The Greatest Showman #1085 - Social Network

"Ten million? That's still not enough to beat a terminal illness. What do you think?"

Renly isn't a medical professional, nor does he have any predictions about when ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis) will find a cure—or even if one is possible. Before his rebirth, he had never heard of any promising developments in ALS research. But now, he can only do his best, hoping that a cure will come sooner rather than later.

It was Heather's wish, and Renly had promised to help make it happen.

He's not a savior. He doesn't feel qualified to be one. He doesn't want to change the fate of countless people or single-handedly cure ALS. But, at the very least, he can contribute to societal progress, working to change the status quo.

Ten million dollars is a drop in the ocean when it comes to fighting a terminal illness that has been largely neglected by society.

Whether it's researching the disease itself, developing effective treatments, or providing financial support to underprivileged patients and their families, ten million isn't enough. More importantly, what's needed is broader social awareness, drawing attention to the disease and rallying more people to join the cause. Only then can a terminal illness like ALS be truly conquered.

Andy's nose tingled, and his voice softened. "Renly, you don't have to shoulder this burden. You know it's not anyone's fault."

"I know." Renly chuckled softly, feeling Andy's concern. "I'm not carrying the burden alone. I'm just doing what I can and hoping—hoping that someday, someone will make a breakthrough. Even if it's not me, that's fine."

After a brief silence, Renly steered the conversation in a new direction. "You mentioned expanding the foundation's influence and raising funds. Do you have any ideas?"

Charitable foundations, after all, need to raise money. Individual efforts aren't enough—true progress requires collective action, and often, official backing.

Andy sighed, half-joking. "Don't you know? After high school, my creative spark dried up." He paused. "Honestly, the 'Today Show' idea is pretty solid, and I can't think of anything better. But, since young people are so engaged with social networks, maybe we could start with Facebook or YouTube. Create some videos of real patients to raise awareness about the fear surrounding the disease."

Renly interrupted with a smile. "That's so old-school. For young people, it's not about sentimental, Oprah-style stories. Social networks don't work like that."

Andy shrugged, not offended. "I told you, my creative juices ran dry a long time ago." Then he noticed something. "I thought you weren't interested in social networks. You don't even have an account."

Indeed, Renly had no social network accounts to his name. It was an odd thing for a young man born in 1989.

"No account doesn't mean no understanding," Renly replied cryptically. "Don't you think you might avoid it because you know too much?"

As a reborn soul, Renly knew the power of social networks. In his past life, he had been bedridden due to ALS, unable to do anything for himself. His family, nurses, and fellow patients had handled everything for him, including the management of social media accounts. It was an age where it was impossible to remain ignorant of social networks, even if you weren't active on them.

In this life, however, Renly had deliberately avoided creating accounts, partly due to his family's emphasis on privacy. While this hadn't affected him much personally, for younger people and journalists, it was considered strange—an absurd choice, in fact.

One of the most interesting cases he remembered was Christian Bale, who, after much hesitation, finally opened a personal Twitter account. He posted a simple "hello" as his first tweet, but within half an hour, he posted again, declaring, "I think I'm not suited for Twitter" and promptly deactivated his account.

Now, for the first time, Renly was considering whether to open his own account. A middle-aged man with the soul of a 54-year-old, yet a complete novice in the world of social media.

He set the thought aside, focusing instead on discussing the potential lead for the heroine in Gravity. Andy wanted Renly's personal opinion on which actress he preferred.

Although Renly wouldn't be directly involved in the casting decisions as a producer, his opinion was highly valued. Whether it was Alfonso Cuarón or the production team, everyone sought his input. So, Andy wanted to hear Renly's thoughts before moving forward.

Instead of giving a direct answer, Renly opened up the possibilities. All three actresses were ones he would love to work with, and each collaboration would bring something unique. No matter which actress was ultimately chosen, Renly was eager for the experience.

After a long discussion, they ended the call. Renly casually tossed his phone on the table, grabbed his coffee, and breathed in its aroma, but his gaze remained fixed on the phone. After a long moment of hesitation, he picked it up again and decided to open a social network account.

Admittedly, Renly felt a mix of anticipation and reluctance.

On the one hand, he didn't want to overshare his private life, yet he hoped to gain recognition as an actor. On the other hand, deep down, he feared becoming addicted to social networks. He had seen countless stories about the beauty of online personas, but in reality, those same people often faced loneliness and depression. He didn't want to fall into that trap.

Social network addiction is a problem most modern urbanites face, and despite Renly being a reborn soul, it didn't give him any special advantage in this regard.

Yet, the era of social networks has fundamentally changed the relationship between artists and their fans. Artists now had a more authentic connection with their followers, but this also meant they were exposed to more opinions, both positive and negative—and the new reality of cyberbullying.

Renly had seen the impact of social media firsthand, both the good and the bad, but had never personally participated. Now, though, curiosity was getting the better of him.

The time had come. There was no reason to hesitate any longer. He would choose a platform and give it a try. If he didn't like it, he could always delete the account, just like Christian Bale had done.

By 2012, social networks were thriving—Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, Weibo, WeChat, Instagram, Snapchat, and more. Each platform had its own large community, contributing to a vast online world.

Most people registered for accounts on multiple networks, exploring the virtual world from all angles. Renly, however, didn't want to overwhelm himself. After careful thought, he chose Instagram as his first platform.

Facebook, with its emphasis on personal details like education and location, felt too intrusive for Renly's tastes, so he ruled it out. YouTube, while popular, required substantial time and effort in content creation—something Renly didn't want to commit to at this stage.

Weibo and WeChat were mainly used in China in 2012, with limited global reach, so they didn't make the cut either.

In the end, Renly narrowed his choices down to Instagram and Twitter. Both platforms focused on short, digestible content, which suited his needs—brief posts, simple photos, and quick interactions.

Renly recalled that by 2017, both Twitter and Instagram had become mainstream platforms, with Instagram experiencing explosive growth. While they didn't have the user base of Facebook or YouTube, the active users on these platforms were steadily increasing.

After much deliberation, Renly settled on Twitter and Instagram. He appreciated that these platforms would allow him to engage with his audience quickly and efficiently—or so he hoped.

With a sense of resolve, Renly spent the next thirty minutes tinkering with his new accounts. Time slipped away unnoticed as he immersed himself in this new experience.

It's no wonder so many people get lost in social networks, scrolling mindlessly through endless posts. Renly, too, was caught up in the novelty of this new virtual world.

And to his surprise, Renly discovered something odd: when he searched for "Renly Hall" on both Twitter and Instagram, more than a hundred accounts appeared—each claiming to be the real Renly Hall. It was a bizarre, bewildering sight, and some users even swore that they were the "true" Renly Hall.