The Greatest Showman #1387 - See Also Scandal

"I'm not the type to pull out my phone and take pictures in a crisis situation."

In a single, understated remark, the reporters' expressions collectively darkened. Renly always had a knack for making reporters uncomfortable in just a few sentences, especially after Cornell McNair from Entertainment Weekly had confronted him. After the Greg incident, Renly became sharper in his responses to journalists.

Rooney stood beside him, feeling the unfamiliar distance between them in this moment. There was a subtle barrier around Renly, a spot that kept everyone at arm's length, shutting them out. It wasn't sadness, pain, or anger—it was loneliness.

"Obviously, these reporters are no ordinary people," Rooney said, her voice ringing clearly in the sudden quiet. Instantly, all eyes turned to her, but she wasn't flustered. She shrugged slightly, the corner of her mouth curling up into a meaningful smile. "They're the uncrowned kings. We made the choice of ordinary people, and they made the choice of the king."

The same lightness, the same understatement, but sharper and more pointed.

The reporters tried to maintain their air of indifference, but Rooney's words pierced through their defenses. They were suddenly caught off guard, embarrassed by the subtle truth in her statement.

Renly turned to look at her, surprised by the unexpected turn in the conversation.

Rooney raised her chin slightly, meeting his gaze. In her bright eyes, there was a mix of determination and playful light. She smiled, almost as if showing off. She even winked at him, teasing, "How was that? I did well, didn't I?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Renly's mouth. It was like the first rays of sunlight kissing the snowy peak of a mountain.

"Renly, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation again, would you still choose to get off the bus?" a reporter asked, breaking the tension.

Renly and Rooney exchanged a calm glance, their tacit understanding evident in the shared smile that passed between them.

Renly responded coolly, "I don't know. Will you still refuse to answer my question like you did last time?" He was referring to the deliveryman's situation.

"Oh, Lord Renly, you shouldn't be so hard on them," Rooney chimed in, her tone teasing as she answered in tandem. "After all, they've been waiting here for nearly two hours. At least, you should give them some credit."

Renly smirked lightly, acknowledging the point, then turned to the reporter. "Apologies, my fault. Next time, I'll do my best to act like an ordinary person. Though, while New York isn't Gotham and there aren't any bats around, I believe there aren't any clowns here either."

The reporters were caught off guard by Renly's wit. They came prepared to praise his heroism, but now, they found themselves the subject of ridicule.

Originally, Renly and Rooney had been the focus of the interview, but now, the reporters were the ones being put in the spotlight. The dynamic had shifted, and the journalists were left wondering: Could they salvage the situation?

Wait, Renly and Rooney?

The realization dawned on the reporters. Under Renly's deflection, they had almost forgotten the other half of the story. It was time to shift the focus back to them.

"Renly, may I ask, why are you and Rooney together tonight?" a reporter boldly asked.

The question piqued the interest of the entire group. The reporters leaned in with excitement and anticipation, eager for answers.

Unnoticed by most, Melissa was watching Renly and Rooney with admiration.

Though the question was aimed at Renly, it was Rooney who responded first. "You guys aren't being very honest. Why not just ask if Renly and I are dating tonight?" Her tone was teasing, and the reporters could sense the challenge in her words.

Renly raised an eyebrow and glanced at Rooney. A subtle smile tugged at his lips as he seemed to enjoy the playful banter.

Rooney, unfazed, pressed on. "So, Renly, may I ask, are you and I dating?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Renly gave a slight nod, his expression calm but thoughtful. "Isn't it up to the lady to decide?" he replied, his eyes showing clarity and conviction.

Rooney looked at Renly with a playful yet mischievous look, then bit her lower lip as if considering how to respond. Finally, she exhaled and smiled, "No, it's not a date, and honestly, Renly and I don't really suit each other. I can't deal with 'time nerds', and he doesn't like 'number nerds'. We're better off maintaining our friendship."

The reporters were stunned. They understood each word but couldn't make sense of the implications. What did "time nerds" and "number nerds" mean?

In that moment, Renly and Rooney didn't break eye contact. The subtle tension between them was palpable, and as their gazes clashed, Rooney smirked slightly, as if asking, Is this the answer you wanted?

Renly raised an eyebrow, his amusement evident, silently questioning, Do you care if I'm satisfied with the answer?

Rooney, sensing the playful challenge, bit her lip again, but her smile widened. She then gave Renly a look that could almost be described as 'threatening'. Was she about to settle the score?

The reporters, quick to catch the chemistry between them, couldn't help but press further. "Is this some sort of secret code between you two? Does this mean you're really dating?"

A reporter jokingly added, "Is this your coming-out moment?" The atmosphere shifted, and laughter erupted among the crowd, though the questioner felt slightly embarrassed for having overstepped.

The questions kept coming, as the reporters pushed for answers: "So, you're not dating?" "Why did you come to Lincoln Center together?" "Did you take a taxi together afterward? Are you living together now?"

The barrage of questions was relentless.

Renly and Rooney exchanged another glance, but this time, Rooney exaggerated a shrug, lifting her hands in mock helplessness. It was as though she was passing the buck to Renly, eager to avoid the weight of the hot potato.

Renly grinned, enjoying the playful banter. Then, turning to the reporters, he allowed them to finish their questions before replying, "I think we don't need to say any more. By now, you've probably already written your own version of the story, so feel free to start typing it up."

The reporters pressed on, still unsure whether they had gotten their answer. One shouted, "So, are you admitting it?"