The Greatest Showman #1398 - Chasing After
He knew Renly had deliberately shifted the attention away, giving him a path to escape the throng of reporters. Of course, the media would have surrounded Renly regardless, but the ease with which he handled the situation made it clear—Renly had done it for him. A quiet sense of gratitude lightened Stark's steps.
"Renly, if you win tonight, you'll be the youngest EGOT in history—not just the first under thirty, but the first under forty as well. What are your thoughts on that?"
In 2018, Robert Lopez held the record as the youngest EGOT winner, completing the prestigious Grand Slam at the age of 38. His final win was an Oscar for Best Original Song, awarded on March 2, 2014, for the Frozen theme song.
Tonight, however, was June 9, 2013. Frozen had yet to be released, and Lopez was still one Oscar away from his EGOT. All eyes were now on Renly.
Before this night, the youngest EGOT recipient had been Rita Moreno at age 46—a record that had stood for years. John Gielgud had been the oldest, achieving his EGOT at 87, while Helen Hayes took the longest route, spanning an astonishing 45 years between her first and last awards.
And now, at just twenty-three, Renly Hall stood on the verge of rewriting history.
The sheer disparity in numbers was staggering—Renly was barely half Rita's age when she had achieved her EGOT, and the gap between him and John Gielgud was generational. The possibility of him accomplishing in three years what had taken Helen Hayes 45 was nothing short of mind-boggling.
Words felt inadequate.
Not just for the reporters, but even for Renly himself.
He wouldn't pretend he hadn't thought about it, but the idea felt too surreal, too grandiose. He genuinely didn't believe he would win tonight. If anything, he was prepared to wait. At twenty-three, he had time.
Andy, Nathan, and Roy, however, were far less composed, barely containing their excitement. His friends—Paul Walker, Ryan Gosling, Rooney Mara, Steven Spielberg, and the Coen brothers—seemed equally anxious, anticipation and nervousness etched across their faces. Even Edith, usually a pillar of calm, had sent him three completely incoherent text messages that day.
So, when faced with the restless press, Renly understood their energy. And, in turn, he displayed an unusual level of patience.
"Sorry, I don't answer hypothetical questions," Renly quipped, his humor effortlessly disarming. "I'd rather not give you material for future 'I told you so's.'"
Laughter rippled through the reporters.
"Do you want to win?"
"Of course." He didn't hesitate. The honesty in his response was refreshing. He shrugged with a small smile. "But I don't think tonight belongs to me."
"Did you ever expect to reach this level?"
Renly raised an eyebrow. "Honestly? No." He paused before adding, "Although, that may sound arrogant. The truth is, I was never a genius."
A chorus of groans and protests erupted from the crowd.
"Oh, come on, Renly! By your definition, who is a genius?" someone called out.
Renly's smile widened. "Daniel Day-Lewis. Katharine Hepburn. Jodie Foster. Marlon Brando. I could go on, but I suspect you didn't come here for a lecture on film history."
"But you've already achieved more than some of those names at this age!"
"Ha! I wouldn't say that." He chuckled. "Success is subjective. Awards require talent—and luck. But great works? Those stand the test of time. My career hasn't yet reached that level. I still have a long way to go."
"What's next?"
"Well," Renly said, his tone light, "I'm just a hardworking actor who happened to be in the right place at the right time."
"You're not leaving room for other actors, are you?" a reporter teased.
With a mock-serious expression, Renly deadpanned, "That's the plan."
Silence. Then another burst of laughter. The press corps knew they were hopelessly outmatched in this verbal duel.
"What does EGOT mean to you?"
Renly tilted his head slightly before answering, "It's an incredible honor, but it doesn't define an artist. I believe the work itself should be the measure of one's career."
"So, winning for Les Misérables would mean more than the award itself?"
"Exactly."
"Some speculate that your return to the West End last year was all part of a grand strategy to win EGOT. Any truth to that?"
Renly smirked. "Now that you mention it, I'm starting to wonder myself. But whether my 'plan' was successful, we'll only find out at the end of the night, won't we?"
Even the other guests on the red carpet couldn't help but glance over, captivated by his effortless wit.
"And choosing Whiplash next—does that mean you're eyeing next year's awards season?"
Renly's lips twitched. "Wish me luck."
No denials. No long-winded explanations. Just a playful retort that left the reporters floundering. It was almost as if their endless cycle of questioning had become its own form of entertainment.
Finally, one of them threw up their hands. "Renly, if you win tonight, what will you think?" A pause. "Just hypothetically speaking."
Even they were laughing at their own persistence now.
Renly's grin widened. "At the very least, I won't be sad or disappointed."
With that, he nodded politely and strode toward the theater.
The press surged forward, desperate to call him back, but Renly gave them no chance. He disappeared into the grand hall, leaving only his back to the flashing cameras.
Inside, all eyes turned to him.
Not just the reporters—
The entire theater and film industry.
Renly exhaled slowly, nerves creeping in for just a moment. Then he smiled and stepped forward, ready to face history.