The Greatest Showman #1408 - Idealism

Edith absentmindedly twirled the champagne glass in her hand, quietly listening to the conversation around her. Yet, her attention had clearly wandered, her body still, but her mind adrift. There were no overt signs—no frantic gestures, no obvious expressions—but it was clear she was uneasy, restless. Her punk-inspired smoky makeup contrasted sharply with the vulnerability that peeked through, a side of her rarely seen.

A faint smile tugged at Renly's lips as he observed, "You think I should go easy on him?"

"Would you?" Matthew asked, without hesitation.

As they spoke, Chris appeared, walking toward them with a light step. "Hey! How are you feeling tonight?" he greeted, attempting to sound casual. Renly and Matthew merely nodded in acknowledgment, offering no more, leaving Chris suddenly aware of the awkward tension. The coldness of their response made him feel uneasy, as if he were a student called to the principal's office, and in an instant, he realized how unfavorable his position had become.

Worrying that standing while they sat might make him appear distant, Chris instead pulled a low sofa closer and plopped down across from them.

"You've heard I'm not exactly the friendliest guy, right?" Renly began, and the statement immediately made Chris squirm.

"No, of course not," Chris protested, waving his hands in denial, speaking the polite social pleasantries as expected. But Renly wasn't having it. Before Chris could continue, Renly cut him off, "I'm serious."

This threw Chris off balance, and he fell silent, unsure how to respond. Renly leaned in, his expression still light but his words teasing, "It's a bad sign when you're rendered speechless so quickly."

"I'm working on it! I—I'm working on it," Chris stammered, trying to gather himself. After a beat, he realized Renly's playful tone and began to feel even more uncomfortable.

Renly turned to Matthew, "Am I really that scary? He looks like a deer caught in headlights."

Matthew shrugged, an amused smirk on his face, "You haven't even gone full force yet."

"Full force?" Renly raised an eyebrow. "What, do you think I'm a fire-breathing dragon?"

Matthew smirked, unfazed, "No, more like Pikachu."

Renly rolled his eyes, "You're really into kids' cartoons now?"

Without missing a beat, Matthew gestured toward Chris, "He's about to explode. Are you sure this is fine? Will Edith come after you for this?"

Renly dismissed the concern, "It doesn't matter. Hollywood's full of guys like Chris, and they come and go. Edith will have plenty to choose from. To be honest, I think Chris Hemsworth would be a better fit for her anyway—same type."

"What type?" Matthew asked, intrigued.

Renly thought for a moment, then replied with a smirk, "Peach-flavored."

Matthew considered this, then shook his head. "No, they don't match. Let's try another Chris."

"Not good!" Chris finally spoke up, his voice loud and filled with frustration.

His nerves were shot. Renly and Matthew's rapid-fire exchanges left him no room to interject. The cold detachment they conveyed about Hollywood actors—treated like mere objects—chilled him to the bone. Their attitudes weren't just dismissive, but indifferent. There was a deep-seated arrogance, a class divide so vast it became palpable in their words.

Renly and Matthew were nobles in this game, and to them, Chris was just another piece in their chess match.

And Chris? He had yet to even make a move.

Renly glanced at Matthew, a silent acknowledgment passing between them before turning back to Chris. "So, why do you think you're the right one for Edith?"

Chris, though visibly flustered, straightened up, forcing out the words. "Because... because I love her," he said, almost desperately.

Renly raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but laced with irony, "You should know, love is the humblest thing when compared to profit and glory."

Chris, his cheeks flushed with frustration, shot back, "But it's also the greatest thing."

Matthew, still nonchalant, chimed in, "Seems like in Hollywood's Vanity Fair, I've found something different—lines, for instance."

Chris' face turned crimson, and he began coughing uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the conversation and its implications.

Renly, sensing that he'd pushed Chris far enough, eased the tension with a smile. "Let's not forget, tonight's hero is me. Don't let the focus slip," he joked, lightening the mood. But Chris' awkward smile remained, unable to mask his discomfort.

"By the way," Renly added, changing the topic smoothly, "I heard DC has made a move. Any plans from Marvel to counteract? Haven't seen much media about you lately."

Chris, still lost in his thoughts, responded absently, "I don't know. I don't think we have any plans for now."

Renly raised an eyebrow, "Don't pretend you've been following Marvel news—you never read it."

The interruption came from Edith, who had evidently had enough of the conversation. "I don't think that's true," she said, her voice firm.

Both Renly and Matthew exchanged quick, telling glances, their faces betraying a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Edith, now fully aware of the situation, eyed both men with a look that suggested, Don't push it. Chris, oblivious to the tension, rushed to her side, placing himself behind her with a concerned expression. "Why are you here? Let me handle this. I'm fine," he said, trying to reassure her.

Edith simply shook her head. "I thought you were finished with all this."

Realization dawned on her as she observed Chris' expression—Renly's jovial tone had masked the real test, and Chris had failed it. He hadn't passed the unspoken trial Renly had set.

But Edith remained composed, offering a polite smile. "Don't worry. Renly and Matthew aren't outsiders."

Then, with a quick look at Renly and Matthew, she heard Renly's voice, dripping with mock sincerity, "You should know, we could hear every word you just whispered, right?"

Renly had done it on purpose. And now, Edith couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment.