The Greatest Showman #871 - Midnight Echo

At midnight, Heather completely ignored Derek's questioning and shifted the conversation. "By the way, are you attending the Grammy Awards?"

Renly, sensing the excitement in Heather's eyes, turned his attention away from Derek, who was still holding back, and nodded with a smile. "Yes, as a guest."

Instantly, Heather's eyes sparkled with envy, a glimmer of hope flashing in them. Without missing a beat, Renly added, "How about this? Would you like to come with me? I can bring guests, you know."

At the Grammy Awards, each guest is allowed to bring a companion—whether family, a partner, or a friend. Renly had remembered that Heather had missed the "American Idol" auditions, and maybe attending the Grammys would lift her spirits. It was a passing thought that he blurted out without hesitation.

"Really?" Heather exclaimed, her excitement palpable. She sat up straighter, her voice trembling with anticipation. "And Annie and Alex too? Before you came, those two were just asking, 'Can we go together? Is it really possible? Won't it bother you? Will the Grammys mind? Will the media judge you?'"

Renly chuckled, shaking his head. "No, of course not. There's no problem at all." He nodded again to reassure her, but his eyes flicked over to Derek, who was silently watching. Renly immediately realized: inviting someone to a big event, like a graduation ceremony, always requires more than just the guest's consent—it requires the approval of the parents.

With a friendly smile, Renly turned to Derek. "As long as your parents are okay with it."

Derek crossed his arms and gave a noncommittal grunt, not bothering to respond.

Renly smiled knowingly, nodding. "Well, it's getting late. You all should rest. The awards ceremony isn't until two days from now. We'll talk about it more then. Today, let's just focus on what we've accomplished."

"Yeah!" Heather nodded enthusiastically.

Renly didn't linger. With a polite nod, he said, "Derek! Ellie!" and made his way toward the door. Just before the door closed, Derek's voice could be heard, anxiously asking, "What was that about? What essay? What song? Why do you two have this secret code I don't know about?"

Renly's lips curled into a slight smile, the sound of Derek's questioning fading behind him as the door clicked shut. There was something endearing about the father's concern for his daughter.

The time was nearly midnight, and as Renly stepped outside Mount Sinai Hospital, the bitter cold seemed to have settled slightly.

The streets stretched out before him, empty and vast. The towering buildings on either side felt distant, as though the city itself had receded, and the sky above appeared like a vast, infinite chessboard, endless and open.

In the crisp air, Renly spotted Nathan Price and Roy Lockley waiting in the lobby. They greeted him and offered to drive him back to his apartment. After the ride, the two of them bade their goodbyes, and Renly was left alone.

At home, after a long, hot bath, the fatigue and chill in his body started to fade. Despite feeling physically relaxed, he found himself wide awake. This was unusual for Renly—sleep had always been one of his favorite escapes. But not tonight.

He had originally planned to go upstairs and spend some time with Matthew Dunlop, perhaps playing a game of chess. They had discussed this idea over the phone when Renly was in Berlin.

Renly quickly tidied up, grabbed two books from the shelf, and left his apartment with his earplugs and music. The brisk night wind greeted him as he walked down the street. After a couple of blocks, the temperature had dropped significantly, colder than the winters in London.

One of the perks of living in New York, though, is that there's always something open 24/7—like the supermarket around the corner.

The supermarket at midnight was quiet but not entirely so. Sparse customers meandered the aisles, pushing carts, some clearly with a purpose, others perhaps just wandering the endless shelves, searching for something—anything. In the otherwise stillness, they seemed like zombies from The Walking Dead.

Renly had never understood why he was drawn to these late-night shopping expeditions. Even in his past life, this had been a strange but comforting habit. There was something about the supermarket atmosphere that grounded him—more so than coffee shops or libraries. Even the occasional interruption of his thoughts seemed real here.

Instead of rushing to a corner and sitting down, Renly slowly pushed his cart down the aisles. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for. He had no need for anything, but he wandered aimlessly, stopping here and there to read labels, look at fresh produce, or observe a housewife comparing prices between two brands of detergent. It was a slice of life that somehow calmed his restless mind.

Whether as a reporter in his past life or as an actor now, observing life had always fascinated Renly. It was an art form in its own right, capturing fragments of other people's worlds.

After two rounds around the supermarket, Renly found himself by the cleaning supplies section. He sat cross-legged in front of a pile of Tide laundry detergent, took out the two books he had brought, and flipped through their pages. He couldn't help but smile softly.

The books were a strange pairing: The Endless World of England, a pseudo-classical thriller blending real historical figures with fictional characters, and Stoner, a philosophical novel by John Williams. The former was a complex narrative; the latter, a subtle exploration of a man's quiet, almost forgotten life.

After Matthew's careful organization of Renly's bookshelves, the titles were arranged alphabetically, which led Renly to randomly pick these two—an odd combination indeed. But that was part of Renly's charm: a penchant for spontaneity.

Settling on Stoner, Renly began reading. He had skimmed it once before but had always planned to revisit it. Now seemed like the perfect moment.

Before he knew it, he was immersed in the words, the world of Stoner pulling him in.

Then, the soft shift of a cart nearby startled him, its wheels grazing his knee. Renly looked up, catching sight of a petite figure with a peaked cap. She was partially obscured by backlighting, but Renly could see the faint wrinkles of her cheeks as she apologized softly.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," the girl murmured in a panic.

Renly, who had been listening to music with earplugs, didn't hear her, but he saw her lips move. "It's fine," he responded quietly, moving the cart aside to clear the aisle.

The girl nodded and thanked him politely before continuing on, her cart piled with cleaning supplies.

Realizing he might have been blocking the shelf, Renly stood, removed his earplugs, and prepared to move. The girl, seemingly concerned, hurriedly reassured him, "It's okay. I just need a bucket of detergent. I'll be done soon."

Renly smiled, then returned to his seat, cross-legged, across from the shelves. He moved the laundry detergent aside and put his earplugs back in, resuming his reading.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the girl had also sat down across from him. She was now studying the detergent, comparing different brands, as though contemplating the mysteries of Russian nesting dolls—all the same, but different in size.

Renly couldn't help but smile softly at the sight, and then, as if drawn into the moment, he asked, "Need a little help?"

The girl looked up, her surprise visible. "Oh, yes, that would be great."

She removed her earplugs, and Renly couldn't help but raise his eyebrows, matching her expression of surprise.