The Greatest Showman #1404 – Not a Hero

"Stand By Me."

"Ok."

Renly stared at the two text messages on his phone, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It grew slowly, tinged with a bittersweet warmth that stirred something deep inside him.

"Walk With Me"—the title of the film—tells the story of a group of twelve-year-olds who embark on a journey down the railroad, searching for the body of another child. It's a tale of growth, friendship, and the fleeting moments of youth.

There's a line from the movie that sticks with him:

"Even though I haven't seen him for ten years, I know I'll miss him forever. I've never made friends as good as the ones I did when I was twelve. Maybe everyone does?"

Renly was fortunate enough to meet Matthew.

In March of the previous year, after visiting a sleeping Heather Cross in New Jersey, Renly ran into Matthew. During their conversation, he brought up the film, which had taken on a new significance for him. Later, on the night of the EGOT miracle, he looked around and found that same person again.

Is there such a friend in the world—someone who knows you better than you know yourself? Someone who remains steadfast, even when the whole world seems to be moving in the opposite direction? They're not a lover or a relative; they keep a distance that's neither too close nor too far. But no matter how much time passes, they never leave, and you always find them when you turn back.

Renly closed his palms gently, holding his slightly warm phone. His eyes drifted down to the Tony Award trophy in his left hand. He let his shoulders relax, a sense of relief washing over him.

He glanced back at Radio City Music Hall, the smile on his lips now mingled with a calm joy. The music of a light-hearted melody played softly in his mind, marking the quiet peace that had finally found him.

"Let me go."

The words echoed in his mind, a brand-new melody unfolding. The brisk guitar strings danced like a lively river under the sun, with the rhythm of jazz drums and bass hinting at their presence beneath the surface. The bitterness of the moment and the weight of his shoulders seemed to fade away, replaced by the freedom of the music, soaring in the night wind.

"I don't want to be your hero, I don't want to be big, I just want to live like a normal person. I don't want to be part of that show-off masquerade."

Renly Hall doesn't want to make history, doesn't seek to be a shining moment in it. He's just an actor, one who chases his dreams earnestly, living freely, and celebrating life without worrying about fame or legacy.

He's not a framed photograph or a hashtag on social media. He doesn't intend to be anyone's hero—he doesn't have the capacity to bear such a weight.

"Everyone deserves the opportunity to grow on their own. Have a steady job, maybe buy some new strings, maybe take a weekend trip together. We can talk about America and the secrets of dreams. Babies need protection, but I'm just a child like everyone else."

This is his life—one that moves at its own pace, not driven by awards, box offices, or history, but by the pursuit of dreams.

People see the glory, but few see the relentless practice behind his performance in Boom Drummer; the struggles that no one knows about, the moments of sinking and fighting during rehearsals. Everyone sees the achievements recorded in history, but they miss the pain and hardship that paved the way.

EGOT?

Of course, he accepted it. He thanked it calmly and sincerely. But after the EGOT, he didn't want to be another jewel in a crown at some extravagant masquerade.

He just wanted to relax with friends, drink beer on the windowsill, flip through a novel, share a laugh, and talk about life. He needed a space to whisper about dreams, free from the weight of expectations.

He missed Heather so much.

"So, let me go. I don't want to be your hero, I don't want to be big, I just want to live like a normal person."

A gust of wind swept across his face, cold and biting, sending a shiver down his spine. The melody took on a bittersweet edge, reminding him that after all the trials, he was just an ordinary person—nervous, excited, fearful, and sometimes sad.

"Renly, you did it," he imagined Heather's voice, full of laughter and joy, teasing him. "But... what about the next project? What about the album you promised me? And the drum kit I'm learning? I can't wait to hear it!"

That was the real him—living passionately, working without regard for money, loving without fear of pain. And acting like it was always the first time.

Renly wasn't a hero, and he didn't want to be one.

His eyes filled with warmth once again, and he closed them, letting the emotions ebb away. The night was a whirlwind of highs and lows, but he kept his focus—his mind resonated with the surging melody of life, singing quietly, as though no one was listening.

"So, let me go. I don't want to be your hero, I don't want to be big, I just want to live like a normal person. I don't want to be part of that show-off masquerade. Everyone should have the opportunity to grow on your own."

He exhaled deeply, opened his eyes, and looked back at Radio City Music Hall. His gaze fell on the Tony Award trophy in his hand again.

It was a globe-shaped trophy, light yet heavier than expected. Under the moonlight, a soft matte halo surrounded it, glowing faintly in the streetlights. It was his medal, but in the end, it represented his work, his dreams, his effort. Luck or fate, it had finally arrived, a vibrant feather that decorated the wings of his journey.

But Renly didn't stop.

As he said before the ceremony, he's an actor, and his work should be his medal. That's been the case in the past, and it will remain the same in the future. His focus should be on his work, leaving aside the glory for a moment, and continuing to pour his efforts into becoming a better actor. The award was just the cherry on top.

As another day dawned, Renly knew that his status as an actor would never change.

He held the trophy tightly, feeling its weight as a reminder to work harder, to be more committed, and to keep pushing forward in his craft. EGOT wasn't the end—it was just the beginning.

Renly knew that the "EGOT Curse" was real. Now that he stood at the peak, the pressure to stay there was immense. Everyone would be watching, wondering what he would do next. Would he soar higher or stumble?

But Renly knew that he didn't need to change.

He was still the actor with a dream. He was still passionate about roles, dedicated to them, and sometimes even lost in them.

Without hesitation, Renly stepped forward, leaving behind the glitz and noise of the Vanity Fair. He was eager to get back to the practice room, to focus on Boom Drummer, a challenging task that he was ready to take on. He didn't mind walking this path alone. After all, he had always walked it alone, and now he was just returning to where it all began.

He didn't call Nathan, instead choosing to run down the streets, fueled by energy and excitement. It was a distance most would never attempt, but Renly did it without hesitation, running toward Greenwich Village.

After his lungs burned and his shirt was soaked in sweat, Renly stopped a taxi and headed home.

"Oh, Nathan, I'm home... I just went for a walk, got some fresh air... so you can leave work early tonight, right? What's wrong? Why do you sound so nervous?"

Renly opened the door to his apartment and heard the familiar bang and boom.