginning of an unstoppable journey. "Not even two years later, I'm here, standing in front of you, and I want to thank everyone who made this possible."
He listed them one by one, giving them their due: "Manager—Bill. PR—Rebecca. PR assistants and superfans—Bella and Kiesha. Security—Marcus, Devon, Richard. My assistant—Dough. Tour manager—Mark. Personal stylist—Wisdom Kaye. Creative director—Vivienne. My faithful band and crew. My family—my stubborn sister, my awesome mother, and my newly adventurous father. But more than anything, I want to thank you—the fans. Without you, none of this would be possible."
His voice cracked slightly with emotion, the kind that only comes from genuine gratitude and exhaustion. "And though it pains me to say it, this tour has to end. But tonight… I'm going to drag this out. No one is leaving here until the sun rises tomorrow!"
The crowd erupted. Screams filled the waterfront. Hands shot into the air. Boats rocked as fans shouted and cheered. "Are you with us, Portland? Are you ready? Give it up for the DJ of the night, the one and only... DJ Dieselll!"
As if on cue, fireworks exploded across the sky, cascading over the water in vibrant streams of red, blue, and gold. Sparks reflected off the yachts, the water, and the sea of people. Fans looked toward the floating stage, and there it was—a massive DJ booth illuminated by strobe lights and lasers. And there, in full dramatic flair, appeared Shaq, striding confidently into view.
The crowd screamed, recognizing him immediately. His presence alone brought another layer of chaos and energy. Shaq grabbed the mic, his iconic sarcastic voice cutting through the noise:
"Now now… you all know I'm down to party all night! Let's go! Everyone, welcome your main man—the one, the only… Ethan Jonessss!" as he pressed some keys on his dj booth generating ligths sound effects and all
And then, for the first time, Ethan appeared.
A jet ski roared across the water, carrying him like a comet racing toward the floating stage. With perfect timing, he launched off a mini ramp, catching the crowd's collective gasp, and then—thanks to a hidden hydraulic platform—was lifted high into the spotlight, hovering above the stage. Spotlights, drones, fireworks, and strobe lights all converged on him, layering spectacle upon spectacle. The audience was hypnotized. Every scream, every cheer, every flash of light amplified the sheer gravity of the moment.
As Ethan landed on the stage, the crowd's energy hit a fever pitch. He didn't pause. The first thing he did made Bill almost faint from shock: Ethan began raving wildly into the camera, his voice soaring into high-pitched crescendos that sent vibrations across the waterfront. Lights danced off his sequined outfit, sweat glinting like diamonds under the pyrotechnics. The band and crew matched his energy, playing at full tilt, but it was Ethan who commanded everything, driving the crowd into a frenzy.
Finally, he screamed into the microphone, a voice full of adrenaline and fire:
"LET'S DO THISSSSSSSSS!"
The waterfront exploded in cheers, lights, and deafening sound, a tidal wave of energy that promised the night would be unforgettable.