The Greatest Showman #919 – Walk With You

Creating a song fills the mind with a restless exhilaration, a sense of freedom and joy that stirs the soul.

The corners of Renly's mouth lifted in a slight smile, and the light in his eyes deepened. He truly felt the lightness and happiness that music creation brought. The beautiful emotions that had been lingering in his chest were now free to bloom. He set his guitar down and turned, giving Old Frank a thumbs-up. "That was great," Renly said with a chuckle. "Wonderful performance. I'm happy we could work together."

Old Frank was still lost in the shock of the moment, his mind far from ready to return to reality. He nodded blankly but couldn't respond at all.

Renly walked over to the bar and smiled at Matthew, who was still embarrassed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He didn't seem surprised by Matthew's reaction; nor did he comment on the awkwardness of the moment. Instead, Renly raised an eyebrow and asked casually, "I'm about to leave, but I didn't drive today. How about you take me for a ride?"

Matthew's lips curled into a smile. He stared at Renly, momentarily caught in the absurdity of the situation, before his shoulders shrugged in a defeated gesture. He chuckled softly. "Of course, it would be my honor." The hoarseness in his voice, still thick with emotion, revealed his struggle, but neither of them dwelled on it. They simply turned and left the bar side by side.

As they walked, Renly casually said, "I think you should calm down a bit. You know, people who have just experienced extreme joy and sorrow aren't always in the best condition to drive. Don't expect me to take the wheel."

"...You still carry a handkerchief?" Matthew asked, his surprise evident. "God, isn't that a George thing?"

Renly grinned. "For ladies, yes. But occasionally, gentlemen can make use of it too. If you don't need it, feel free to return it to me."

They continued to chat in their familiar back-and-forth, with no need for explanation, no repetition—just a natural rhythm between them, walking together as friends do.

Meanwhile, the sounds from the bar faded into the background, and the atmosphere settled back into its usual quiet, as if the performance had been a dream. Beautiful, stunning, but ultimately transient—fading away once the dreamer wakes up.

After a moment, Old Frank wandered back to the bar, still dazed by the performance. He looked at the young bartender, who was wide-eyed with excitement. "Wow, that guy really is something, huh?" Old Frank marveled, lost in his own thoughts. "I should've asked for his autograph! God, I'm so stupid! I forgot! Thank God for the video on my phone, or no one would believe me."

Still somewhat confused, Old Frank blinked, unable to piece everything together. "Wait... is that person... famous?"

The young bartender's eyes went wide in disbelief. "Jesus Christ! Famous? That was Renly Hall!"

The young bartender, still processing what had just happened, quickly recalled recent news. "You didn't recognize him? That was Renly Hall—the one who's been all over the news lately! 'Love is Crazy,' 'Anti-Cancer Me,' 'Love 5'—his music is everywhere!"

Old Frank's mind clicked into place, and his eyes widened in realization. He had finally connected the dots. That was the Renly, the creator of Don Quixote, the artist who had revitalized his passion for music, bringing soul and inspiration back into it.

The realization struck him like a tidal wave. The melody from earlier echoed in his mind, "Even if my body is shattered, I swear I will not waste my life!" In that moment, Old Frank's tears came, flowing without warning.

"What was the name of that song?" Matthew broke the silence, steering the car smoothly out of the parking lot and onto the road. They were leaving the cemetery behind, heading toward home.

Renly answered without hesitation, "'I-Lived.'"

Matthew repeated the title slowly, letting the words sink in. "This life is not in vain," he whispered to himself before a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "So, did you officially say goodbye today?"

"Yes," Renly nodded firmly. "This is both a farewell and a beginning."

Though he was miles away in London, the news of Renly's disappearance had spread quickly through North America, reaching Matthew even across the ocean. Though Matthew was anxious, he knew Renly needed space and time to handle everything. Renly had his own way of doing things, and Matthew knew that when the time was right, he would reappear. As a friend, Matthew's role was simply to wait patiently, ready to embrace Renly when he returned.

"Aren't you curious how I found that bar?" Matthew raised an eyebrow, amused at Renly's calm demeanor.

Renly smirked. "If you hired a private detective, you know I wouldn't let you get away with it. But if you didn't, then why should I care? You and Arthur could start your own Sherlock Holmes agency. It might do well in London."

Matthew shook his head, exasperated but smiling. "Facebook. It's a tool called the Internet. With Facebook and Twitter, you can find just about anything these days."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "Look at you, detective in the making." That teasing expression made Matthew laugh.

"Do you remember that movie? The one with the two-year-old boy's body?" Renly asked, his tone thoughtful.

Matthew nodded. "Yes, I remember. Stay With Me. Why do you bring that up?"

Renly smiled. "It says in the movie, even though I haven't seen him for ten years, I know I'll miss him forever. I never made friends as good as the ones I had when I was twelve." He grinned. "So, I guess we're lucky."

Matthew paused, contemplating Renly's words. A wave of nostalgia and emotion hit him, and the smile in his eyes slowly faded. He turned his gaze forward, reflecting on their first meeting.

He remembered sitting on the bench, reading Moby-Dick when Renly had sat down beside him, playfully teasing, "You know, reading Moby-Dick at your age is against the rules, right? But trust me, it's not what you think. If you want more taboo books, there's a whole library full."

The two of them had sat there while the other kids played cricket, reading books in their own quiet corner. But things had gotten a bit out of hand when a campus supervisor had discovered them. Renly had casually shoved The Ten Days Talk into his bag and took full responsibility for their behavior, even leading to a visit from Matthew's father. Matthew was only six years old at the time.

"Are you sure? Feels like an unfortunate start for Andre and me. And Eaton," Matthew quipped, but then saw Renly close his eyes, drifting into sleep. Matthew's own smile softened, and he chuckled to himself.

As the sounds of bustling Manhattan filled his ears, Matthew gently nudged Renly awake. "Straight back to the apartment? Or do you have plans?"

Renly rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Let's head to Pioneer Village. I need a drink tonight. You in?"

"My pleasure," Matthew responded, a grin spreading across his face.

Avoiding rush hour traffic, they reached their destination in under thirty minutes. After parking, they made their way toward Pioneer Village, where the bar had just opened. At 5:00 PM, the place was empty—no customers, and even the staff were still preparing.

Renly strode confidently toward the bar, waving a greeting to Neil, before spotting a familiar face sitting at the bar.

Paul Walker greeted him with a bright smile, raising his glass. "How's it going? First round's on me, right?"

Renly's lips curled into a grin. He walked up to the bar, tapped the counter lightly, and called to Neil, "You heard him, Neil. First round's starting now. Hurry it up!"