The past year has been anything but easy for Renly.
From Berlin to Heather-Cross, from Hypegate to the Grammys, from the Oscars to the West End, and from Edge of Tomorrow to Gravity, his life has been a rollercoaster of highs and lows. Amid all the chaos, Renly could only truly forget his troubles and immerse himself in his work when he was on the West End and Broadway stages.
Day after day, with no breathing room.
He needs rest. He needs a long vacation to truly relax, clear his mind, and let go of the endless tasks and worries. He needs time to slow down, to reflect on everything, to find calm.
After his performance in Les Miserables, he'd planned to step away from the stage, the cameras, and the spotlight. He wanted to disconnect completely. But then... Gravity came into his life.
In truth, Renly understood just how rare and significant this opportunity was. He knew that Gravity was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. When he first agreed to work with Alfonso Cuarón, he did so with sincere enthusiasm, eager to dive into the world of performance with excitement and impatience.
But deep down, a part of Renly always questioned himself. Not about Gravity—but about his own state. Should he keep pushing himself like this, as if he were a workaholic? Was he truly in the best shape, physically and mentally, to take on this role? Would he still be able to deliver a remarkable performance after all the intense pressure and exhaustion from the past year?
Now, all that uncertainty had vanished.
Renly had found his clarity, his conviction. This was the right choice. This was his source of passion. This was the drive he needed to keep going.
He could choose to rest, to take a break whenever he wanted, but projects like Gravity and roles like Ryan Stone don't come around every day. If he passed on them, he'd be missing out on something extraordinary. The exhaustion—both physical and mental—paled in comparison to the joy, excitement, and fulfillment he felt when immersed in this performance.
As he now thought back to everything that had happened, the memories flooded his mind. His blood started to race. This was him. Renly Hall. His name might only be a symbol, but at his core, he was an actor—fueled by the thrill of performance, intoxicated by the art, and driven by the desire to give everything for his craft.
If it were possible, Renly would dive straight into filming Gravity right now, pouring his ideas and interpretations into his portrayal, sculpting Ryan Stone into his own version, creating something deeper and more vivid.
"So, has Ryan Stone found purpose and meaning in life?"
These simple words cut through the layers of fog, revealing Renly's true pursuit and determination. In that moment, he and Rooney connected on a deeper level, the shared madness of their dreams overlapping in an instant.
Then, reality hit like a tidal wave. The long dream faded, and everything became tangible, real—like never before.
Once again, Renly felt the pull of gravity.
Rooney, standing across from him, gazed at him with a warm smile and eyes that burned with intensity. The chill of her face was softened by the pale yellow sweater she wore, and the light between her brows shone brightly. Even from a distance, it was as if their gazes crossed, their spirits connected.
Renly couldn't help but smile, a small, knowing curve at the corner of his lips. He nodded slightly in affirmation. "Yes, I've found it."
Rooney's smile paused for a brief moment, then broke out in a radiant grin. Rather than inquire about Renly's experience, she shifted the conversation. "You know, when Alex cuts the rope, could it be that, beyond survival, she herself chose to give up?"
Renly paused, turning the question over in his mind. "Are you suggesting that two people, pushed to the edge of life and death, who worked together on the space station, then faced a cataclysmic disaster... Could that have led to Alex choosing to give up?"
Rooney thought for a moment, and then it clicked. She laughed heartily, understanding the subtle humor hidden within his response. "I guess, maybe geniuses do have some self-destructive tendencies."
After a lighthearted moment, Renly returned to the subject. "You mean that Ryan and Alex became friends because their souls resonated with one another? So, when Ryan was near death, Alex's image surfaced, sparking the survival instinct in him?"
In just a few words, Renly and Rooney understood each other perfectly.
"Does this mean that after cutting the rope, Alex regretted it? No... regret isn't the right word. It should be... awakening." Renly elaborated. "When Alex made the choice, she started drifting in space, and as she did, her spirit began to transform, to evolve."
In the movie, both Alex and Ryan are in a desperate situation, but with a better chance of survival, Alex sacrifices herself, cutting the rope and letting Ryan live. As Alex floats in space, awaiting death, her quiet end becomes a tragic part of the story.
Rooney immediately grasped Renly's point but shook her head. "No. The Alex who appears in Ryan's mind isn't real. She's an image he's conjured. The connection they share is one of resonance, but Alex had already lost communication, and based on the oxygen levels, she had already died. She didn't have time to reach the spiritual awakening you're describing. That insight came from Ryan's perspective."
"I know," Renly agreed, cutting in smoothly. "I'm not talking about Ryan's vision of Alex, but the source of their connection."
It all stemmed from the similarities and shared experiences between Ryan and Alex. If they had both kept their guards up, never truly opening up, their connection might have remained a mere understanding—an exchange of glances but no real resonance. But their willingness to face death together created something more profound.
"So, you're saying that after cutting the rope, Alex had an epiphany?" Rooney asked, intrigued.
Renly nodded. "Yes, as she drifted away from the station, death slowly approached, and in that process, her spirit underwent a transformation. It's not shown explicitly, but it's there in the subtext of their final exchange."
The script doesn't include this moment, but Renly's interpretation brought it to life. He had woven a deeper layer of meaning into the characters' brief interaction, infusing the scene with emotional weight.
In these unseen moments, the transformation of thought is conveyed only through the characters' dialogue. It's a test of an actor's skill, capturing the essence of these fleeting exchanges with minimal yet profound expression.
Rooney absorbed Renly's insights, her eyes lighting up with understanding. "I see... my concept of Alex is still evolving. Right now, I think..."
She eagerly began to pace the room, sharing her thoughts on Alex's character, exchanging ideas with Renly. Their conversation took on a life of its own, growing more animated with each passing second.
Outside, Nathan stopped at the door, unsure whether to interrupt. The passion in the room was palpable, and for a moment, he hesitated. It felt like they were in a world of their own, an intimate bubble of creativity. But he couldn't bring himself to intrude.
Nathan lingered for a moment, then let out a quiet chuckle, retreating from the door.
"How is Renly?" Roy asked, standing nearby.
Nathan thought for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "He's doing well. In fact, I think he's in better shape than I've seen him all year."