The-Greatest-Showman

Arthur watched Renly silently.

Renly sat elegantly, his left leg crossed over his right knee, hands casually resting on his knees, his posture leaning back in a relaxed manner. A soft glow surrounded him, emanating a warmth that made others feel at ease, almost involuntarily.

Yet, beneath the calm exterior, there was an unmistakable aura of controlled power—someone capable of making quick, decisive actions when necessary.

Suddenly, Arthur couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, delighted laugh. His long, narrow eyes sparkled with amusement.

Arthur had always known that Renly, despite his outward appearance, was the most dangerous member of the Hall family. He would rather face Elf and Elizabeth at the same time than confront Renly alone. But, unfortunately, only Edith trusted Arthur's judgment. No one else seemed to grasp that the seemingly harmless Renly, the one devoted to the world of performance, was actually a dark and calculating figure.

Now, it was George and Elizabeth's turn to feel the heat, and just the thought of their embarrassment and predicament made Arthur laugh even harder. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time.

"You know, this is the first time I like you," Arthur said with a slight tilt of his chin, his voice taking on an air of arrogance.

Renly shook his head. "Thank you, but I must formally decline."

Arthur almost choked on his whisky. His reaction was subtle, but enough to cause a brief moment of discomfort.

Renly pretended not to notice, instead, switching topics with ease. "Don't tell me you came to Los Angeles to find yourself and your dreams." His words were sharp, and the fire of his complaints left little room for compromise.

After regaining his composure, Arthur smirked and sighed. "Renly, you've learned badly. In Hollywood, is speech always so direct? That sarcasm—so blunt and low-level. It's disappointing. There's no refinement, no charm. Edith too—speaks so plainly, with no flair."

"You mean, you'd like to have a heart-to-heart with Elf?" Renly teased lightly, a metaphorical knife thrown with precision.

Arthur spread his hands in mock frustration. "See? You have no patience, no class now. Everything's so simple and crude... wait, wait, don't go."

"I came all the way to Los Angeles, specifically for Oscar night, just to talk to you, and now you're leaving... Renly Sebastian Hall! Alright, alright. I'll be honest, there's no humor at all. Princess Beatrice keeps saying you're a very humorous guy…"

"Don't stare at me. I got it. Okay, okay, I'm not changing the subject. Jesus Christ. Did Edith say that? You're a demon, yes, a demon."

Arthur's words were a mask, the disguise of every nobleman. His bohemian persona, easy social interactions, and carefree demeanor allowed him to blend in effortlessly with the crowd, masking his true self. Unlike Elf, Edith, and Renly, Arthur was the best at concealing his real nature.

When the banter died down, Arthur grew quiet and picked up his glass, gently swirling the whisky, warming it with the palm of his hand. It was a forbidden action, but he did it purposefully, almost theatrically, as though watching the liquid swirl was an art—a beautiful yet fleeting spectacle.

"I have no idea."

The noise of Oscar night continued on, but the space around Renly and Arthur felt separate, as if it were a world unto itself, surrounded by the hustle and bustle, yet untouched.

Arthur smiled bitterly, tugging at himself with a self-deprecating laugh. For the first time, he and Renly seemed to share something, like the masks had slipped, revealing a mutual understanding. Their eyes met, and for a moment, it was as though they saw each other clearly.

"I don't know why I came to Los Angeles, why I came to this party, or why I'm even sitting here. Do you believe it?"

Arthur met Renly's eyes as he spoke, his gaze calm and open, but his words heavy with an unspoken vulnerability.

Renly nodded slightly, his understanding palpable. "I believe it."

For some reason, Arthur felt a lightness, as if a weight had been lifted, even if just for a moment.

He lowered his eyes again, shaking the whisky in his hands absentmindedly. "Before, Edith had to stay in London for over a month. They moved Denise and struck at Edith's vulnerable spot. Then there was a private party... Andre and Eaton were there. Ha."

Arthur chuckled, but the laughter was fleeting. He fell silent, lost in thought. "After all that, I just wanted to escape. Elf thinks I betrayed my parents, that I'm needed in London for work, that it's because of the Hall family's connections. But…"

Arthur paused, his voice softer. "But sometimes, I wonder, what if I need myself too?"

His words, tinged with confusion, echoed a deep loneliness. His eyes became glassy as if staring into an abyss, but he fought to maintain his composure.

With a quiet smile, Arthur looked up again, meeting Renly's gaze. "So, I bought a ticket and flew here. Why? Ha, I don't know. Do you know, Renly?"

Arthur's eyes were earnest as he sought answers from his brother, revealing an unexpected vulnerability.

Renly didn't immediately respond. He watched Arthur for a long moment, his expression thoughtful before speaking softly:

"When I immerse myself in performance, I can clearly know who I am, what I am doing, and where I am going. It could be called a dream, or freedom, or even ego. Ultimately, they're all the same. The only certainty is knowing what I want."

He paused, then continued. "A lot of people live their whole lives not knowing what they want. And even if they have a goal, they don't know what they're chasing. It's not about class or origin. Everyone at this party is chasing fame and fortune, but they don't even know what that really means. Money? Glory? Fame? Title? Connections? Or just a sense of existence?"

Renly leaned forward, his voice becoming more earnest. "But that's normal. Only a few people know what they want. Even if they don't know, at least they understand what they don't want. That's when they begin to search. Life is long and short. If you don't grasp it, it will slip away in the blink of an eye."

Renly's words were met with a quiet reflection from Arthur. The two spoke in harmony, a rare moment of connection between them, amid the chaos and superficiality of Oscar night.

Arthur's gaze was fixed on Renly's face. Despite growing up together, it seemed they had never truly understood each other. But then again, who among the nobles ever truly understood one another?

"So, that's why you chose surfing and rock climbing?" Arthur asked after a pause.

Renly chuckled. "Yes, that's why. And next month, I'm heading to New Zealand to learn skydiving. I'm even considering getting my pilot's license."

"And the show?" Arthur inquired.

"Don't worry, I need a long vacation. After all, I'm not a robot."

Arthur laughed lightly. "Ha, are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Their conversation flowed seamlessly, and for a brief moment, a subtle smile crept onto Arthur's lips.

In that instant, Arthur seemed to understand. He knew why he had come to Hollywood, why he was at Oscar night.

Renly Hall. That was the answer.

Deep down, Arthur knew it was the right answer, but he wasn't ready to admit it. They were still strangers sharing the same name, not true brothers.

"Renly, I'm sorry."

The sudden words made Renly pause. He looked at Arthur in confusion, but Arthur simply lowered his gaze, shaking his head with a faint smile. "It's okay."

From the start, it had been clear that Renly was a talented actor, with potential far beyond what his family could see.

The family had received invitations from prestigious institutions like the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, and Renly had passed auditions for the West End. But all of these opportunities had been intercepted, and the letters were blocked.

Renly never knew about these opportunities.

In the end, George and Elizabeth had forced Arthur to write back, declining the offers on their behalf.

Arthur did, and now, he carried the weight of it all.

4o mini