The Greatest Showman

{“Water flies straight down three thousand feet—Has the silver stream of our galaxy plunged from highest heaven?”}

These verses from Li Bai’s seven-character quatrain vividly depict the grandeur of a waterfall, and, at this moment, the dazzling explosion of camera flashes truly brought the magnificence of those poetic lines to life before Renly. The overwhelming burst of light erupted unreasonably before his eyes, leaving him no time to react before plunging his vision into darkness. It was merely a blink of an eye from extreme brightness to absolute darkness. In that fleeting instant, Renly felt as though he had been transported back to the coffin in ‘Buried’.

The glaring light pricked at his eyes like needles as fine as ox hair, causing him a faint ache. Without thinking, and driven purely by reflex, Renly raised his right hand, his fingertips lightly tracing the contour of his brow bone. He attempted to shield his eyes with his palm to ease the discomfort. Almost immediately, he could feel the faint heat radiating onto the back of his hand, vividly conveying the intensity of the camera flashes.

The initial moment of being caught off guard, and the instant tension and oppression, quickly dissolved into a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

Renly found it somewhat absurd, even a bit contrived. At last, he understood why celebrities, when caught in paparazzi’s lenses, would either bow their heads, cover their faces, or carry sunglasses wherever they went. Sure, maintaining an image was one thing, but protecting their eyes and avoiding the flashes was the real reason.

Unconsciously, he too had raised his right hand to shield his eyes. At that moment, he had become one of those dishevelled—or pretentious—celebrities he’d seen on computer screens before. Suddenly, Renly no longer felt so tense.

Daisy Lucas, on the other hand, felt as though her long-dormant girlish heart was about to explode. Watching Renly awkwardly and clumsily shield his eyes, yet allowing a faint smile to curve his lips, she saw in him a blend of mischief and nonchalance, elegance and youthful energy, composure and a touch of nervousness. That fleeting beauty made her heart skip a beat.

The last time “Vanity Fair” did an exclusive interview with the cast of ‘The Pacific’, Daisy had already been deeply impressed by Renly—not so much for his appearance, but for the wit and sharpness he displayed during the interview. Later, when editing the interview and selecting photos, she noticed something odd: Renly in the photos seemed to lack the same vitality. It wasn’t that he wasn’t photogenic, but rather that the real-life Renly left a stronger impression.

Only today did Daisy finally understand why—it was his eyes, that smile, and the way his features carried a unique blend of boyish charm and mature masculinity. This distinct aura simply couldn’t be captured by a camera. In his every movement, Renly exuded a charisma that made Daisy’s heart tremble slightly. She couldn’t stop herself from furiously pressing the shutter button, even though she knew it was futile; she could never freeze this moment in time. But the fireworks in her mind wouldn’t stop, blooming like a Fourth of July celebration.

Unconsciously, Daisy took a step forward, only to find her waist pressed against the railing, preventing her from moving further. Leaning slightly forward, she desperately tried to capture the moment on film. “Renly…” The name lingered in her throat, unspoken, when a thunderous shout from nearby broke her concentration. Daisy turned toward the source of the voice—it was Bradley Adams from The New York Times.

“Renly! Renky Hall! Renly!” That shout was urgent and clear, full of excitement and fervour.

Immediately, all eyes turned to Bradley. Most people were puzzled, wondering why he was calling out such an unfamiliar name. Many began whispering among themselves, “Who’s that?”

The Emmys featured over forty categories, with more than 450 nominees in total. Even in the core acting categories, there were at least a hundred nominees. Given the inclusion of guest actor categories—ranging from established stars to emerging talents and seasoned supporting actors—remembering every name was no easy task, let alone matching names to faces.

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For most people, Renly Hall was still an unknown actor—both his name and face were unfamiliar.

Yet now, amidst a star-studded gathering that included high-profile figures like Tina Fey and Bryan Cranston on the red carpet, a journalist had singled out an obscure individual by name. It was truly… shocking. And when people realized that the journalist was none other than The New York Times’ Bradley Adams, the commotion grew even louder. The awards ceremony hadn’t even begun, but the gossip mill already had fresh material.

Renly lowered his hand. Though the camera flashes still flickered, they were now more dispersed and less blinding, allowing him to breathe a small sigh of relief. Following the sound, he turned toward the source of the shout and saw an unfamiliar face—or rather, a journalist’s face, which was always unfamiliar to him.

Looking around, Renly noticed that many actors were standing nearby on the red carpet, being interviewed by reporters. It seemed this was the designated interview area. With that realization, Renly took a step forward and walked over.

The passageway allowed space for only four people to pass at a time, so in just two steps, Renly was in place. Bradley immediately felt a sense of pressure, instinctively raising his head slightly to meet Renly’s eyes while extending his recording pen forward. “It’s your first time at the Emmys. How do you feel?”

It was a standard question, one asked to almost every newcomer. “So many people?” Renly lifted the tone of his voice at the end, feigning a confused expression. “It reminds me of Manhattan traffic during rush hour.”

Bradley couldn’t help it—but to burst out laughing. It was such an amusing comparison. “And how do you feel being part of it all?”

“I’m trying to imagine all of this as Coachella,” Renly shrugged, delivering a playful quip. “That feels much better than thinking of it as gridlock.”

Not just Bradley, but even the reporters nearby couldn’t help laughing. “So you’re not nervous at all?” Bradley pressed on.

Renly pondered seriously for a moment, gently tilting his chin down. “Actually, I’m a little nervous. I’m worried that after walking the red carpet, no one will notice my presence, and I’ll just drift by like a ghost. Then I’ll go home and tell my friends, ‘Hey, I went to the Emmys,’ and no one would believe me. I’m still considering whether I should grab a photo with Jon Hamm or Matthew Fox to add some credibility.” He paused briefly, a flicker of humour crossing his face. “But now, I feel a lot more at ease.”

Once again, Renly’s self-deprecating humour and wit struck the perfect balance, lighthearted yet charming, prompting a burst of laughter from the surrounding reporters.

From a distance, Daisy could see the lively and relaxed atmosphere among the reporters around Renly, their laughter rippling outward. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration. More than anyone, she understood how delightful it was to interview Renly. The blend of wit and thoughtfulness was like digging for treasure—a joy in itself.

Glancing around, Daisy made a snap decision and began moving in Bradley’s direction. “Excuse me, please let me through,” she said as she navigated the crowd, determined to get closer. But she quickly realized it wasn’t going to be easy—because she wasn’t the only one with that idea.

“So, you’re not worried about tonight’s award?” Bradley’s question shifted the focus. “This is your first time being nominated for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series award. Do you have any special thoughts about it?”

Bradley’s question seemed to jolt the memory of the other reporters nearby. One by one, they began recognizing the young man before them—the twenty-year-old who had accomplished a modest but remarkable feat. Renly was undeniably one of the biggest surprises on this year’s Emmy nomination list.

In an instant, the questions became more pointed and concentrated. “How do you feel about your chances tonight?” “Are you excited about your first nomination?” “As the only acting nominee from your cast, what did the other actors have to say about it?”

Suddenly, the cameras and microphones swarmed toward Renly with a surge of energy. Though slightly overwhelmed—this was a scene unfamiliar to him even after living two lifetimes—Renly didn’t flinch. Instead, he chuckled softly. “Now I finally feel a bit like a celebrity,” he said. “You know, when you watch awards shows on TV and imagine being one of those people up there.”

The reporters chuckled again at his casual humour. Renly continued, “As for the nomination—of course, I want to win. It’s a tremendous honour, isn’t it?” His straightforward and candid response won over the crowd immediately. There was no empty politeness, no pretentious mask. Renly’s words exuded confidence but without arrogance, making him all the more likeable. Compared to the often dull and lifeless red-carpet interviews, this was refreshingly engaging.

“But,” he added, “it’s like the election for prom king and queen at a school dance. We all know there’s only one winner. Just being nominated means I’m handsome enough and popular enough, right? I think I’ll enjoy the glow of the nomination and quietly wait to see if a miracle happens.” His elegant London-accented voice carried a touch of sly humour and sharp wit, leaving the reporters laughing again.

Bradley couldn’t help but want to applaud Renly. Such poise, humour, and authenticity, paired with an effortlessly distinctive interview style—even seasoned Hollywood veterans couldn’t always pull this off. And this was only Renly’s first time being on the red carpet. It was truly impressive.

“Excuse me, coming through.” A voice rang out, and turning around, Renly saw Kristen Wiig. She was dressed in an elegant silver evening gown, but her expression was comically exaggerated. She bent forward awkwardly, mimicking an embarrassed man caught in an unfortunate situation. Making exaggerated facial expressions, she said to Renly, “I need to… um… cool down.” As she spoke, she fanned her cheeks with her hands, as if trying to calm her “burning” face.

Her antics were unmistakable—she was teasing Renly, implying he was just too “hot.” The reporters burst into laughter at her playful gesture.

Meanwhile, Daisy, still stuck in the crowd, wore a look of frustration and irritation. “What now? What is it this time? Why is everyone heading in the same direction? Is there no one other to focus on this red carpet?”

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T/N – Author was really glazing Renly in this chapter, but hey, I am not complaining

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