The Greatest Showman – Chapter 870: The End of the Song

Eight hundred and thirty-four songs and people scattered.

Manhattan at midnight is brightly lit and sleepless, even as a cold wave strikes. The creamy yellow halo of the streetlights mingles with the night sky, casting long shadows over the branches, drawn carefully against the deep navy of the evening. In this quiet harbor, distant laughter drifts through the air, though the snow-covered streets are still.

Mount Sinai Hospital, operating around the clock, looks like a pencil sketch under incandescent lights. The outlines of a castle in the snow stand lonely, illuminated by a few simple strokes of light. Inside the hospital, the quiet hum of footsteps and the soft clatter of rolling carts fills the corridors, as if there's no real difference between day and night.

From a nearby ward, laughter and chatter spill out, followed by hushed "shh" sounds in an attempt to maintain silence, but the joy and energy of the night can't be contained, lingering in the air and adding a vibrant pulse to the darkness.

After the "One Man's Concert," the Mount Sinai Hospital team escorted Heather back to her room. Despite their best efforts to keep the noise to a minimum and avoid disturbing other patients, the excitement from the evening still hung in the air, like a pulse of adrenaline that couldn't be stopped.

Renly slowed his pace, politely avoiding the raucous atmosphere, when suddenly, the door to a nearby ward opened. A young woman stepped out, holding a child in her arms.

The woman appeared to be under thirty, her long blonde hair slightly disheveled, as if she had just lived through a whirlwind of excitement and hadn't had time to fix it. "Hey, Renly, what are you doing here?" she greeted him with a bright smile. "Tonight's performance was amazing! You really outdid yourself."

It was Joss-Seliman, Anne's mother.

"I came to see Heather," Renly replied, smiling back. He hadn't seen Heather face-to-face since she'd woken up.

Joss raised her chin in understanding. "Is Annie asleep? You'd better take her back to bed soon."

Annie, half-asleep on her mother's shoulder, stirred at the mention of her name. She blinked groggily, rubbed her eyes, and looked around. When she saw Renly, she mumbled, "Mom, I want to go to the concert…" Her flushed cheeks and messy curls made her look like a little doll, her voice faint but full of yearning.

Before Joss could respond, Annie snuggled back into her mother's shoulder, murmuring, "Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow…" and promptly fell back asleep.

Joss smiled, gently patting Annie's back. "She had the wildest night of her life. She didn't want to sleep at all, kept talking about the concert, and was trying to keep her eyes open. She was scared it would all be over by the time she woke up."

Joss' voice had a note of tenderness and affection as she spoke.

Renly's smile widened as his gaze fell on the peaceful, rosy face of the sleeping child. "You should tell her to sleep. That way, she can keep all the beautiful memories in her dreams."

Joss was caught off guard by Renly's thoughtfulness. After a brief pause, she nodded and, holding Annie gently, began walking toward the ward. But then, she stopped, turned, and called after him.

"Renly."

Renly turned, meeting her eyes. He hadn't changed much from the concert, still wearing a simple white shirt, blue jeans, and a long, smoky-gray trench coat. No frills, no elaborate disguises—just clean and fresh. But there was something different about him now. The warmth of his presence, the gentle, almost fragile air about him, contrasted with the performer who had just graced the stage. Here, in the quiet of the hospital, he seemed more like a volunteer, familiar with the place, simply doing what he could.

Joss' gaze softened. "Thank you," she said, her voice thick with gratitude.

Renly's smile remained steady, not overly humble, just acknowledging her thanks with a slight nod. His calm demeanor made Joss chuckle.

"Come in and see Heather. She should rest as soon as possible. I'm sure she'll want to see you before she falls asleep."

After giving Annie one last affectionate look, Joss went into the ward.

Renly, with a deep breath, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

As soon as he entered, Heather spotted him, her face lighting up. She raised her hands in mock surrender. "I surrender," she said playfully, blinking at him. "You're right, Renly. You kept reminding me, and now, finally, I admit it. You win."

Her words were a bit slurred, still recovering from the aftermath of the concert, but the sentiment was clear.

Renly glanced over at Ellie and Derek, who both wore expressions of relief and excitement, clearly reassured by Heather's words. "At least it seems like the treatment worked tonight," Renly said with a smile.

Heather exaggeratedly rolled her eyes, then lifted her chin defiantly, tapping the side of the bed with a dramatic flair. "And what about my song? I didn't even get the client's consent to use my essay as inspiration. Is that against the law? Should I call my lawyer?"

Her playful demeanor made Renly laugh.

The song "Say You Won't Give Up" had been born from Heather's diary entries—a secret confession of her love for Renly. Heather wasn't shy about it; rather, she brought it up with a cheeky, self-assured attitude, staring at Renly with a bold calmness. There was no hesitation in her voice, no shyness in her eyes. The confident, slightly mischievous Heather that Renly knew had returned.

Renly gave a slight chuckle and tilted his head. "The articulation is so clear, there's no issue at all. I kept my promise, and it seems you've kept yours as well."

Renly's easy-going approach to Heather's condition—mentioning her coma as if it were just another fact of life—was almost startling. He acknowledged it without flinching, without any sadness, as though it were part of the journey. For Ellie and Derek, it was a lot to process. They had been trying to shield Heather from the harsh reality, living in a bubble of joy, hoping to avoid any sorrow. But Renly had confronted it head-on with a casual, almost nonchalant grace.

Heather, instead of recoiling or showing distress, burst into soft laughter, gradually growing louder and more uncontrollable, her shoulders shaking with joy. Seeing her laugh like that, Ellie and Derek exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of what to do next. They looked at Renly, a mix of anger and blame in their eyes.

But Heather waved them off, still laughing. "I'm fine. Really. I know what's happened to me, and I know what I'll face next. But I'm awake, and that's all that matters." Though some words were lost to her hushed voice, the meaning was unmistakable.

Her eyes then met Renly's, and in that silent exchange, she spoke clearly, every word filled with determination: "I won't give up."

Renly's gaze softened, a warm smile tugging at his lips. Only those who have truly faced life and death could truly understand that unspoken bond of resilience. He wasn't a father—he couldn't grasp the full weight of their emotions—but he understood the spirit of perseverance.

"Then can I assume I still have permission to use that song?" Renly joked, shifting the topic. "Of course, I'll send you the copyright fee bill regularly."

Derek, clearly lost in the conversation, interrupted. "Wait, what song? What copyright? A lawyer?"

Renly and Heather exchanged a glance, both momentarily unsure of how to explain the tangled mess of feelings and events.

The song "Say You Won't Give Up" was inspired by Heather's personal diaries—her secret crush on Renly. Renly had composed it from those writings, a bittersweet anthem of unrequited love and personal resolve. But to explain all that now, in front of Heather's father? That was a delicate matter.

Renly, ever the gentleman, chose silence, leaving the decision to Heather.

They shared a quiet laugh, but Heather, ever the one to change the subject, said, "I told you—you were amazing tonight. You would have been perfect at the Grammys. You're going to be there, right?"

Derek, still lost in the previous conversation, fidgeted anxiously, scratching his head, clearly overwhelmed.