The Greatest Showman #899 - Heart Like a Rock

"Does this mean I can start writing my autobiography and then my perfume line?" Renly said, his tone light, yet tinged with an air of mischief.

Lydia stared at him, momentarily taken aback. It was their first meeting, but she immediately noticed the subtle smile tugging at the corners of Renly's lips, his eyes carrying a warmth that felt like a spring breeze. It was a simple gesture, but it had an impact. Even seasoned professionals like Andy could get flustered under pressure, and Lydia herself was no stranger to moments of uncertainty. But Renly, it seemed, remained unshaken.

Was it because he was confident? Or perhaps because he didn't care for the superficial prestige of Vanity Fair?

"Or maybe you're in a rush now?" Lydia teased, her words light but with an undercurrent of amusement. Renly's response sparked a chuckle from her.

"I don't know, are you still a fan of the Kardashians?" Lydia countered, opting to initiate the conversation herself rather than waiting for Andy's introduction.

Renly's mention of writing an autobiography and launching a perfume seemed to be a direct allusion to the Kardashian family, whose business ventures spanned from reality TV to product lines and brand collaborations, despite their lack of traditional talent or significant accomplishments in the entertainment industry. Their ability to create scandals and generate media buzz had made them household names.

In the entertainment world, hype was a double-edged sword. It wasn't always about the quality of the work; it was about the noise you could make. But for Renly, the issue was not about sensationalism. It was about image—he had spent two years building a professional reputation, and now it was threatened by a crisis that could unravel everything.

"It's not the hype that's the problem," Renly said, his smile unwavering. "It's the image. A carefully built reputation can be destroyed in an instant."

There was a wisdom to Renly's words, or perhaps it was pure coincidence. Lydia couldn't quite tell, but it certainly piqued her interest.

"No, I'm not," Renly replied with a calm smile. "But I hope you are."

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why?"

"Because," Renly said, "that would mean you're skilled at managing the media. The Kardashians are masters at PR and hype, after all."

Lydia laughed, her confidence undeniable. "Unfortunately, I'm not. Their tricks are old hat. Not worth analyzing in depth." There was something about the way she carried herself that made her words seem even more formidable.

"So, what's your solution?" Renly asked, his tone shifting to a more serious note, though still polite. "Apologies for my abruptness. I've had a long day and need to catch an early flight. Please excuse my impatience."

Just as Lydia was about to respond, Nathan, standing nearby, interjected, "Are Anne and Alex okay?" He immediately regretted his words, realizing they were off-topic.

Renly turned to him with a smile, easing the tension. "They're fine. Alex had a blast today, wearing the Captain America suit. He didn't want to take it off. Annie had a minor issue with her dinner, but everything's settled now. Her health has been good, though we'll check in with her doctor when we get back to New York."

Renly's words were light and full of care. It was as if the media scandal paled in comparison to the simple, genuine moments of his day. This was the longest speech he'd given since returning, and yet it felt more like a casual conversation than a media crisis.

Lydia digested the information thoughtfully, then steered the conversation back on track. "The solution is simple: have Heather Cross and her family issue a public clarification."

Renly shook his head immediately, his expression firm. "No."

Lydia blinked, momentarily thrown off. "But if they just clarify—"

"No," Renly cut her off again, his voice decisive. "We won't ask the Crosses to clarify anything, and we won't involve Mount Sinai Hospital either."

There was an unspoken reason behind his words. Renly understood the delicate position the Cross family was in—they had just lost their daughter. For them, this was not about media appearances or clarifications; it was about grief, about privacy. The last thing they needed was the spotlight shining on them, making them relive their pain for public consumption.

Renly also understood the sanctity of Mount Sinai Hospital—a place of healing for children facing unimaginable challenges. The hospital had nothing to do with the media frenzy, and he wouldn't exploit it for a story.

Lydia tried to argue again, but Renly stopped her with a gentle but firm "No."

She turned to Andy, searching for answers, but Andy could only offer a helpless glance in return. He was caught in a delicate balance, trying to navigate Renly's decisions and the complexities of the situation.

"Miss Brooks," Renly continued, his voice warm yet carrying an edge, "I understand your suggestion. It's the simplest solution. But it's not the only solution. Everyone knows that asking the involved parties directly is the easiest way to clear things up. That's called calling a witness in legal terms."

Lydia couldn't help but pause, realizing that Renly's words weren't just about the situation at hand—they were a subtle critique of her approach. "If that's all it takes, I don't see why we need to hire professionals to handle it."

Lydia was momentarily taken aback. She had expected Renly to back her plan, but instead, he had turned it into a lesson in strategic thinking.

She took a deep breath, clearing her mind. It was time for a new plan. "If 'Entertainment Weekly' wants to keep stoking the fire, we'll let them. They've been the ones pushing the narrative all along, from the Seattle incident to the Natalie story to the concert fiasco. They've been the ones hyping everything, making a spectacle out of it."

Lydia was starting to formulate a strategy that would turn the tables. "We've never initiated any of the publicity. 'Entertainment Weekly' has been the one behind every headline, twisting the facts and turning them into something else. If we're going to fight back, let's challenge their work ethic. Let's expose them for what they really are."

Renly raised his eyebrows slightly, his smile barely concealing his amusement. "I'd be happy to participate. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Lydia had just offered a bold, risky move, and Renly was all in. She could see it now—Renly wasn't just a passive actor in this situation. He was ready to fight back, to rewrite the narrative.

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