The Greatest Showman #865 - Through the Thorns

The massive expanse of Madison Square Garden was eerily silent. The clear, soft sound of guitar strings flowed like spring water, filling the air. The warm and moving stories, the bittersweet and sorrowful ones, the romantic and beautiful tales, and the lost and longing ones were all told through simple guitar chords.

Delicate, deep emotions hung in the air like the gentle breeze of early March. They were warm, golden, and soft, brushing against the face like a tender caress. Unconsciously, the corners of the mouth lifted, but the eyes, inexplicably, welled up with tears. A glorious halo rippled before my eyes, like a bright star.

"I love you so much, but you'll never know; I am so reluctant, but I must pretend to be indifferent. I am so eager, but I fear the loss." In truth, deep down, I long to stay with you until my temples turn gray.

Such is the nature of secret love—bitter yet sweet, joyous yet sorrowful. It is like the whale named Lisi in the deep blue sea.

This enormous, magnificent creature swims freely. The turbulent undercurrents pass by, the fish dance around its wings, and the birds rest on its back. Yet there are countless untold stories. It sings alone, dances alone, lives alone.

The rising corners of the mouth, the falling tears, the overwhelming surge of happiness—the most intimate and grand emotions of the heart break down all defenses. My mind fell blank, simply watching the stage, listening to Renly's voice quietly, helpless, unable to control myself.

Twenty thousand people were in the audience, each of them moved by the simple yet profound emotions conveyed through the guitar. Secret love, attachment, sorrow, and joy echoed through the music, touching everyone deeply. Slowly, we all sank into it.

Tonight, Madison Square Garden became the most special and warmest corner of my memory. It was not just a concert for Heather Cross or Renly Hall, but for every one of the twenty thousand people present. It was the power of music that made it so.

Heather extended her right hand, every cell of her being reaching out. She yearned to bridge the space between her and Renly. But as her fingertips drew near, they curled back—touched by the sun, longing for warmth yet afraid of the closeness. Gravity pulled at her, and she collapsed, curling into herself.

She couldn't even stand. She couldn't speak. What should she do?

The quiet, low sounds of her struggle went unnoticed in the vast, silent expanse of the arena. But Ellie saw.

Through her tear-filled eyes, Ellie watched Heather struggle to rise. Overwhelmed by emotion, Ellie rushed to help but, confused and uncertain, she hesitated. Heather's condition was fragile; why would she try to stand? Could she even do it?

But Heather refused the help. She pushed Ellie's hands away weakly, but with firm resolve.

With her gaze locked on Ellie, Heather's voice broke through her tight throat: "I need to do this myself."

That decision was final. Ellie froze, unable to speak, slowly releasing her grip. She stayed close, watching, ready to assist if needed. Derek, noticing the situation, hurried over, his red eyes betraying the rawness of the moment, joining Ellie in standing guard.

Heather ignored them, focusing entirely on her task. Her hands gripped the armrests of her wheelchair. Every ounce of her strength was used to support her body, but the weight was overwhelming, and her legs offered no support. Still, she pressed on, her hands trembling violently, her resolve unbroken.

Slowly, inch by inch, Heather managed to stand. Her legs shook, her body swayed, but Ellie and Derek were there, steadying her just in time, preventing her from falling. For most people, standing is a simple, everyday task; for Heather, it consumed all her energy.

Still, she smiled. A bright, radiant smile.

Through the haze of lights and shadows, through the barriers between them, Heather saw Renly. He was still immersed in his music, playing with all his heart, his eyes full of gentleness and depth. There was a fleeting, shimmering light in his gaze.

"I want to stay with you..." Renly's voice faltered, choked by emotion. The pain, the sadness, weighed heavily on him, halting his song. A moment of silence hung in the air, filled with helplessness.

Taking a deep breath, Renly gathered himself, continuing, "I want to be with you, through death, because you'll always be there when I need it most."

The longest confession is the promise of eternal companionship. Even if death comes, even if the world falls apart, the heart's eternity endures, woven in moments of mutual support. In the face of time, space, and death, all that remains is each other.

Heather stood there, torn—desperate yet hesitant. The closer she came, the more she pulled back, weighed down by a deep despair. She took a tentative step forward but could go no further. She stood frozen, overwhelmed by tears.

Ellie stood beside her, already crying. The beauty of the moment only made the reality more painful. Seeing Heather's internal conflict, Ellie, too, was overcome with grief. At just sixteen years old, Heather's life had barely begun.

Derek, unable to watch, looked away, feeling a deep, helpless sorrow. For the first time, he hated himself for not being able to do more.

Through the divide between light and darkness, Renly's eyes sought Heather out. He saw her—fragile yet unyielding, the girl whose life was weak but who refused to give up. He saw the soul that burned with passion, chasing a dream despite her limitations.

In her, he saw himself, and the parts of him he had once let go of. He longed to see her future—to watch her rise again, to step into her own world, to realize her dreams. Perhaps, one day, he too would find that strength.

"I'll love you to the last breath, until death takes me away, sworn to immortality." The music swelled, and Renly's voice surged with powerful emotion, his soul's weight filling every note. "So I wrote this song for you and told everyone that I'll be with you until we're both gray."

His fingers stopped on the guitar strings, and the air grew still. The world seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself paused, the heartbeat of the audience reverberating in the silence.

Puff, puff, puff… The rhythm of life pulsed through the space, emotions colliding in a suffocatingly beautiful reaction.

Renly looked in her direction, whispering softly, "I just ask you not to let go, and I promise you won't leave."

In that moment, Heather's emotions broke, and tears flooded her eyes. The spotlight on the stage transformed into a burst of color, like countless stars scattered across the sky. The world seemed to brighten with her.

She stood there, unable to move or speak, laughing and crying in a frenzy, as if she had lost all control.

Hope Bates understood now. The meaning of the concert, the song, and Heather Cross's name—it was all about the pursuit of dreams and the passion for life.

Everything became clear.

This had always been Renly's way, from Don Quixote to One Man's Concert. Each step in the pursuit of dreams is firm and resolute, with life's meaning blooming little by little, bright and proud.

Tears blurred Hope's vision, but she didn't wipe them away. She followed Renly's gaze, hoping to find Heather in the crowd, hoping she would respond, that she would find the strength to stand again and chase her dreams.

In that moment, they were all Don Quixote. All of them—Renly, Hope, Derek, Ellie, William, Graham, Timsey, and every soul in the audience—were dreamers, walking alongside each other on the path of life.