The Greatest Showman – Chapter 1419: Heart of Stone

Melissa forced herself to cheer up, a task far from easy. But she had no choice. She had made a mistake—one she couldn't undo. Though she still didn't understand how Renly saw through everything, what mattered now was that it was over. She was cornered, and her body was starting to pulse with survival instinct.

Renly had rejected John's proposal. She still hadn't been fired from the cast.

This was good news.

A spark of hope lit up Melissa's eyes. Renly had not torn them apart; instead, he had been tolerant and generous. Could this mean that Renly was willing to let go of the past? What could she do to leave a positive impression?

"Sorry," Melissa said softly, showing her most genuine face. The panic and fear in her eyes weren't fake, but she kept her posture low, almost like an ant begging for forgiveness. She knew the upper echelons liked this kind of submission—the feeling of holding someone's life in their hands.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Renly's expression. No change—this was good news. It meant she was on the right track.

"I know this was wrong, but it was all my agent's idea," Melissa continued, her voice trembling slightly. "She said this is how Hollywood works." She didn't cry, but her words were choked with emotion—weak, yet persistent in a way that conveyed her resolve. She knew how to appeal to a man.

"She told me such opportunities are rare, and I had to take them. I refused, but she didn't give me many choices." Melissa hesitated, trying to shift the blame as much as possible onto her agent. This wasn't uncommon in Hollywood. In fact, actors and agents often worked this way.

But Melissa was clever. She didn't condemn her agent outright. Instead, she took the blame upon herself. "I know, I know... In the end, it was my choice. I went along with it, and that's my fault. I shouldn't have agreed to this. I shouldn't have done it."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." She repeated, covering her face with her hands, letting her tears flow. She didn't ask for anything; she only begged for mercy. At this moment, she understood that the only thing that mattered was the apology. Any request would only annoy Renly further.

Renly stood by, silent.

What unfolded before him felt like a mime—a strange, absurd performance showcasing the most vulgar side of Hollywood's Vanity Fair.

This wasn't Renly's first time encountering such a situation. At the crossroads of Vanity Fair, people often made different choices based on their values, and no one could say what was right or wrong. It all led to the same outcome in different ways. Condemning someone for their choice was futile—it was simply a matter of different approaches.

But Melissa had chosen the most crass path, like a low-budget soap opera or a melodramatic high school play. Everything was exaggerated, yet beneath it all was an air of vulgarity and boredom.

This strategy would never get her far in Vanity Fair. But perhaps that was because Melissa had never been exposed to higher circles; this was the best method she knew, and that wasn't entirely her fault.

People often said character determined fate, and vision determined life.

Objectively, Melissa was smart—she knew how to seize opportunities, assess risks, and weigh the pros and cons. Her quick decision-making in a crisis was impressive. But it was a far cry from the naïve, sweet woman he had met at Lincoln Center.

Melissa lifted her gaze through her fingers, catching a glimpse of Renly. His face remained calm. She felt confused.

This wasn't normal.

So Melissa decided to take the initiative.

"Renly, I'm sorry. I sincerely apologize. I swear, there won't be a next time. I know I was wrong. Please forgive me," she said urgently, stepping forward in an attempt to take his hand.

Renly calmly pulled away, evading her touch. Melissa froze, tears streaming down her face. "You still won't forgive me, right? I know I was wrong. What can I do to make it up to you? I'll do anything, really. I promise, there won't be a next time."

"I know," Renly said quietly. His tone was calm, unwavering in contrast to her dramatic outburst. The extreme difference in tone created an absurd and almost comical gap.

Melissa stood still, stunned, tears hanging from her lashes.

Renly was still the gentleman in front of the media, but the warmth had left his eyes. "This is the last time," he added, his voice cold.

The last time.

Suddenly, Melissa understood what that meant. It hit her like a punch to the gut. Her body shook uncontrollably, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, unable to speak. She couldn't believe Renly had said something so cruel so casually.

"It's not fair," Melissa blurted, anger surging.

She shook her head, still refusing to believe her ears. "I've apologized! Why isn't that enough? Even criminals can be redeemed, but why can't I be? Why?"

"Because there's no sincerity in your eyes," Renly said, his voice gentle yet firm. "You know, there are two kinds of apologies: the sincere one, and the calculated one." After a brief pause, he added, shaking his head. "I don't care for the latter."

Renly had given Melissa many chances—since that night at Lincoln Center, he had left room for her to redeem herself. But she had missed every opportunity, even now, still calculating and scheming. The truth was, she wasn't as clever as she thought.

On top of that, Renly had to admit, Melissa was unlucky. She had crossed him at the wrong time. After the fallout with Egot, his mood had been volatile, and even though he had calmed down somewhat after the best friend's party, the ever-present spotlight had exacerbated his irritation. It made his response harsher than it might have been otherwise.

If it had been before, Renly might have laughed it off. But today, he didn't have the patience for it.

"It's not fair! Everyone is calculating, everyone!" Melissa screamed, her face twisted in rage.

"Yes, it's not fair," Renly agreed, his tone perfectly even.

Melissa choked, the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. Her tears still clung to her lashes, and she was completely stunned.

Renly continued, "Everyone has a choice. When you chose to break the ice and seize the opportunity this way, you forfeited the chance to be treated as an equal. I'm not a judge, but neither am I Jesus."

"...But everyone does it," Melissa stammered, trying to defend herself.

"Yes, and that's why you have to face the consequences," Renly replied calmly. He immediately realized his tone had become too authoritative, and adjusted. After a brief pause, he added, "My advice? Since you chose this path, stick with it. Don't hide behind morality. It only makes you more miserable."

Renly admired those like Natalie Portman, Jennifer Lawrence, and Chris Hemsworth—people who stuck to their choices with no hesitation. He didn't agree with them, but at least they had a clear attitude. Unlike Melissa, who only made herself more miserable by clinging to false hope.

Renly didn't want to linger. There was no point in discussing it further. The matter was settled. He turned to leave, but then paused, looking back at the despondent Melissa.

"Finish your work," he said.

Melissa looked up in confusion.

Renly elaborated, "You asked earlier, 'What should I do?' Well, you should do your job. If I were filming today in your state, I'd be worried about the performance."

Melissa watched as Renly walked away, not taking a taxi, but using a skateboard. Only then did she notice the skateboard in his hand, something she had missed before.

As the realization sank in, humiliation and pain began to overwhelm her, like a slap to the face. The burning shame spread slowly, making her body tremble.

Renly had always been seen as a gentleman—gracious, composed, and charming. But now, Melissa saw him for what he truly was: cold-blooded and cruel, his gentleness a thin mask hiding a demon beneath. And she had provoked this demon.

She shuddered at the thought of what the future held.