The Greatest Showman #1316 - Bring It On

The entire hall fell silent.

Not a breath, not a heartbeat could be heard; all eyes were fixed on Renly. There were supporters and detractors, admiration and scorn, light and darkness—all of it focused on him. Yet Renly stood unfazed, his back even straighter.

In that instant, a light seemed to emerge from the depths of his soul, slowly illuminating the room. And then, without any accompaniment, a chant began to echo, as if from an angel:

"When the blade of words attacked, I fought back with overwhelming force. I was brave and fearless, covered in bruises and wounds. I was born with myself, and this is who I am!"

His voice trembled slightly, betraying the softness and fragility within. Tears welled up in his clear eyes, and the weight of his sorrow became almost unbearable. Yet, despite the grief, the phrase "this is me" rang with courage, tinged with sadness.

There was no melody, no accompaniment—just a pure voice. But that voice was enough to release all the emotional weight buried deep within his soul.

Even George, Elizabeth, and Viscount Bioford stood in stunned silence for a moment. The power of Renly's presence made their souls feel small, almost crawling on the ground in worship. For a fleeting moment, they questioned their actions and their prejudices.

But the moment passed quickly.

As they recognized their own shame and failure, it deepened. Denial only made the stigma more ingrained. Now, they had no choice but to stand tall, no matter how much they ached inside.

"Boom!"

Renly slammed his hands onto the black and white keys. It was like the myth of Sisyphus—struggling against the weight of destiny itself, yet without hesitation. Every ounce of emotion, every bit of energy, was released at once. The music soared in its grandeur and majesty.

"Watch out, I'm going to be on stage! I'm going to beat the drum! I'm not afraid, I'm open-minded. I'll never apologize for that, that's who I am!"

The release was complete.

Renly's singing reached its true climax. There was no restraint, no boundaries—just raw, unfettered emotion. His voice cracked, rich and hoarse, sending waves of feeling into the air. The music burst forth, magnifying its beauty and splendor, as if a star had exploded in the sky. The entire world seemed to brighten in that moment.

At that instant, only Renly existed.

The One and Only Renly Hall.

More than 80% of the people in the hall couldn't control their emotions. They raised their hands, gently swaying to the melody. Passion bubbled up in their veins, and the heat of it seared deep into their souls.

They had been silent for so long, contained for so long. But now, in this moment—perhaps in the quiet of the night—they longed to break free from their shackles, to run barefoot and embrace who they truly were. Even if it was just a fleeting moment, it was a moment of pure joy.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The keys rang out, the sound crashing like waves. The melodies flowed relentlessly beneath Renly's fingertips, building the atmosphere like an unstoppable tide. And then, with a powerful, sudden halt, all the energy and emotion was condensed into one final, resounding fist-pump:

"This is me!"

This is me. No matter the attack or injury, let the horse come. No matter the obstacle or setback, let the horse come. No matter the slander or insult, let the horse come. No matter the storm or disaster, let the horse come. I face it with unwavering courage!

Stars filled the air, their radiance overwhelming.

Renly stood before them, blindingly brilliant, so dazzling that no one dared look directly at him.

Beatrice, overcome with emotion, couldn't contain herself. She clapped passionately, tears streaming down her face, her heart alight. She didn't care about the tears; she clapped with pure, unbridled joy. It was as though the warmth of the moment was burning through her soul.

"Damn," Edith muttered softly, feeling an unusual sense of embarrassment. She resembled a character from a melodramatic soap opera, with tears and snot mingling on her face. It was a stain on her life. Yet, a smile tugged at her lips, one more genuine than any smile she'd ever given Renly.

With a mixture of admiration and frustration, Edith cursed under her breath. "Damn guy."

Then, she began clapping, loudly and enthusiastically, even whistling in approval. The high-class banquet had suddenly turned into something far more boisterous.

Looking up, Edith noticed Arthur standing nearby, tears in his eyes. He was transfixed by Renly at the grand piano. His eyes sparkled like stars, and a powerful self-assurance radiated from him, as though he were a king accepting the homage of his subjects.

Arthur couldn't put his feelings into words.

Nobles were taught to be reserved—stoic, even in the face of pain and hatred. Emotions were to be hidden. But Renly had done the opposite. He had laid bare his soul under the open sky, standing tall and unapologetically himself, his presence radiating like sunlight.

Arthur glanced toward Matthew and the others across the room. They too were clapping, cheering like a frenzy had swept over them. Their applause was louder, more intense than even the praise at the Almeida Theater. Arthur now understood why Renly had such a devoted circle of friends.

Finally, his gaze turned to Edith. He smiled sheepishly, admitting, "What a pity. Elf didn't see this."

Edith responded, eyes narrowing, "How do you know?" In the corner of the second-floor room, she'd caught a fleeting figure. It had seemed familiar. If Elf had missed this moment, it would have been awkward, to say the least.

The two exchanged a knowing glance before looking at George and Elizabeth, who were standing not far away. A slow smile crept into their expressions.

The party was just getting started. Though it felt wrong to think this way, neither could hide the excitement bubbling inside.

After the performance, Renly stood, his body tense, every muscle stretched taut. His music had released all the pent-up negative energy, but more than that, it was an affirmation—an assertion of his truth.

He didn't care about the gossip, the judgment, or the stares. In his first life, he had not lived for others. He had only wanted to live for himself, to build a world of his own, to soar freely in that space.

This is me.

His roar was a cry from the depths of his soul. He let it all go, unapologetically, standing tall before the crowd.

It wasn't for George, Elizabeth, or Viscount Bioford. It wasn't for the royals or the other guests. This was for Renly. His melody. His lyrics. His soul. His persistence.

And at that moment, Renly stood, resolute.

The applause was deafening. The sound was like thunder, shaking the foundations of high society. Even William and Kate clapped politely, acknowledging the performance, the bravery, and the release.

The applause continued, a wave crashing with unstoppable force, vibrating in the air like the aftermath of a tsunami.

Renly, drenched in sweat and exhausted, barely noticed. The energy of the performance had drained him, but he didn't mind. His eyes searched the crowd, locking onto his goal.

With everyone's attention on him, Renly stepped forward. All eyes followed him as he moved confidently, his gaze fixed on George and Elizabeth, standing just ahead. The air grew thick again, but Renly didn't hesitate. He walked forward, step by step, head held high.

What should they do?

That was the only question in George and Elizabeth's minds. Should they leave? Should they act composed? Should they panic? How could they maintain their aristocratic elegance in front of everyone?

But before they could decide, someone stepped forward first.

Viscount John de Bioford.