The Greatest Showman #1244 – Maximum Penalty

Among the four children of the Hall family, Arthur is the most striking.

With his well-defined face, handsome and clear-cut features, a slender yet sturdy body, and an elegance that radiates between his eyebrows, he perfectly embodies the charm of an aristocratic man. He seamlessly blends refinement with masculinity, creating an aura of effortless sophistication that captivates all who look upon him. His eyes, flowing with a thrilling intensity, draw you in.

Edith once teased Arthur, saying even God couldn't help but be envious.

Renly would wholeheartedly agree. Anyone standing beside Arthur seems to fade into the background.

Tonight, Arthur, dressed in a navy blue suit with a white bow tie, sits with one leg casually draped over the other. His dark red plaid socks peek out from above his ankles, subtly enhancing his entire ensemble, exuding a quiet yet undeniable sense of admiration. As he sits in the party hall, a cold aura surrounds him, a clear signal to strangers to keep their distance. His eyes scan the room, sharply but briefly, making those who dare to meet his gaze retreat, unsure if they should approach.

At that moment, Renly and Arthur sit at opposite ends of the room. An unspoken power surge is present, no words or actions needed. Their mere presence sends ripples through the atmosphere of the event:

The contrast between the two is striking, each possessing their own unique appeal, yet both irresistibly charismatic.

Everyone in the room is left speculating: Who is the man sitting across from Renly? Why is he here at the Oscars tonight? And why is he on equal footing with Renly? Did Renly personally approach him? What are they discussing right now? Is it too forward to step in and greet them?

Despite their efforts to mask their curiosity, the intense stares from all directions are unavoidably obvious.

Arthur, who is well-accustomed to the discreet and subtle social games of the British elite, finds their behavior amusing. "As expected, the Yankees always know how to entertain the crowd."

To the modern-day American, "Yankees" is synonymous with the New York Yankees. But to the British, especially the aristocracy, it carries a deeper, historical significance.

The term "Yankee" can be traced back to seventeenth-century British immigrants who left for North America and settled in New England. In those times, Yankees symbolized high education, wealth, and class. New England became a hub of intellectual and academic prestige, yet to the British, Yankees were seen as opportunists—people who couldn't find success in Britain and fled to an untamed land to make their fortune.

By the time of the American Revolution, the term had taken on new connotations, with Americans proudly using it as a symbol of their identity. Over time, the word spread worldwide, sometimes used in a derogatory fashion to describe Americans, and other times as a playful jab at their perceived self-importance.

To the British aristocracy, however, the Yankees were seen as pretenders—those who had abandoned their homeland to live in a 'wild' new world but still clung to an air of false aristocracy.

The British elite are experts at identifying the subtle elements that define class: background, education, family heritage, wealth, and status. Even language—salutations, humor, the way words are used—betrays a person's true origins. These are the hallmarks of hereditary aristocracy, deeply ingrained and meticulously upheld.

Yet Renly and Arthur's generation is slowly letting go of these restraints. Elf is the exception—she still strictly adheres to her family's traditional values. But Renly and Arthur's exchange shows that the lines are becoming blurred.

Renly chuckled softly. "So you made a special trip here just to become entertainment for the masses?"

On the surface, Renly was teasing Arthur about attending the Oscars; the underlying question, though, was why Arthur was in Los Angeles.

Arthur didn't directly respond but instead gently swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the light dance in its amber hue.

"How long has it been since you've heard from George or Elizabeth?" Arthur asked, changing the topic.

Renly's answer was casual, "I'm not sure. I can't even remember the last time I spoke to them."

Arthur smiled at this and turned his attention back to the whiskey, his voice soft as he continued. "You know, they couldn't be prouder of you right now."

Arthur glanced back at Renly, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"The youngest son of the Hall family," he began, "always managing to be at every event, carving out a name in Hollywood, claiming space on the West Side and Broadway. But more importantly, he's remained true to his artistic pursuits. Talented, modest, and low-key—he's destined for greatness."

The curve of his smile deepened, tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "Who wouldn't want to meet Renly? I've even heard rumors about Prince Harry inquiring about you. The Queen, of all people, is apparently intrigued by you. Though she's not a fan of movies, I've heard she's curious about your production of Les Miserables."

Renly chuckled softly at the absurdity of it all.

The rumors about the Queen were clearly fabricated. The old queen had little interest in movies or young actors—what truly captivated her were timeless classics.

Arthur, too, smirked, shaking his head as he watched Renly. "But here's the real issue: Renly, the maverick actor, has managed to stay so focused on his craft that he's even avoided attending Princess Beatrice's parties."

Renly shrugged, a look of innocence on his face.

Arthur chuckled again, liking Renly's nonchalant response. "So George and Elizabeth ended up being the perfect invitees. They've always supported you, of course, but it's clear that they agreed from the start that your talent would take you far. They were just waiting for the moment when you'd rise and outshine everyone."

As Arthur spoke, his eyes never left Renly.

In the past few months, George and Elizabeth's careers had taken off. They had become the most celebrated figures in high society. And yet, there was a key difference—they owed it all to Renly's absence. With him out of the picture, they could claim the glory as their own.

Arthur found it amusing. On the surface, George and Elizabeth were basking in their newfound success. But deep down, they were tormented by the knowledge that everything they had achieved was due to Renly. The resentment gnawed at them, even if they were too proud to admit it.

What was Renly's perspective on all this? How would he handle it?

Arthur couldn't discern any change in Renly's demeanor. It was as if he was listening to an old story, untouched by any real emotion. This made Arthur smile knowingly. "You know, sometimes I think you're even more frightening than Elf. You have this old soul in a young body, seeing through everything with ease."

Renly smiled wryly. "So what do you expect from me? Should I return to London and join this little drama myself?" Renly paused, laughing lightly. "It's tempting, I'll admit. It would be quite the spectacle."

Arthur knew exactly what was at stake for George and Elizabeth now. Their greatest wish was that Renly never returned to London. As long as he stayed away, they could continue enjoying their success, pretend it was all their doing, and keep their lives intact.

Renly shrugged slightly, a glint of wisdom in his eyes. "But if I did return, what would that make me? No different from them."

His words, simple yet profound, left Arthur momentarily stunned. He pondered them carefully.

Renly added with a knowing smile, "Besides, this is the greatest punishment."

To enjoy the spotlight in front of people; to hide behind rumors in private; to pray for Renly's absence while still fearing his return. George and Elizabeth had been living this way for years, and now, with Renly's shadow looming over them, it was the final burden they had to bear.

This, Renly mused, was their greatest punishment.