The Greatest Showman #1174 - Sunshine Lover
Renly was a man who honored his promises—never making them lightly, but once given, he did everything in his power to keep them. Now, faced with Annie, his emotions were tangled. He didn't want to give her false hope, only to see her disappointed.
What if he failed to keep his word? What if his recklessness led to yet another heartbreak for Annie? What if his interference strained her relationship with Joss? What if he, lost in his performances, simply forgot? Just as he had in the past six months?
His words had been impulsive.
But then he saw Annie's eyes sparkle. Her cheeks, still tear-streaked and flushed like red apples, bore traces of embarrassment, yet her entire demeanor had brightened. She radiated warmth, a little sun blooming before him—like a puppy eagerly wagging its tail, thrilled by a moment of attention.
Unintentionally, Renly found himself smiling.
As realization dawned on him—his own joy, his own relief—he shook his head with an amused helplessness. His expression held disbelief, exasperation, and, beneath it all, a reluctant happiness at his own surrender.
Had he just been tricked into having a daughter?
Renly let out a soft chuckle. Annie, unsure of why, stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter as well. She laughed purely, delightedly, her voice ringing like silver bells, washing away the cold dampness of the moment. The air itself seemed lighter, more electric.
A promise was a promise. Now that he had made it, Renly intended to keep it.
He pulled out his phone and began sharing his personal contact information with Annie.
After completing "Take Off" early last year, Renly had changed his phone number. His previous number had somehow leaked, drawing an increasing number of unwanted texts and calls—not only from reporters and paparazzi but also from a handful of overly enthusiastic fans. Initially, this was manageable by blocking unfamiliar numbers, but after the "Hypegate" scandal, things spiraled out of control.
Paparazzi had started using tracking systems to pinpoint his location in real time.
One particular incident stood out.
On the eve of the Oscars, Renly had handed his phone to Nathan to record a segment. Later, he had forgotten to retrieve it and went straight home. Nathan, equally absentminded, left the phone in his coat pocket and took the subway home.
Unbeknownst to him, the paparazzi had tracked the phone's location.
Assuming Renly had secretly left his apartment in the middle of the night to visit someone else, the paparazzi saw an opportunity. They stormed the building where the phone was located, forcing their way into Nathan's apartment like a SWAT team on a raid.
Nathan had barely cracked open the door before four men pushed their way in. In a moment of sheer panic, he nearly lost control of his bladder.
Once they realized their mistake, the paparazzi fled, but Nathan had already called the police. Four arrests were made for trespassing. The irony? Those same paparazzi regrouped outside Renly's actual apartment and were promptly rounded up again.
After that, Renly changed his phone—and his number—again.
Now, he carried two phones: one for work, handled mostly by Nathan, and a private one, known only to a select few. Due to his filming schedule, even the private phone remained in airplane mode most of the time.
Ryan Gosling had once grumbled, "That's not a phone. It's a brick."
Renly simply wasn't attached to social media. He might have belonged to the internet generation, but he lived like an old soul, out of sync with the digital age.
Having spent much of his previous life confined to a hospital bed, disconnected from the world, he hadn't developed the same reliance on social networks. That didn't mean he was oblivious to their power. On the contrary, his background in journalism had given him a sharp awareness of media influence and manipulation. The question wasn't whether he understood social media—it was whether he cared enough to use it.
For now, the answer remained no. Other things mattered more.
And so, Renly handed Annie his personal contact details.
If anyone else found out, they would be wildly envious. But Renly was confident—no one would.
"Shh, it's a secret. Right?" Annie whispered dramatically, staring at the phone screen. She then looked up, her intelligent eyes locking onto his. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. It's just between you and me." Her lips curled into a mischievous grin.
Then she got to work.
Her tiny fingers tapped rapidly on the screen, and when she finished, she proudly lifted the phone to show him.
"What do you think? Now no one will ever know! Not even my mom!"
Renly glanced at the contact name she had entered.
Miru.
He blinked. "Wait, is this… Miru from 'The Adventures of Tintin'?"
Annie's eyes lit up, nodding enthusiastically. "I told my mom that if I ever got a pet, I'd name him Miru."
Renly sighed in mock exasperation. "Miru? Really?"
"How smart am I?" Annie beamed. "Now no one will ever find out. It's our secret."
Faced with her infectious smile, Renly couldn't help but laugh. Their grins mirrored each other.
"Yes, Annie is the smartest," he admitted, gently ruffling her hair. "But listen, I'm usually working, so I might not respond to messages right away. Promise me you won't sit around waiting, okay?"
"I know, I know." Annie pouted, sighing dramatically. "Heather already told me—you need to focus when you work, just like her physical therapy sessions. She gets so serious, just like you."
She then muttered, "Last time, Anita was complaining that you never update your photo wall. If you did, we'd at least know what you were up to."
Renly groaned internally.
"Renly, what's a photo wall?" Annie's curiosity piqued.
He smirked. "Want to find out?"
Opening his Instagram app, he sat with Annie, explaining how it worked.
A few days later, in the middle of January, Renly's long-dormant Instagram account saw its first update in months.
The photo was completely blurred—either the camera had been jostled mid-click, or someone had taken it mid-jump. The image was unfocused, but through the haze, the outline of Renly's face was visible. The only discernible detail? The unmistakable curve of his smile—unfiltered joy, pure and bright.
It was the kind of photo captured mid-laughter, so candid it carried the warmth of the moment itself.
Within three hours, the post had two million likes. Fans were ecstatic.
"FINALLY!" flooded the comments.
Soon, the hashtag #RenlyUpdated went viral. Speculation ran wild.
Reporters were quick to latch onto the story. The grin in the photo—so unguarded, so happy—was unmistakable. Was Renly in love?
Theories took off, rumors spun. If someone else had taken the photo, it had to be someone special. Who was this mystery person?
Later, when Renly caught wind of the online frenzy, he laughed heartily before offering a cryptic response:
"Well… in a way, the photographer is a little sunshine sweetheart. You could even say she's my little lover."
And then he laughed even harder.