The Greatest Showman #874 - Dating Rules

Rooney narrowed her eyes slightly, a questioning look crossing her face—the trust has been betrayed—and drew out the last syllable meaningfully, "Huh…?" Her half-smile hinted at a subtle challenge. "Doesn't seem like you meant it just now."

Renly spread his hands innocently, eyes saying: I'm just trying to clear up a misunderstanding.

But faced with Rooney's disbelieving gaze, Renly raised his hands in mock surrender. He gave up the explanation, but still said, with sincerity, "I mean, I'm not dating either. Otherwise, do you really think I would've been nominated for an Oscar two years in a row?"

His eyes sparkled with pride as if to say: How about that? Two years, back-to-back nominations. Proof enough? The subtext was layered, and the curve of Rooney's mouth rose involuntarily. She had to bite her lower lip to suppress her smile, but the laughter dancing in her eyes was impossible to hide.

"Actually," Renly continued, keeping a straight face, "for the sake of my acting career, I've made a strict 'two-day rule'."

Rooney raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Two-day rule?"

Renly nodded seriously, as though presenting a thesis at an academic conference. "Meaning, I can only see the same person two days in a row. So, even if I wanted to see you again—though, let's be real, we're not dating, and we won't be—hypothetically, the earliest we could meet again would be the day after tomorrow."

Rooney's expression shifted from intrigue to skepticism. "No, no, we didn't spend two continuous days together. We've only met… what? An hour? Maybe ninety minutes?"

Renly tried to interject, but Rooney wasn't done. "Not that I care about the details," she added quickly, "I just needed to clarify."

Renly, unperturbed, pressed on. "Look, when we met yesterday, it was about… what, eleven-forty-five? Midnight? Then today—after the clock strikes midnight—it counts as the second day. So, technically, we've already had our two days."

Rooney tilted her head, processing, before shaking her head. "That's the problem. I'm not dating you. There's no possibility of that. I refuse your 'time nerd' rules. It's just too much trouble. So… you're out of my consideration."

She spread her hands dramatically, adopting an exaggeratedly regretful expression.

Renly pursed his lips. "Time nerd? Is that even a real term?"

Rooney nodded seriously. "Of course. You're the perfect example." She spread her hands and gave him a playful wink, as if to say: Aren't you the definition of a time nerd?

Renly chuckled, conceding, "It makes sense. I'm a die-hard time nerd."

"Yes, I can see that," Rooney replied with a knowing nod, her smile widening.

Renly straightened up, taking on a more academic air. "That's my focus. See, I've never wanted to date you. Why? Because I'm a time nerd, and you… well, you're not. This is the first time, the second time, and now the third time we've met. What does that tell us? Maybe we're just not right for each other."

Rooney took a moment to reflect, thinking back to their meetings:

The first time in Telluride, that random encounter which turned into a long night of conversation, which eventually became the beginning of their friendship.The second time in Seattle, the weirdness of the night blending with talks about Oscar nominations and acting, so much so that she couldn't even remember when it ended.Now, the third time, here they were.

She nodded, realization dawning on her. "Ah, the two-day rule. I get it now!"

It was all just coincidence, but with the pair of them, it seemed to make sense—two people navigating their own playful fabrications. They exchanged glances, keeping their composure on the surface while barely holding back laughter.

"That's it," Renly continued. "I'm very strict about things. Morning, afternoon, reading time—sixty minutes. Bedtime—three hours. No mistakes allowed. Everything down to the five-minute mark."

Rooney was still processing. "Wait, what did we even decide? Did we make a final decision?"

Renly summed it up clearly. "First, it's not a date. Second, we're not dating. Third, the next time we meet, it'll be at least the day after tomorrow. Or next year?"

Rooney's face lit up with understanding. "Right. Great! I'm glad we could reach an agreement." She looked around, her expression shifting to playful seriousness. "So, do we need to shake hands? Like how world leaders do after signing an agreement?"

Renly shook his head. "No, no. You know, the handshake's a bit too ambiguous for us."

Rooney raised an eyebrow. "Good point." She stood up, brushing off her cap. "I should get going." She started placing the laundry detergent back on the shelf, then grabbed one at random and tossed it into Renly's cart.

"Oh, you've decided?" Renly asked, amusement in his voice.

Rooney shrugged nonchalantly. "No, it's purple."

Renly blinked in surprise. "Purple?"

"Yep," she said with a serious nod. "I'm a color nerd."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I see. You're a color nerd now, too?"

Rooney laughed, "Exactly! Like your navy blue shirt tonight—it suits you perfectly. Not that I have a crush on you or anything." She grinned mischievously.

Renly smirked. "Yeah, we've already covered that. No need to explain."

Rooney nodded thoughtfully. "I'm a stubborn color nerd. So, next time we meet, you'd better watch your outfit. Might be a deal-breaker, you know?"

Renly gave her a mock salute. "Understood."

Rooney fought back another laugh, her eyes twinkling. After quickly brushing her short hair, she gave a cool, "See you next time."

As she turned and pushed the cart away, she glanced back over her shoulder. The moment their eyes met, an awkward tension hung in the air. Rooney coughed, trying to cover up the sudden unease. "Cough cough," she muttered.

"Can you send me the address of the Pioneer Village? Maybe I'll check it out when I have some time—just to visit, not to see you," she added quickly.

Renly, pretending not to hear her, nodded with a slight smile in his eyes. "No problem."

Rooney's cheeks warmed. She cleared her throat again. "Thanks. And, I believe Heather will be okay. She's Don Quixote."

With that, she turned and walked away, her cart rolling smoothly down the aisle.

Renly stood still, watching her disappear into the distance. His smile grew wider, a mix of amusement and something deeper. He lowered his gaze back to the book in his hands, appreciating the rare moment of peace.

It had been a long day—first the concert, then Mount Sinai, followed by a whirlwind of events after Berlin. But now, it felt like the world was slowing down, and everything would be okay. Heather would be fine.

With a deep breath, Renly opened the book, savoring the quiet solitude.

He stayed in the supermarket until about three in the morning, then packed up and headed home. The minute he hit the bed, he fell into a deep sleep—so deep, there were no dreams. When dawn came, Renly didn't even stir. He was lost in his rest, unaware of anything around him.

Until the sudden, jarring knock on the door.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Renly heard it, but his body refused to obey. He felt like he was half-conscious, drifting in and out of sleep, a chaotic fog that kept him from waking.

And then, the sound stopped. A silence hung in the air.

The door swung open, and a rush of cold air filled the room. "Renly, wake up! Renly, something happened!"