The Greatest Showman #869 - Deeply Rooted

"Wonderful, absolutely wonderful! Wow! I can't even find the right words—this is, without a doubt, the most incredible concert I've ever seen!"

"There were no special stage effects, no lighting extravaganza, and even the costumes were simple. To be honest, I was a little disappointed at first. My expectations for a concert were always that it would be grander, more dazzling. But, after tonight, I can't deny it—this concert was unique. Truly one-of-a-kind. I think it'll stay with me for a long time."

"Renly Hall—a brilliant actor, yes; but a singer? That seemed like a joke. Yet, tonight, I stand corrected."

"I enjoyed the Don Quixote album, but seeing Renly live... that experience took it to another level. How do I describe it? His music has always had this profound power, but live, it's even more intense, more moving. I'm convinced now—he's not just a great actor, he's a true singer."

"I can't quite answer your question. My mind is still lost in Renly's voice—'Cleopatra,' 'Your Bones,' 'Simple Life'... and let's not forget 'Time.' Jesus Christ, can you ask if this concert will be released on DVD? I want to relive it already."

"You can hold onto your skepticism, dismiss it as hype, think it's all a show. Everyone has their right to their opinions. But, one thing's for sure—it was an unforgettable concert, and Renly Hall is nothing short of a genius."

"It's like how Woody Allen may be seen as a narcissist and Clint Eastwood as a misogynist, but their directing talents are undeniable. It's the same truth here—Renly's concert was that good."

"Honestly, I'm a little lost for words. If Renly became a full-time singer, I think he might become an even greater artist. I know, it sounds ridiculous, right? He's a great actor, but after tonight... I don't want this to end."

"I loved it. I really loved it. I absolutely loved it!"

The applause swelled like an unstoppable tide, the crowd flooding out from Madison Square Garden in waves, buzzing with lively conversations, playful banter, and endless praise. The once-chilly evening air seemed warmer now, softened by the collective joy that filled the streets. Even the streetlights seemed to shine a little brighter.

The reporters, who had been waiting for hours, were now rushing to interview the attendees, eager to capture every reaction. But it seemed that all the answers were the same. Everyone was in awe, thrilled, surprised, and filled with excitement. The bright-eyed, tear-filled expressions were proof of how deeply the concert had moved them. The air was thick with shared admiration.

Unanimous? What had just happened at Madison Square Garden?

Confusion and disbelief rippled through the reporters. Had they missed something? Should they have joined the crowd and seen it for themselves?

Then, keen-eyed reporters, like Bradley Adams, Eli Wallach, and Gavin Hunter, noticed their colleagues in the crowd. Quickly, they gathered around to exchange thoughts. The perspectives of fellow professionals always felt more relevant.

"I'm telling you, this concert was special, unforgettable... unique..."

Before Gavin could finish, Cornell cut him off, his irritation clear. "Please, Gavin, spare me the formalities. If I wanted to hear those pleasantries, I'd go ask the 20,000 people behind you. I'm not interested in hearing that."

Ignoring Cornell's interruption, Gavin simply said, "I have no more words." With that, he turned to interview more fans, determined to get more genuine reactions.

Cornell, however, wasn't done. He grabbed Gavin's arm, clearly frustrated. "Tell me one thing: was this concert really put together in just four days?"

"Yes," Gavin replied, looking down at Cornell's grip. Cornell tightened his hold, though still hesitant. "Just four days? Like the New York Times said, it was for that girl, right?"

Before Gavin could answer, Cornell showed his impatience again. Gavin pulled away from Cornell's grasp and turned to face him, his voice rising in anger. "Cornell, let me tell you something. Renly didn't just put on a concert—he wrote a brand-new track specifically for that girl. If you were really listening, you'd understand. You're spreading false information."

"Bullshit!" Cornell snapped.

Gavin didn't back down. "Why are you refusing to believe the truth? It's all right in front of you."

"Because this is Hollywood," Cornell spat. "There's no truth here, only lies. Everything that man does has an agenda, a purpose."

His outburst drew the attention of the surrounding crowd, many of whom shot confused and angry looks in his direction. A few couldn't hold back, shouting, "What did you just say?"

Realizing the attention he'd garnered, Cornell quickly controlled his emotions, plastered on a smile, and waved off the tension. "It's nothing. Just a conversation, nothing more. We're all here to find the truth, aren't we? Or have you forgotten why you became a journalist?"

Gavin wasn't having it. "You're the one who's forgotten the truth, Cornell. You've sold out. You're fabricating stories. Do you remember why we got into this field in the first place?"

Gavin poked Cornell's chest, his frustration evident.

Cornell shook his head, walking away. His attitude seemed final, his interest in the concert faded. The crowd was still celebrating, singing praises, and Cornell knew there was no story left for him here. Everyone was focused on Renly, and he wasn't about to join the growing circle of admirers.

As Gavin watched his friend disappear into the throng, he sighed. It was said that college years were the best, but once you entered the professional world, that idealism gradually faded. All Gavin could do now was hope things wouldn't change too quickly.

Turning back to the bustling scene, Gavin refocused on the crowd. He, too, was part of this historic night. His duty was clear: to witness and report on the sensational event that had just unfolded.

On February 16, 2012, One Man's Concert concluded its record-setting run at Madison Square Garden, breaking numerous records: the shortest promotional period, the fastest sell-out, the quickest ticket sales, and the briefest performance time.

Incredibly, tickets for the concert were only available in-person and sold out by 9:00 AM that morning, with over 20,000 fans vying for tickets. Despite the overwhelming demand, the concert itself was almost a financial loss, with the venue fees barely covered. It was, in fact, the first concert in Madison Square Garden's history to sell out but still lose money, earning a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Tickets were sold at a starkly low price—just $49 for infield seats and $19 for stand seats, making it the cheapest concert the venue had hosted in over a decade.

Yet, despite this financial anomaly, Renly Hall's Cross Fund was born shortly after the concert. Dedicated to supporting minors with serious illnesses and funding research into rare diseases, the fund's first contribution was the entirety of the ticket revenue, donated without any deductions.

Two days after the concert, the fund received a $5 million donation, signed by the Don Quixote team. This was only the beginning of the fund's impact.

Was One Man's Concert a loss or a success? The answer remains elusive. But what is clear is that it became one of the most influential single concerts of the 21st century. Not just for its groundbreaking moments, but also for its lasting artistic and commercial influence. In the end, Don Quixote went on to become the most iconic and artistic album of the millennium, cementing its place in history.

In every heart, there lies a story—a past, a loss, a regret. In essence, everyone has their own Don Quixote.