The Greatest Showman - Chapter 799: Mouth Full of Bitterness

Standing frozen in place, Eddie felt as though his chest had caved in. He opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but no words came. In the end, all he could do was stand there in despair, a bitter taste filling his mouth as confusion clouded his mind.

There exists a mysterious quality known as stage presence—an intangible force that can be sensed but not seen. Veteran actors exude an aura that suppresses those around them, and just moments ago, Eddie had felt it emanating from Renly. It was absurd. Wild. Unrestrained.

Eyes, expressions, movements—lines, emotions, physicality. This was not some amateur's raw, unrefined talent; this was a masterclass in academic performance. Within Renly's every action was a controlled power, an invisible thread weaving the entire narrative together. Eddie could feel it—Renly's energy rising steadily, pulling the performance into his grasp, bending it to his will.

In the second half of the "Red and Black" aria, Enjolras was meant to take the moral high ground, subduing Marius' passion with the force of conviction. That was the script. But during the performance, something else happened. From the very beginning, Renly's emotions were so intense, so intricate, so devastatingly real that they seeped into every moment, dragging Eddie into the current against his will.

To keep up, Eddie had instinctively pushed harder, trying to establish a counterbalance, to stake his own presence in the performance. But despite his best efforts, he was being overpowered. No matter how he struggled, he remained at a disadvantage, his movements restrained as if bound by invisible chains. By the second half, he had been reduced to a spectator, dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of Renly's performance. He felt small. Insignificant. Inconsequential.

It wasn't just the strength of Renly's acting—it was his interpretation. Traditionally, Enjolras commanded attention because the revolution itself was a noble cause, an undeniable force. But in Renly's portrayal, Enjolras wasn't great because of the revolution. He was great because of the fire in his heart—the unrelenting, all-consuming passion that drove him forward regardless of the cost. It could have been the revolution. It could have been love. It didn't matter. His devotion burned so fiercely that it seared itself into the souls of those who watched, leaving them breathless and teary-eyed.

And that was the real reason Eddie felt so small. Next to Enjolras' fervor, even Marius' love seemed trivial.

Clenching his fists, he willed himself to fight back, to reclaim some semblance of control. But it was futile. A wave of exhaustion washed over him.

He hated Renly. And he hated himself. Because deep down, he knew the truth—the stage never lies. The disparity in skill was painfully obvious. Renly's performance had been flawless, irrefutable, untouchable. And Eddie? Eddie was jealous.

Jealousy is a demon that gnaws at the soul, breaking down resolve piece by piece until all that remains is darkness.

Taking a deep breath, he let the bitterness settle before forcing his hands to move. Applause. It was the least he could do.

Thunderous applause filled the room, reverberating through the air. Standing on stage, Renly could feel the satisfaction swelling in his chest. He exhaled slowly, taking in the moment as he bowed in gratitude. The tension that had gripped him eased slightly.

He had given his all to that performance, refining every movement, every shift in emotion with deliberate precision. Even the moment he leaped onto the table and chairs had been pre-planned, designed to make full use of the stage. In film, such theatrics might be excessive, but on stage, where subtle eye movements are lost on the audience, grand gestures ignite the climax.

And it had worked.

Now, standing there, revisiting every second of the performance, he realized that this had been one of the most fulfilling moments he'd had in six months. It wasn't just about returning to the stage—it was the culmination of everything he had learned from Hollywood.

From "Buried" to "Blue Valentine," from "50/50" to "Drive," each project had honed his craft, sharpening his technique, deepening his understanding. If he had never ventured into film, if he had remained confined to London's West End or Broadway, he wouldn't have evolved the way he had. And if he hadn't explored the emotional depths of "50/50" and "Drive," his command over the stage today would not have reached this level.

Perhaps, right now, this very moment, was his peak.

Excitement thrummed in his veins. He loved this stage. He loved this moment. Performance ran in his blood, intoxicating him.

Turning his gaze to Eddie, who still stood frozen, he nodded politely. Their scene had been a duet—both actors essential to the push and pull of emotions. Even an Oscar-winning actor like Eddie Redmayne was a force to be reckoned with.

Eddie blinked, as if startled, then hesitantly returned the nod with a forced smile before quickly looking away, retreating into his thoughts.

The applause had already begun to fade. After all, this was only an audition, not a full performance. Cameron Mackintosh turned to Tom Hooper, raising an eyebrow. "Jean Valjean?"

Tom hesitated. Renly was undeniably brilliant—his portrayals of Éponine, Javert, and Enjolras had all been distinct, each with its own unique energy. His range was remarkable, a testament to his extraordinary talent. Jean Valjean was certainly within his reach.

But Renly was only twenty-two. On film, where even the slightest detail is magnified, that youth would be impossible to mask, no matter how refined the makeup. And besides, the role of Jean Valjean had already been locked in—Hugh Jackman. With his presence, experience, and undeniable talent, Hugh was the perfect choice. Replacing him with Renly would be unthinkable.

Tom was nothing if not a traditionalist—cautious, precise, unwavering in his adherence to established conventions. Historical dramas were his forte, and "Les Misérables" was no exception.

If he had his way, Renly would be cast as Marius. But, unfortunately, Renly had no interest in that role.

"We'll see," Tom finally said, ever the pragmatist. "We need to look at the bigger picture. Today's audition is just one piece of the puzzle."

Cameron nodded. He agreed. Renly's audition had been spectacular, but was it enough to challenge Hugh Jackman? That was a question that required careful thought.

As he prepared to respond, another thought crossed his mind. He turned to Tom. "And the other candidate?"

Tom shrugged. "We'll have him audition again. His fundamentals are solid, and his performance wasn't bad. We'll assess him alongside the other contenders."

Cameron accepted this without argument. Turning back toward the stage, he called out, "Alright, that concludes your audition." His gaze landed on Renly. "Unless you have something else you'd like to showcase?"

Renly chuckled. "No, I think I've taken enough time. Let's not delay the other auditions."

Theater was unforgiving. A great actor must consistently perform at their peak. A two-minute aria was enough to showcase one's level; anything more was unnecessary.

With a final bow, Renly exited stage left, making way for the next performers.

Eddie hesitated. He glanced at Cameron and Tom, but they said nothing. His heart sank. Had he lost his chance? Had he ruined his opportunity?

The thought unsettled him. He needed to leave. Now. Lowering his head, he hurried past Renly without a word, disappearing down the corridor before his composure shattered completely.