The Greatest Showman #898 – Self-Inflicted Chaos

Roy Lockley sat on the sofa, attempting to steady his breathing and suppress the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Despite his efforts, the nervous trembling of his legs betrayed his inner panic and anxiety.

Years of experience had taught him that in moments of chaos and urgency, the key was to remain calm. Only by keeping his composure could he hope to find a solution. But as everyone knows, it's one thing to understand this principle, and quite another to practice it in the heat of the moment. In this particular moment, Roy couldn't help but feel unmoored, suspended in a state of uncertainty, swaying without direction.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nathan Price, pacing like a restless ant on a hot pan. He circled around the room, weaving between furniture, knocking the lamp on the low table as he passed. The flickering light only added to the mounting tension. Roy couldn't take it anymore. He closed his eyes, his voice low but firm.

"Nathan, sit down. This pacing isn't helping anyone."

Nathan paused, glancing at Roy briefly before collapsing onto the sofa next to him. But the moment his butt hit the cushion, he sprang up again, unable to stay still. He turned and hurried to open the floor-to-ceiling windows. Stepping out onto the balcony, he fumbled in his pocket for some chocolate, hoping the sugar would bring him a sense of calm.

But his hands trembled so much that he struggled to unwrap the chocolate, which only deepened his frustration. With no other outlet, he crumpled the entire piece into a ball and shoved it into his mouth, trying to fight off the mounting anxiety.

Roy turned his attention to Andy Rogers, who was sitting calmly beside him. Andy leaned back against the sofa, his eyes half-closed as though drifting into a light sleep. His relaxed posture, the slight curve of his lips, and the gentle line of his brow gave the impression of composure. Yet, Roy noticed the rapid tapping of Andy's fingers, an unconscious gesture that revealed the undercurrent of tension within him.

"Andy, didn't Renly say when he'd be back?" Roy asked, unable to keep the frustration from creeping into his voice. They were all on edge, yet the one person at the center of it all was still missing, and that only heightened the feeling of unease.

"No," Andy replied, his tone calm. He paused for a moment, perhaps sensing Roy's restlessness, and added, "He just said he'd be back after dinner. He's in Los Angeles today—last day of the year, and he planned a big meal for the two little ones."

It was almost absurd. While North America was in turmoil, the media was buzzing with negative news, and the crisis was spiraling out of control, the one person who should be facing it head-on was leisurely exploring Disneyland, taking his time. His relaxed attitude in the face of it all was either maddening or oddly amusing.

Roy and Andy exchanged a brief look, a silent understanding passing between them. A mix of helplessness and resignation.

Andy pressed his lips together. "You should've heard the call at noon. I barely started discussing the seriousness of the situation before Harvey Weinstein interrupted me. Do you know what he said?"

Roy's curiosity piqued, and he looked over at Andy.

"He said they were about to get on the merry-go-round, and Annie had been waiting twenty-five minutes to ride it. So, he had to hang up," Andy said with a grin.

Roy blinked in disbelief but couldn't help it—he burst out laughing. It was a mix of anger and absurdity. He slapped the armrest of the sofa, still chuckling. After a moment, he laughed again. "Of course. Renly."

A slight smile tugged at Andy's lips. "Maybe this is for the best."

The chaos surrounding the awards season had reached a boiling point. The scandal with Harvey Weinstein had detonated in just the right way, at the right time, and Renly's Oscar hopes were now in jeopardy. Andy had feared that Weinstein would use his influence to damage Renly's career, but it wasn't as bad as he had imagined.

What worried Andy more was Renly himself.

From the euphoria of the concert to the crushing loss of Heather, everything had happened so fast, leaving little room for emotional processing. The world seemed to shift in an instant.

Heather's funeral had taken place on Monday, and the Crosses hadn't informed Renly. They had no obligation to, but the coldness of their actions stung. No calls, no emails, not even a hint of consideration. They had gone ahead with the arrangements, completely excluding Renly. Even Anita Tunisa's secret phone call to Renly had been a mere courtesy, letting him know the funeral was happening.

Over the past few days, Renly had adhered to his schedule without faltering. No emotional breakdowns, no signs of distress. He had completed every task assigned to him with perfection. But it was precisely this calmness that unnerved Andy. He feared that Renly was bottling up his emotions.

Now, with the fallout from the concert and Heather's death unfolding again in the media, Andy was anxious about Renly's response.

Renly had gone to Disneyland with Annie and Alex, planning to stay until the fireworks before returning to New York. Andy hoped that being with the kids was helping, at least for the moment.

Roy's silence was answer enough. They were both worried, thinking about the same thing—concerned not just for the crisis at hand, but for the well-being of the artist they both cared for.

"You know," Roy said, his voice thoughtful, "sometimes, you don't seem like such a bastard."

Andy smiled, his lips curving in amusement. "Don't curse."

Just then, the sound of tires on gravel and the opening of a garage door broke the silence. Roy stood up, quickly followed by Nathan, who hurried to the door. They exchanged a glance before heading toward the exit.

Andy hesitated for a moment, then stood up, his gaze drifting toward the study at the far end of the hall. "Lydia, the protagonist is back."

A few seconds later, a figure appeared.

She was a petite woman, even with a pair of bold red stilettos, she still had to look up to Andy, let alone to someone as tall as Renly. Dressed in a sleek black suit and carrying a matching "killer" bag, her appearance exuded authority. Her sharp bob cut framed a face that demanded attention, and she moved with a quick, purposeful stride.

She was still speaking on the phone, but as soon as she hung up, she scanned the room and asked, "Where's the protagonist?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead turning to Andy. "Don't worry. Before midnight, I'll make sure Renly's friends are informed and a statement is released tomorrow."

Lydia Brooks, a seasoned PR professional from Slate PR, was no stranger to high-profile crises. She had worked on Michael Jackson's death in 2009, making her name in the industry. Though she hadn't worked with top-tier stars like Renly, her reputation was impeccable.

Renly had long needed a publicist, and Andy had finally contacted Lydia, hoping she would take on the role. Whether or not Renly agreed was up to him, but Andy had done his part.

"I've also spoken with some insiders," Lydia continued, as she reached the sofa but didn't sit. "Cornell and Harvey don't have direct ties, but Harvey's influence is still being felt. The issue isn't over yet." She paused, then glanced at Andy. "I heard about what happened at Sundance last year. Was Harvey upset because Renly took the lead on 'Crazy Love'?"

Andy nodded. "Renly secured the distribution rights for 'Crazy Love' with Focus Pictures, shutting Harvey out."

As the conversation continued, the door opened, and Renly appeared. A relaxed smile spread across his face as he immediately spotted Andy and Lydia.

Lydia stepped forward, introducing herself with a professional handshake. "Lydia Brooks, publicist."

Renly smiled, shaking her hand. "Renly Hall, actor." He glanced at Andy, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's already this lively? You hired a professional publicist?"

With a smooth gesture, Renly led Lydia into the room, then sank into the sofa with effortless grace. "Does this mean I can start on my autobiography and launch my perfume line? Or are we still too anxious for that?"

A smile flickered across his face as he surveyed Andy, Roy, and Lydia. There was a lightness in his voice, and his gaze was filled with mischief.