#1050 - Take It Easy

One thousand and twelve — calm and unhurried.

"Jesus Christ!" Nathan gasped, his eyes wide with disbelief. He took a deep breath, then covered his mouth, clearly stunned. Renly, on the other hand, couldn't hold back and let out a soft laugh, his acting exaggerated like the heroine of a Colombian soap opera at 8 o'clock.

Andy and Roy exchanged glances, both of them taken aback despite having anticipated the truth of the matter. The moment they shared a silent understanding, they couldn't help but laugh. Looking away, Andy asked, "What should we do now?"

Renly blinked in confusion. "What do you mean by 'what to do now'?" he asked. The two stared at each other, before Renly caught on and laughed sheepishly. "Nothing special. I'm still an actor. After finishing the 'Edge of Tomorrow' campaign, I'm back in London for 'Les Miserables,' and I don't think anything has changed."

"But—" Nathan began eagerly.

"But what?" Renly interrupted, cutting him off. Nathan froze, caught off guard. Renly's tone was calm, matter-of-fact. "Nothing has changed. I came to New York as an actor, and I'll keep working as one. The past and present are the same, and the future will be the same. For you, what's changed?"

Renly's composure was startling, his demeanor so unhurried and calm it was as if he were casually discussing the weather: if the sun's out, go surfing; if not, stay home and surf tomorrow. Life, for him, carried on—nothing special.

"But now everyone knows. People are going to ask," Andy said, the first reaction that came to mind. Lydia Brooks, Renly's publicist, was dealing with the same issue.

Lydia, in her short four months in the job, had weathered numerous storms. But she never imagined facing a situation like this—an explosive piece of news that had the entire industry, and beyond, in a frenzy. Hollywood insiders, reporters, and ordinary people were all buzzing with excitement.

Lydia, in her office, was likely swearing.

Renly shrugged nonchalantly. Andy couldn't help but rub his forehead at the light-hearted look on Renly's face. Renly added, "You don't realize the core of the problem…"

"Are you sure it's not that you didn't realize the seriousness of it?" Roy interjected. Even Roy, usually calm, was starting to feel a tinge of impatience. Renly smiled brighter at the reaction. "Calm down, please, calm down," he said with a chuckle, making Roy feel both exasperated and slightly heartbroken.

"It's a fact, that's all. There's nothing to discuss, nothing to uncover. Just like Edward Norton—everyone knows about his upper-class family, and they're still active in business and politics. But after the initial buzz, that's it. In the end, people focus on his life as an actor."

Renly's calmness began to soften the tense atmosphere. "Of course, the reporters will definitely ask. They're like a pack of hyenas and won't give up easily. But I'll answer once, and after that, I won't respond again. If they're really curious, they can interview my family."

At that moment, Renly had a mischievous thought. He wondered how the paparazzi would react if they surrounded George or Elizabeth. In the UK, the paparazzi were relentless, even with the royal family—Princess Diana's tragic car accident had been linked to their pursuit. The thought amused Renly.

Andy and Roy gradually began to calm down. What truly shocked everyone was the news itself, but as Renly had said, there was nothing more to dig into. The past was the past; the future would unfold the same way.

What had changed, more subtly, was their perception of Renly.

"The only thing I'm curious about," Roy raised his hand in a half-joking gesture, "Is this something we should call you 'Lord'? Or 'Sir'? How does this work in English nobility?"

Renly chuckled. "Renly is fine. But in formal settings, 'Your Excellency' would be correct. But don't worry. I have an older brother who inherits the title of hereditary baron, so I'm just an ordinary citizen."

Nathan let out a dry laugh.

Renly shrugged, smiling as he turned to leave. "Isn't the show still recording? I think I should get back to work."

"Renly," Andy called, stepping forward. "I just want to ask—what's going on with Madison Square Garden?"

For the "One Person Concert" in February, they had reserved the venue temporarily. Eleven Studio had struggled to find the right location, but Renly had made a single phone call and secured Madison Square Garden. Now, looking back, all the clues started to make sense.

Renly gave a simple answer. "I have some friends." And without further explanation, he walked toward the recording studio.

"That's quite the understatement," Roy mused. He recalled how Renly had been suppressed during a performance in London's West End. "Do you remember? There was an issue during rehearsals at the Almeida Theatre—though it was resolved. Could it be that some of Renly's friends helped with that, while others were against it?"

They could only speculate; none of them had the answers. After a short silence, Roy turned to Andy. "So, now what? Should we respond?"

Andy rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the situation. "I'll call Lydia and discuss it with her," he said. They were in uncharted territory, unsure of the consequences of their next move.

While Andy and Roy strategized, Nathan, still processing everything, spoke up timidly. "But didn't Renly already say it himself?" His confusion was clear. "He admitted it without hesitation. So, doesn't that mean we just tell reporters the same thing?"

Andy smiled, appreciating Nathan's insight. "Your suggestion's good. I'll call Lydia now."

The entire internet was in an uproar, and Hollywood was buzzing with the news, but Renly remained focused on his work. He returned to the studio to continue the recording of "The Ellen Show" as if the storm swirling around him didn't even exist.

When the recording resumed, Ellen DeGeneres looked at Renly with an expression of disbelief. For a moment, she was silent, clearly struggling to process what she had just learned. Renly was confused. The director was on the verge of interrupting the recording, but Ellen finally spoke up.

"Is that true?" she asked, her voice filled with surprise.

Renly, still processing, smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Yes, that's true."

Ellen, now clearly ecstatic, jumped onto her sofa, her excitement infectious. "So, does this mean you've met Queen Elizabeth?"

The audience was left in stunned silence. What?