The Greatest Showman #904 - Buddy Break

"Then, you are tacitly acquiescing in malicious speculation!"

At the critical moment, Cornell had no time to clear his thoughts or contemplate the situation fully. Gritting his teeth, he stuck to his usual stance, forcing Renly to respond, forcing him to face the accusations. This time, Renly would not escape so easily!

Renly stopped as he was about to leave, unfazed and without panic or pride. He simply pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "After all this, we're back where we started."

A joke—one that hit the mark—snapped the reporters to attention. The question had already been asked twice, perhaps even three times, and Renly had answered it each time. Now, the reporters were like ghosts running into a wall, returning to the same place.

The reporters understood: Renly's words were a sharp sarcasm aimed at all of them. Yet, his nonchalant humor made them smile, especially when they saw Cornell's expression shift to one of frustration.

"Can someone here tell me what 'malicious hype' means?" Renly asked, his voice clear and direct. "If I remember correctly, the story about the concert, about Seattle, and the matter with Miss Porter, was first reported by the media. I learned about it after the fact. So tell me, what role did I play in this 'malicious hype'? Who can answer that?"

His rhetorical question left no room for ambiguity.

The reporters exchanged glances, beginning to piece things together: The media had been the instigators, but who started this whole fiasco? To accuse Renly of malicious hype would require proof that the events were fabricated or evidence of a collusion between him and the reporters. Without that...

"What about the concert?" Cornell asked, sensing an opportunity. "Isn't this just a publicity stunt? Isn't it all about box office sales, album sales, and pushing for Grammy nominations?"

"No," Renly answered firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. His response caught Cornell off guard.

"First, it was always intended to be a one-person concert, and that hasn't changed. Second, all the concert's proceeds will go toward establishing a foundation for terminally ill research and treating underage patients. Third, I want to thank everyone who attended. Honestly, I was prepared for just one audience member, so it's an honor to have so many."

The reporters paused.

This was the first time Renly had publicly discussed the concert. There had been no prior hype, no media push, not even an attempt at self-promotion. Could it be that the "One Person's Concert" was truly just about one person's concert?

Then a reporter couldn't hold back. "But how could there have been space available at Madison Square Garden just four days in advance? That's the biggest question here."

Renly shrugged. "It was an accident. An absolute accident. I doubt Andre Hamilton expected the original venue choice to lead to this. For more details, I suggest speaking with Madison Square Garden or Eleven Studios."

The implication was clear: Isn't uncovering the truth your job as journalists? You should be the ones asking the questions and finding the answers.

At that moment, the reporters' professional instincts were triggered, and other questions began to follow. "What about Heather Cross? What's going on there?"

"She's just an ordinary Don Quixote. I sincerely hope all discussions and news stay away from her peaceful resting soul. I won't comment further. Malicious hype? It has never existed, and I don't want it to. Let's end the topic here. I won't be responding further. Thank you."

With that, Renly turned and began to leave quickly. He offered no explanation, no clarification, and no further response. He exuded an air of indifference, leaving the reporters stunned.

"Renly!"

The heart-wrenching calls echoed, but Renly did not turn around.

The entire interview lasted less than five minutes. The reporters were in disarray. One by one, they crowded around Renly, trying to extend the interview, but Renly kept moving forward. The crowd surged behind him, following his every step.

The scene was chaotic, but the reporters kept their distance, careful not to escalate the situation. They moved like the tail of a comet, following Renly through the streets.

If you looked down from above, the spectacle was extraordinary: hundreds of reporters, all swarming like black match heads scattered across half a block, with a small open space in the middle where Renly moved like a bright spot, slowly distancing himself from the crowd, before disappearing into a black van.

And then, only the remaining reporters stood there, disoriented.

"Hypocrisy! A downright hypocrite!" Cornell spat, his rage boiling over. "Such a sanctimonious face! He deceived everyone, but refuses to acknowledge his lies and instead tries to smear us!"

Cornell continued his rant, pacing back and forth. "We're reporters! We uncover the truth! If we report the facts and it turns against him, does that make it our fault? He planned everything behind the scenes! All of this was a tool for his image! And now, when we reveal the truth, he refuses to respond? This is the funniest joke I've ever heard!"

From a distance, Gavin watched, his expression hardening. The familiar face of Cornell now seemed foreign. Gavin's emotions surged. Without thinking, he stepped forward and confronted Cornell.

"Are you serious?"

Cornell snapped, clearly irritated. "What?"

"I mean, do you really believe Renly was involved in the malicious hype? Do you really think he's a hypocrite? Do you honestly think you have enough evidence to claim that all these events were his doing?"

Cornell opened his mouth to retort, but Gavin raised his voice again.

"We're talking about truth, integrity, and the professional ethics of journalism! Don't tell me it's all about entertainment now! Do you honestly think this is what it's about, Cornell McGregor?"

Cornell was speechless. Gavin's words hit him like a blow to the face.

In that instant, memories of their university days flooded Cornell's mind. They had been close friends, full of dreams about being journalists, changing society with their pens, aiming for Pulitzer Prizes. But now, years later, they stood on opposite sides.

Humiliation washed over Cornell. Humiliation from Renly. Humiliation from Gavin. And in that moment, anger overtook him.

"Gavin Hunter, you know what? Let me tell you something. When Renly agreed to your first interview at the Toronto Film Festival, you lost your mind, and the world changed. You were blinded by the truth! Renly refused my interview and created the Natalie Portman scandal! He's a demon, wearing the skin of a gentleman!"

Gavin was stunned. The same memory, shaped over time, had become two completely different versions. The Cornell in front of him was not the friend he once knew.

But as anger surged, Gavin found a strange calmness. He shook his head and smiled. "Cornell, you know what? I don't want to argue with you anymore. Is that really how you remember Toronto? If I recall correctly, we fabricated the scandal, and you were the one who chose Natalie's side, abandoning Renly's. Are you sure your memory's clear?"

Gavin shrugged. "But what's the point? After all... it's all about entertainment, isn't it?"

With that, Gavin turned and walked away, leaving Cornell behind.

Cornell watched him go, feeling a pang of regret. He called out, "Gavin! We're friends! We're on the same side!"

"We used to be," the wind carried Gavin's answer.