The Greatest Showman#1314 - Passionate
His slender fingers pressed against the black and white keys, releasing a melody that shimmered like cold moonlight, cascading gently, wrapping the room in a tranquil embrace. The notes danced lightly, an ethereal presence of golden light flickering amidst the sound, soothing nerves and silencing restless thoughts.
In that moment, Renly was alone in the world.
"I have long been accustomed to the darkness, where whispers urge me to vanish, despising the imperfections I bear."
His voice, hoarse and haunting like the rustle of an autumn night's rain, carried desolation and loneliness. Yet within it lay a profound tenderness, an intimate unveiling of wounds buried deep within his soul. No explanation was necessary—every note, every word, carried the weight of unspoken truth.
Across the room, George and Elizabeth sat rigid. The moment they had feared was unfolding before them. The truth they had long concealed was now stripping away its mask, unveiling itself in the rawest form.
"I have learned to be ashamed of my scars. They tell me to flee, insisting no one will cherish my true self."
A flicker of vulnerability passed over Edith's face. She was frozen in place, realization washing over her—she had never known. Beneath Renly's unwavering persistence, beneath the armor he had meticulously built, he too had doubted, had suffered, had bled under the weight of the Hall name. The recognition struck her like a blow.
But Renly's expression did not waver. His eyes, translucent and bright, carried a tenacity that steadily grew, igniting with unwavering resolve.
"But I will not let them defeat me. There is a world that belongs to me, simply because I am different!"
The melody, once gentle, surged with power, his fingertips pressing into the keys with newfound intensity. His voice soared, breaking free from the depths of his soul, shining with unrelenting brightness.
Clear. Pure. Unstoppable.
"When words cut like blades, I strike back with unwavering force. I am brave. I bear my scars. I am exactly who I am meant to be—this is me!"
Spine straight, chin lifted, gaze unwavering.
This was Renly.
Even as he was paraded like an actor for noble entertainment, he did not bow. Even as his family distanced themselves from him, eager to erase any connection before outsiders could taint their reputation, he did not break. Even as ridicule and contempt surrounded him, he never questioned his path.
He was Renly Sebastian Hall.
An actor.
And he had never, and would never, regret it. Chasing his dreams had given him freedom, had brought him happiness. He would not run. He would not yield. He stood above the petty judgments of those who could not comprehend the fire within him.
"Watch as I step onto the stage, beating my own drum! I am fearless, I am unashamed, and I will never apologize for it. This is me!"
Matthew's eyes burned. He heard every word, felt every note reverberate in his chest.
When Viscount John de Beaufort had issued his command, everyone had hesitated—even Matthew. Because deep down, he, too, had believed it was an insult, a humiliation.
But Renly had never flinched.
He did not hide. He did not cower. He did not apologize.
This was Renly Hall—the man whispered about in London's high society. Once mocked, now envied. He had never changed, not in the face of scorn, nor in the face of admiration.
The ones who should feel ashamed were not those who performed, but those who feared performance. Those who made the request, and those who trembled at the request. Deep down, they still refused to acknowledge Renly as an actor, still clung to their outdated hierarchy, their fragile grasp on status and tradition.
Viscount John de Beaufort?
A relic of the past, clinging to his crumbling world, destined to be swept away by time.
Tonight, Renly Hall stood unshaken, his light undimmed, laying himself bare beneath the critical gazes of the elite.
His calm confidence, his unwavering courage, his sheer brilliance made them all seem small.
For the first time, Matthew felt ashamed.
Yet he did not care. He raised his chin proudly, unbothered by the unshed tears in his eyes. He saw the nobles for what they were—petty, hollow, insignificant. Stripped of their inherited titles, they had nothing.
The music climbed, sweeping through the banquet hall like a raging storm. No one spoke. No one moved. All eyes were fixed on Renly, their breaths stolen by the sheer force of his presence.
Before them, he grew—steadily, brilliantly—until he was undeniable.
"I have faced every bullet they fired at me. Let them come! I will cut through, break free, and rise with the dawn. I am a warrior—I stand tall and unshaken!"
Viscount Beaufort's face twisted with rage, his cane trembling in his grip. His mouth opened, but no words came, only a sharp crack as a tooth snapped under the pressure of his clenched jaw. He swallowed hard, his fury choking him into silence.
For he could do nothing.
The hall pulsed with an uncontainable energy. The air itself seemed to vibrate. Every gaze was locked onto Renly, spellbound by the force of his defiance, his unrelenting truth.
Viscount Beaufort saw an attack against himself.
But George and Elizabeth knew better.
This was not about the Viscount. This was about them.
For years, they had avoided direct confrontation. Renly had left for New York after graduation. Even when he returned, he stayed away from society's scrutiny, allowing his parents to enjoy their unblemished reputation. When his identity had been exposed, he had distanced himself, keeping their secrets intact.
They had never fought, never clashed head-on.
Tonight, that ended.
Renly refused to yield any longer. He would not compromise. He would not be silent.
Once, their rejection had been a weight he carried, their disdain a wound unhealed. But no more. If they wished to strike him down again—
Let them try.
For the first time, Renly stood before them not as a boy, but as a force of nature. He was a warrior. He was a fighter. And nothing—not their scorn, not their denial—could shake his path.
Even alone, he would see this through to the end.
For the first time, George and Elizabeth felt something they never had before—humiliation.
The room was suffocating with the weight of judgment, their carefully crafted facade crumbling before an audience that now saw them as they were.
The youngest son of the Hall family had broken free.
No one could stop him now.
The final chords crashed like thunder, a triumphant march echoing across the hall. Renly's voice rang out, powerful and unyielding, carrying with it the force of an entire generation's defiance.
"I will not let them break me. There is a world that belongs to me, simply because I am different!"
Suddenly, Edith stepped forward, raising her right hand high, pointing towards the heavens.
A declaration. A promise. A pledge.
She would follow him. Through every storm, through every battle, she would march beside him.
Because they were family.
And together, they would fight.