Chapter 909: The Truth is Revealed

Bradley Adams stared intently at the computer screen, his thoughts a whirlwind, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he transcribed his thoughts into words.

The "Hype Gate" – from its origins to its rise and eventual boiling point – was gaining more and more momentum.

At first, Bradley had been focused solely on defending Renly's reputation, uncovering the truth, and restoring the situation to its original state. But as time passed, his sense of justice and responsibility as a reporter began to take over. What started as an investigation into the Renly-Hall incident soon became a much broader issue, one that pointed to the pervasive corruption in society. Bradley now hoped to use his pen to fulfill the true duty of a journalist: to guide public opinion and hold society accountable.

To Entertainment Weekly and Harvey Weinstein, this was just another PR stunt, another Academy campaign leading up to the awards season. But to Bradley, this was more than that. He still held on to the ideals of journalism, refusing to let them slip away.

"Bradley," a colleague called, breaking through his concentration. Bradley didn't look up, his hands still typing furiously. The voice called again, louder this time, before the colleague approached his desk. "Your insider call – there's a clue that could provide direct evidence about the Renly-Hall incident."

Bradley didn't move. Similar news tips came in daily at The New York Times, and lately, the volume was at its peak, with at least twenty related calls every day.

"Bradley, the caller said it's Derek Cross. Heather Cross's parents."

At the mention of the name, Bradley's fingers stopped mid-strike. He jumped to his feet. "Why didn't you say that sooner! What's the line?"

"Number two," his colleague replied automatically, though he also added a teasing protest, "Hey, you ignored me after I gave you such an important lead. How are you going to repay me?"

Bradley waved him off dismissively. "Next time, I'll buy you dinner." He quickly picked up the phone and dialed in. "This is Bradley Adams, go ahead."

"Mr. Adams, this is Derek Cross."

"Hey, Mr. Cross," Bradley replied. It wasn't their first conversation. Before the concert, Bradley had interviewed Derek and Allie.

Now, after the recent news, Bradley knew that reaching out to the Crosses to clarify the situation was the most straightforward approach. But Andy Rogers had advised against it, stressing that Renly didn't want to disturb the Crosses or Mount Sinai Hospital. It seemed as though the whole situation had spiraled off track in a direction neither Renly nor the Crosses had intended.

Derek's voice cracked with hesitation. "Sorry, I only saw the news today. Allie and I are just catching up with everything. How's Renly?"

"Renly's fine," Bradley replied. "You know him – a remarkable young man. He's doing well." Even as a reporter, Bradley couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Renly.

"...That's a relief," Derek murmured, his voice tight. He was clearly struggling with conflicting emotions. He knew he owed Renly an apology. "Allie and I discussed it, and we think it's time to set the record straight. We can't let Renly shoulder all the blame. Heather… Heather wouldn't want this."

Bradley hesitated. "Are you sure about this? After the incident, I thought about reaching out to you, but Renly didn't want to disturb you. And I understand, especially with Heather's passing. It's painful, and I know standing up now will bring the media down on you. It's going to be tough."

From the other side of the phone, Ellie overheard Bradley's words. She covered her mouth, but a quiet sob escaped.

Derek's voice broke with emotion. "God…" He clenched his fists, regret and anger surging in his chest. "I don't mind. We know the truth. Heather wouldn't want to see this spread any further. Renly is the only one who understands her dreams, her world." Derek's voice cracked again. "Renly kept his promise. Heather wouldn't want him to break it."

Bradley nodded, his heart heavy with understanding. "I respect your decision. How can I help?"

Derek took a deep breath. "Allie and I want to hold a press conference. We're not sure how to reach the media. Can you assist us?"

"Of course, I'll take care of it," Bradley assured him quickly. "Just give me the time and place, and I'll handle everything else."

After hanging up, Bradley sat back in his chair, momentarily dazed.

Renly Hall… what kind of actor was he? From their first meeting at the premiere of War in the Pacific to this moment, Renly's image had evolved, becoming increasingly multifaceted. His album Don Quixote carried more weight than anyone could have imagined. Even with three Grammy trophies, it didn't seem to fully capture his significance.

Bradley couldn't help but wonder what kind of artist Renly would become and what place he would eventually occupy in history.

With a deep breath, Bradley refocused. There was work to be done.

Seven days had passed since Entertainment Weekly's explosive special report.

In the Bible, God created the world in seven days. In the real world, those seven days had been a whirlwind of seismic events. "Hype Gate" had morphed into a societal case study, a reflection of the era. The debate raged on, growing louder with each passing day.

And now, the moment of truth had arrived.

Derek and Allie Cross – Heather's parents – held a press conference in front of over 130 reporters. It wasn't just about the "one-man concert"; it was a review of the past three years.

They spoke of Heather's illness, her dreams, her determination, and Renly's unwavering support. Then, they discussed the recent turmoil and "A One-man Concert."

"This concert was for Heather. It was her last wish," Ellie said through tears. Derek tried to take over, but Ellie insisted on speaking, feeling it was her duty to make amends.

She steadied herself, then continued. "A week before her condition worsened, Heather was preparing to audition for American Idol. She had worked for months. She dreamed of Renly singing the song she wrote for him, but Renly insisted it was their promise – he wanted Heather to sing it. Unfortunately, she didn't make it, but Renly fulfilled their promise by singing it at the Beauty Awards."

The truth was finally laid bare. The song "The Beast" was Renly's gift to Heather, and also a dream he fulfilled in her place. The three Grammy wins were not a performance, but heartfelt declarations.

After Ellie finished speaking, Derek took over, sharing everything that had transpired over the past week and how Renly had fought to protect them.

As the Crosses broke their silence, Mount Sinai Hospital's staff stepped forward to share their experiences. Over the past three years, Renly had made personal gifts to the hospital each Christmas. The children had made gifts for him in return. It was the clearest proof of Renly's generosity.

Then, the parents of Annie Silliman and Alex Ritchie spoke up, recounting Renly's efforts on their behalf.

Slowly, as the online vitriol began to recede, supportive voices emerged. The tide shifted, as people who had witnessed the "one-man concert" and those who had attended "Pioneer Village Night" came forward in support.

Piece by piece, the truth was assembled. Each revelation was more moving than the last.

When the world had accused Renly of lying and cheating, when the media had used him as a pawn for hype, he had never given up. Bitter and angry, he had remained steadfast, quietly holding on to his principles. He had fought back without compromising who he was.

Like Don Quixote.

The public's frenzy had been loud, sensational, and overwhelming. Now, the shockwaves that followed were sobering, and the truth had been laid bare. Entertainment Weekly's lies had been exposed, confirming what had been said in US Weekly, The New York Times, and The New Yorker. The cruelty and embarrassment of the real world had been revealed.

Overnight, Entertainment Weekly became the target of public outrage, and Cornell-McGregor was torn apart by netizens and the media. People always forget their past actions, conveniently overlooking their own mistakes while pointing fingers at the culprit, eager to mask their own discomfort and shame.

The backlash was fierce, magnifying the original fury a hundredfold.