The Greatest Showman #1263 - 1 choice

Damien was being honest—he hadn't given much thought to the actor candidates for his project, not even the ideal lineup in his mind. The project had been slow in finding a producer, and Damien didn't even have a solid starting point. He wasn't qualified or equipped to come up with an optimal cast.

He had been uncertain until he met Renly.

Damien didn't know if he'd ever find the right producers and investors for his work, or if he'd simply wait endlessly, seeing his dreams fade away. He didn't know what kind of producers and investors he might encounter, or if they'd even appreciate his work, ultimately changing it beyond recognition. Even if he managed to find a way to make his vision a reality, he didn't know if the project would succeed on the big screen.

Uncertainty—that was the essence of Damien's state of mind, the state in which "The Popping Drummer" existed.

But when Renly's face crossed his mind, a sudden realization struck. Wasn't Renly the perfect choice?

It made sense in every way. This story was about college students, requiring young actors to bring it to life, and in Hollywood, there were only a handful of young, talented actors who could embody the raw energy needed for Andrew's character.

Damien had even considered looking for a young actor with drumming experience, thinking the performance shouldn't be too over-the-top. But when Renly appeared in his thoughts, it was like a flood of inspiration. Damien could already see the performance vividly in his mind. But before he could fully process it, a sobering thought interrupted him. The best actors were also the rarest, and how could Renly, with his talents, agree to star in such an unknown project?

The excitement drained away gradually, and Damien's shoulders slumped as he awkwardly bit his lip, unsure of how to continue. He glanced at Renly again.

To his surprise, Renly's eyes sparkled with a playful smile, and the corners of his mouth lifted in a grin. Damien's heart skipped a beat.

"I think it's a very interesting proposal," Renly said with a nod.

This wasn't a joke.

Portraying Andrew—someone who teeters between reality and fantasy, whose obsessive pursuit of artistic perfection ultimately drives him mad—was bound to be an intense performance. It would feel like selling one's soul to the devil, all in the pursuit of art.

Unlike past roles, Renly would need to dig deep into the very essence of himself, exploring the blurred lines between performance and reality, and fully immersing in the madness of it all.

What's more, Andrew was no easy character to love. He was a mess—chaotic and uncompromising. Unlike "Edge of Tomorrow," where the character of William Cage needed to maintain screen presence and charm, Andrew required the opposite. The character needed to make the audience feel disgusted and repulsed. If the performance left viewers feeling uneasy, that would be a success.

It was, in a way, a challenge to play the "villain."

When Renly first received the script for Thor, his instinct was to play Loki instead of Thor. Though that didn't pan out, it wasn't the first time he'd been drawn to darker, more complex characters.

Renly had always sought to challenge himself with new roles, to break boundaries, and "The Popping Drummer" seemed like a perfect fit.

However, this time, Renly didn't feel the usual excitement. It wasn't because the character or script lacked appeal, but because he was genuinely tired—physically and emotionally drained from shooting Gravity and Drunken Country Ballad in succession. The exhaustion weighed heavily on him. If it were earlier, he would've jumped at the chance to dive into The Popping Drummer, but now, he felt an unusual calm. His enthusiasm just couldn't be sparked.

"If the timing works out, I'd be happy to join," Renly said seriously. "But I've decided to take some time off. I need a break. I'm not sure how long it'll be—maybe a month, maybe two, or even longer. I haven't decided yet."

"When I'm ready, if the role is still open, I'd be honored to join. But to not delay your production, I think it's best to speed things up." Renly offered a faint smile. "Don't worry, even while on vacation, I'll find someone suitable to handle your project."

Once the excitement started to subside, Damien was able to regain his composure.

He could sense Renly's sincerity—or at least, he was willing to believe it. Renly's dark brown eyes seemed to read right through him, recognizing the struggles and the passion of artistic creation, the determination, and the hardships. It felt like a kindred understanding.

Damien didn't rush this time. He took a moment to consider his words carefully. "Renly, I'm serious. I think you're the perfect choice to play Andrew. I know everyone says that. I've heard it countless times."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "How come I didn't know about this?"

Damien paused, caught off guard for a moment, before breaking into a grin. "Us new directors, we all dream of the perfect cast when we write a script. For the past year, you've been the one I've imagined—perfect acting, perfect image, perfect dedication. And, most importantly, you've never turned down an independent film."

Seeing the smile playing at Renly's lips, Damien chuckled, lowering his gaze. "I'm not just flattering you. It's all true. Honestly, I can't think of anyone better suited than you."

Renly, ever the wisecracker, chimed in, "Even if I don't know how to play the drums?"

Damien laughed helplessly, his eyes catching Renly's mischievous grin. He finally nodded. "Yes, even if you don't know how to play the drums. I'm not sure how long your break will last, but as long as we can catch the Sundance deadline, I'm willing to wait for you."

Renly didn't immediately respond, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line. "I think directors are all liars. You say this to every actor to get them to agree to be in your movie. 'You're the perfect choice'—I'm sure that's a phrase every director uses."

From Drake Doremus to Alfonso Cuaron, to the Coen brothers, and even Spielberg, Renly had heard it all before. The initial excitement, then the gradual realization that those words meant nothing after a while.

Damien laughed and shrugged. "Maybe. If that's true, I guess I've learned my lesson well. It's a good start."

Renly nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "I see through your plan." Then, switching topics, he asked, "So how did you come up with this script? It's not exactly the most obvious creative idea."

Renly and Damien sat together at the bar in the train carriage, chatting away as they shared their love for film. Their conversation veered from the business side to their personal views on cinema, and they argued, laughed, and passed time until the early hours of the morning. By the time they said goodbye and left the train carriage, the first light of dawn was peeking over the horizon.

The next day, when Renly woke up in his apartment, it was already afternoon.

He had stayed up until after 4 a.m., and the lingering effects of too much coffee from the night before left him feeling slightly dull-headed.

What he needed now was a glass of hot milk.

Unfortunately, being in Los Angeles, his refrigerator was empty. Without Matthew around to help with groceries, Renly realized he had little to work with. So, he took a shower, dressed, and went out in search of food.

The warm California sunshine bathed everything in a lazy, laid-back glow. By 3 p.m., Renly found himself sitting at an outdoor café, enjoying a cup of coffee and savoring the relaxing ambiance. Life felt slower here, and it was hard not to just sink into the warmth of it all.

Meanwhile, in New York, the cold rain continued to fall. No wonder people always say that life on the East Coast and the West Coast is so different.

At that moment, Renly heard the familiar sound of a chair being pulled out, followed by Andy Rogers' voice.

"Waiter, I'll have an espresso. Thank you."