The Greatest Showman #686 – Devil Whisper

Faced with Valentino's retreat, Renly shrugged. Instead of continuing to press aggressively, he adjusted his posture, standing firm. He casually grabbed a ping-pong ball from the plastic bucket beside him, holding it lightly in the palm of his hand. He weighed it briefly, as if considering its weight, and flashed Jessica a bright smile. "I'm ready."

Jessica raised her hand in a gesture that silenced the noise around her. All eyes fell on Renly, the atmosphere now as tense as the NBA Finals.

Renly took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat. He focused on the red disposable paper cup, aiming without overthinking, without hesitation, and without distractions. Once his wrist was steady, he flicked the ball. A smooth arc formed in the air as the ping-pong ball sailed under the bright sunlight toward the cup.

It hit the red paper cup—just not where Renly intended. The ball bounced off the rim at a 90-degree angle, flying toward the bushes. The crowd let out a collective sigh, expressing regret and disappointment.

But Renly remained unfazed. With three goals and three chances, he still had room for one miss. Even if he didn't succeed on the first try, he could still tie Valentino and remain in the game. The missed shot didn't faze him—it was to be expected.

Yet the crowd grew anxious. With only two chances left, Renly's odds of winning were narrowing. A missed shot here meant the final attempt would be even harder. This is what made the penalty shootout so thrilling—opportunities were scarce, and the tension was palpable, like walking a tightrope over a cliff.

Beer pong, once just a casual party game, now carried the weight of a ten-whiskey wager and a three-shot tiebreaker. The stakes had skyrocketed, and the atmosphere was electric.

Voices buzzed as the crowd speculated on Renly's chances. Suddenly, Paul raised his hands and shouted, "Renly, you must win!" His booming voice sent waves of laughter through the crowd, even easing Jessica's nervous tension.

Jessica, biting her lip, noticed something small in the red cup—a card. It was easy to miss unless you were paying attention. If it weren't for Valentino's third shot, which had knocked the card out of the way, Jessica might never have seen it.

She looked at Renly with a worried expression, wanting to stop the game. But Renly calmly met her gaze, signaling her to stay calm. His confidence was striking, and for a moment, she felt like the younger one, despite the age difference.

As the noise around them continued, Renly remained perfectly focused, unaffected by the chaos. Jessica couldn't help but smile. Renly had a way of making others believe that, no matter the odds, he would find a way out of danger. Even Jessica found herself believing in the ridiculousness of it all.

Without warning, Renly threw the second ping-pong ball. This time, it landed smoothly in the cup after a slight bounce, settling in without hesitation. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, quickly followed by an intense silence. Everyone held their breath.

Valentino stiffened, his mind racing. Was this a sign? How would Renly perform now? Before he could fully process his thoughts, Renly threw a third ball—swift and unexpected.

The crowd's focus zeroed in on the ping-pong ball as it arced gracefully through the air. It seemed to slice through the sunlight, drawing a perfect path toward the cup. With a final soft descent, it landed, still and precise.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

The crowd erupted in cheers. High fives and shouts filled the air, as if a wave of energy had swept through the entire outdoor party. The celebration was so loud it even carried inside the building, where curious onlookers peeked out to see what had happened. Renly stood tall by the ping-pong table, surrounded by admirers, as the party roared around him.

Renly clenched his left fist behind his back, his palm slick with sweat. On the surface, he appeared confident, but even he knew that luck had played a part. There were no guarantees, and even the greatest could miss sometimes.

Valentino, meanwhile, was now in a dilemma. Renly had seen through the trick and adjusted his strategy accordingly. Yet Renly's true skill lay not in physics or luck, but in the piano. The principles of music, of balance and precision, mirrored the calculations needed to land the ping-pong ball accurately. Still, he couldn't deny the role luck had played.

"Renly! Renly!" Paul was the first to charge over, grabbing Renly in a tight hug and raising his arm in triumph. Renly chuckled, but there was a hint of something more in his eyes—an expression that spoke of relief.

Jessica, still laughing and cheering, met Renly's gaze across the table. But then something in his eyes caught her attention—a sly, knowing look. Just as she thought it was a trick of the light, Renly shouted, "Whiskey! Whiskey! Whiskey!"

The crowd quickly picked up the chant, "Whiskey! Whiskey! Whiskey!" The sound reverberated through the area, intensifying Valentino's humiliation. What had started as a playful dare was now a serious wager.

Ten glasses of whiskey. Anyone who tried to drink them all would likely faint, or worse. Valentino's mind raced in panic. Why had he agreed to this?

He looked at Renly—or more accurately, at Paul—hoping for mercy. Paul knew that no one could drink that much, but still, Valentino had to endure the consequences. The crowd's roars were deafening as Valentino hesitantly raised the first glass.

One by one, the glasses were consumed. Valentino struggled but continued drinking, even as his body protested. By the time he reached the third glass, he was vomiting beside him. Yet, the crowd cheered him on, urging him to keep going.

The scene became chaotic as two partygoers clamped Valentino's shoulders, forcing him to continue drinking. A plastic hose was placed in his mouth, funneling the remaining whiskey into him. By the end, Valentino's eyes rolled back, and he staggered drunkenly, eventually falling into the pool with a splash. The laughter was deafening.

As the chaos ensued, Renly quietly slipped away, his work here done. He said a quick goodbye to Jessica and helped Paul out of the party. With Paul safely in the passenger seat, Renly drove away from Beverly Hills, heading toward West Hollywood.

Paul, now recovering with a sobering potion, took the drink without protest. He sat up straighter, watching Renly. For a moment, the tension faded, but Renly's eyes betrayed a deeper feeling—a loneliness that no victory could fully erase.