Chapter 735: Seven Hundred and Three Pick-Up Treatment

"It's just me, or does everyone feel this way? From London to New York, it doesn't feel any different," Donald said, walking ahead and speaking to Renly, Jennifer, and the others. "The only difference is that this round-trip ticket won't come out of my pocket."

Renly's credit card was the one doing the contracting.

"Yes, you are alone," Paul Walker replied, causing everyone to chuckle.

Donald's eyes widened. "Paul, you've learned badly!" he said, stunned. The old Paul wouldn't have made such a joke, much less...

Jennifer immediately chimed in. "Who taught them all?"

"Renly!" Donald said without hesitation. But before he could continue, a loud shout rang out from behind, "Renly! Renly!"

Donald couldn't help but laugh. "Look at that, someone agrees with my answer!" But his words were drowned out by the crowd. His smile stiffened at the edges.

Outside JFK Airport's arrival hall, a massive crowd surged, overwhelming the space. The sheer number of people made it feel as though even the walls might collapse at any moment. The automatic doors at the end of the hall couldn't close, blocked by the horde. It was enough to make someone with claustrophobia feel dizzy. The chaos outside was like a relentless wave, crashing again and again, as if the crowd were a tsunami. Shouts pierced the air, a mixture of cries and screams, all directed at one person. "Master! Ahhh! Master..."

The crowd was packed tightly, shoulder to shoulder, and the noise was deafening. The entire airport felt like a small boat in a storm, tossed about by the waves, struggling to stay afloat. The overwhelming force made Renly's head spin. He could only hear the white noise of the crowd—humming, static, and chaos.

Flashes of light exploded around them, blinding everyone for a moment. The silver brightness felt like a waterfall, and the heat from the flashes could even be felt on the skin. For a split second, it was as if everything went white, like snow blindness, but without the darkness—it was pure, overwhelming brightness.

Not only Donald, but the rest of the group was stunned. One moment they were chatting casually, and the next, they were thrust into this sea of frantic people, blinded by the flashes. Their first instinct was to look to Paul—he was the most experienced and senior actor among them.

But Paul, overwhelmed by the attention, waved his hands and pointed to Renly. Only then did the others realize that the shouts were for someone else. Renly was now the center of attention. It felt strange—like thousands of eyes were on him.

It was absurd, and Renly couldn't help but laugh as he waved his hand. "How would I know?" he said, raising his head to look at the tumultuous crowd. He couldn't make sense of what was happening. "It wasn't like this when I left Heathrow. I don't know what's going on."

Last night, Renly had been on the phone with Andy, who hadn't mentioned anything unusual—only the usual itinerary to check after returning. So what was causing all this?

"Since they're here for you... good luck," Jennifer said with a sympathetic look, patting Renly's shoulder before quickly walking away.

Before Renly could respond, Donald stepped up and hugged him, his expression one of mock sadness. Donald deliberately created space, leaving gaps in the embrace as if to mock the gravity of the situation. "You're on your own now," he said, eyes wide with exaggerated grief.

"Hey, this isn't a funeral," Renly joked, bewildered. But Donald just wiped away imaginary tears and turned away.

Then Kaya, Alexander, Tony, Will, and finally Paul all stepped up, smiling. Renly looked at Paul, slightly incredulous. "You wouldn't..."

Paul spread his hands helplessly. "If you need help, I'm willing to stay. But the others are calling me... I think I should go." He laughed, then hurried to catch up with the rest of the group.

The crowd outside continued to roar as Renly and his group walked calmly toward them. The crowd parted, creating a path for them to exit—almost effortlessly, thanks to the security personnel who maintained order with little resistance.

Renly looked back at the assistants following behind, about fifteen paces away. In front of him, the sea of people stretched on—at least six hundred strong. It was more overwhelming than the "Don Quixote" audition party. He couldn't quite figure out what was going on. This was a first for him.

Renly knew that this wasn't the only thing he'd face in his career, but this was a new level of chaos. As unnerving as it was, he braced himself to face it. Fans, as always, were unpredictable, but he would meet the challenge head-on. Even though he had often felt helpless in the face of enthusiastic fans—Toronto, Sundance—he still moved forward, stepping into the chaotic sea of people.

"Ahhh!" The screams rose again, a boiling mass of noise that reverberated throughout the arrival hall. The heat and intensity of it all were palpable, as though the tropical warmth of Equatorial Guinea had taken over, but it was December, the dead of winter in New York.

Amid the madness, the shouts grew louder, losing all meaning but full of emotion—excitement, joy, and urgency. The airport security wall began to tremble as the crowd pressed against it, threatening to break through.

Renly quickly realized that things were getting out of control. His mind raced: Should he stay for the interview, or leave before it got worse? His past experiences—reading magazines, watching the news—told him he needed to leave before it escalated. And that's exactly what he did. He started moving quickly through the crowd, the shouts growing sharper in his ear.

But when Renly reached the exit, the crowd was too packed to allow him passage. Unlike when Paul and the others left, this time there was no gap in the sea of people. The human wall before him was solid, no way through. Renly finally understood why superstars needed bodyguards.

Before he could ponder more, Nathan, his assistant, appeared, rushing to his side. Roy, his manager, had stayed behind in Los Angeles for the awards season promotion, so Nathan had taken charge.

Renly waved at Nathan and then looked back at the tumultuous crowd. He couldn't move forward, only back. Nathan and the other assistants stood frozen, unsure of how to handle the situation.

Renly raised his hands to signal for calm, but instead of quieting the crowd, his action seemed to stoke the fire. The noise escalated, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had erupted.

Fans, unpredictable as ever. Renly could only laugh weakly at the absurdity of it all.

Amid the chaos, he finally heard the shouts clearly. "Excuse me!" "Premier!" "Jennifer!" "Album!" "Popularity!" "Bieber!" "Award Season!" "New Work!" and... Justin Bieber?