#873 - Open Your Eyes

The peaked cap slightly blocked her view, but Rooney could still see the flash of a smile in Renly's eyes. She raised her chin arrogantly and shook her head gently. "Dating? Jesus Christ, you're really a narcissist, aren't you? So, are we acquainted now? Should I repeat the conversation we had when we first met?"

Renly shrugged unhurriedly, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Otherwise, is there any other explanation?" he replied, pointing out the sheer coincidence of this unexpected encounter.

"Ha!" Rooney laughed exaggeratedly, then narrowed her eyes with a playful glint. "How do you know? After the concert, I followed you all the way here. How do you feel? Scared?" she teased, taking full advantage of the moment.

"Hmmm…" Renly let out a meaningful sound, dragging the word out. "It's been a long journey, quite the effort," he said with a mock-relieved expression. His response was perfect, and Rooney couldn't help but bite her lower lip, trying to figure out how to counter. But no matter how she tried to explain, she felt like she was falling right into his trap—one that she had unwittingly dug herself.

Rooney scrunched her nose, letting out a soft snort. "Be careful. I'll follow you home," she said, her voice carrying an edge that made the words feel cold.

On the surface, Renly maintained his calm, but a quick glance showed that his eyes had shifted—just enough to hint at the slightest panic. But before it could fully register, he met her gaze again, and the two exchanged a look of quiet understanding. Rooney continued to stare, pretending to be aloof as she gazed down at him through narrowed eyes, silently challenging him to react.

She raised her chin and gestured to the book in his hand. "What author?" she asked, breaking the silent tension.

Renly lifted the book, showing her the cover. "John Williams," he answered simply.

"Stoner?" Rooney furrowed her brow slightly, intrigued. As a fellow book lover, she hadn't read it, but the mention alone piqued her curiosity. She knew Renly's taste was reliable, so if he was reading it, it was worth adding to her own list. "What's it about?"

Renly pondered for a moment, then gave the simplest summary. "It's about the truth of life," he said thoughtfully. "Essentially, it explores the gap between the ideal life we envision and the reality we experience. It's like… life happens right in front of us, but we're often blind to the truth beneath it all."

"Wow." Rooney raised an eyebrow, her sharp features making the expression even more playful. "Similar to Love in the Time of Cholera?" She referenced another of Gabriel García Márquez's well-known works, one she had read.

"Oh no, Márquez's work is much grander," Renly laughed. "Williams' is simpler, even bluntly so. Have you read Hermann Hesse?"

Rooney nodded affirmatively, and Renly continued, "Well, the spiritual core is similar to Hesse's. Stoner is about a man whose life is filled with failures, but he's not disappointed by them. He understands that even if his life isn't perfect, at least he's lived authentically, pursuing the truth of himself."

Rooney nodded in understanding, not rushing to speak, but carefully reflecting on the idea. After a moment, she looked back at him. "So, is this what today's concert was about? Wait… it's already past midnight. I guess that's why the concert happened yesterday?" She paused and added, "Don Quixote?"

Renly's mind paused for a moment as the memory resurfaced. Time seemed to rewind. Heather's euphoria, the concert, the aftermath, the creation of Don Quixote… His gaze fell to the book in his hands. It had seemed like a random choice, but now, maybe it was more than that—a reflection of his inner world?

A smile tugged at Renly's lips, though he didn't confirm or deny anything. "Life is full of unknowns. Dreams collide with reality, and often, dreams hit the rocks. But instead of holding onto regret, doing nothing with your life, it's better to push ahead, make some noise." He gestured to the book. "That's what Don Quixote is all about."

Rooney repeated the title softly, letting the meaning settle in her mind. Failures, but no regrets. It was a lesson she could understand. She met his gaze again, silently absorbing the depth in his words.

Rooney wasn't a gossip, but like everyone else, she was filled with curiosity. What had happened during the "one-person concert"? Was Heather's illness real? Was the media reporting the truth? Her upbringing kept her from asking, but in this moment, sitting before Renly, she felt she didn't need to. The answer was already clear.

She knew Say You Won't Give Up wasn't just a song—it held fragility, earnestness that could reach the deepest parts of the soul. She understood the concert wasn't planned, that Renly wasn't interested in the hype. More importantly, she knew that Renly Hall wasn't someone to chase fame. Not before, not now, and she was certain, not in the future.

There was a brief moment where Rooney thought about asking the question she had been holding back. But instead of guessing, she decided to trust. She already had her answer.

"Can you tell me how Cleopatra was composed?" Rooney's eyes lit up. "I've talked to a lot of people tonight, and they all say there's an interesting story behind that song. How did you come up with it? The lyrics and melody are so different from each other…"

Renly raised an eyebrow. "I'm even more curious—how did they know the story behind it when I've never told anyone?"

Rooney grinned. "Pioneer Village?"

"Pioneer Village?" Renly repeated, his expression intrigued.

The conversation drifted from music to Pioneer Village, then unexpectedly shifted to Mount Sinai Hospital. They spoke about Heather, Annie, and Alex—details about people in their lives that flowed easily between them.

As the topic shifted back to films and eventually to New York, the conversation circled back to the cart full of laundry products at Rooney's feet.

"Have you decided?" Renly asked, his voice full of amusement as he looked at the lineup of laundry detergents. He noticed Rooney's hesitant look. "I thought you just throw your clothes in the washing machine and dryer. Do you really need to study the ingredients? What, do you dry-clean all your delicate clothes?"

Rooney blinked, then suddenly looked dead serious. "Then why did I think about it for so long?"

Renly chuckled, shrugging. "Maybe you're trying to date me?"

The suggestion made Rooney bite her lip, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. She shook her head, laughing softly, her shoulders bouncing with restrained amusement. "This is not a date. Remember? We talked about this when we first met."

Renly pointed to the detergent aisle, then spread his hands wide. "If that's not proof, then I don't know what is."

Rooney couldn't help but laugh again, this time more helplessly. She shot him a mock glare. "I know, I know, it sounds like a routine. But really, I'm not interested in dating right now. I'm focused on my career. You know how it is, acting is exhausting, there's barely time for anything else. I haven't been in a relationship since I got into Hollywood. There's just too much…"

Renly frowned. "You mean those actors who are dating, engaged, even married, aren't working seriously?"

Rooney stopped, then slowly closed her mouth, before answering with deadpan sincerity. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

Renly's understanding was evident in his expression as he nodded, though his eyes held a hint of mischief. "Or do you think we're dating?"

Rooney raised her hand, pointing back and forth between the two of them with wide eyes. "God, do you really think I don't know? You have feelings for me, don't you?"

Renly waved his hands in mock panic. "Did you forget? I was here first! I was here first!" He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "No, no, I agree with you. Actors should focus on their work, not get distracted."

Their lighthearted banter continued, neither of them willing to back down. In their little game of nonsense, Renly proved to be a worthy competitor.