The Greatest Showman #1518 - Water City Late Summer

Renly answered in detail, and Arthur nodded slightly.

As the conversation unfolded, the topic remained surface-level—nothing too deep, but it was enough for now.

Arthur paused for a moment, then spoke again. "As the opening film of Venice, publicity must be the focus. There's bound to be a celebrity party on the island. Can I handle organizing this?"

The question finally came out.

It was harder to ask than he had expected, but once spoken, it felt easier than anticipated. The brief appetizer time seemed to encapsulate the countless days and nights of internal turmoil and existential worry he'd experienced. Everything felt as if it had happened within minutes, but this moment had been a long time coming.

Arthur didn't know whether he was making the right choice, nor could he foresee the challenges that lay ahead. Yet, at this moment, he felt an undeniable sense of freedom, as if he were finally able to breathe deeply. Fear doesn't make life better—freedom does.

Before the smile could fully form on his face, Arthur became nervous. He worried Renly might refuse, that he might falter, or that Elf might be hurt. The anxiety about potential consequences surged in his chest.

"Okay," Renly replied.

Arthur froze, staring at Renly in surprise. The answer was quick and decisive, more so than he had expected.

Renly, seemingly uninterested in any further response, nodded again. "I said, alright."

Arthur felt a little embarrassed. He quickly lowered his gaze, attempting to conceal his nervousness, but only for a moment. Eventually, he gave up on hiding it, looking up at Renly once more and revealing his true feelings.

Then, Arthur considered Renly in front of him. Renly remained calm, his posture unchanged, though Arthur caught a hint of ease in his expression. Slowly, it dawned on him. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

Renly raised an eyebrow slightly, as though feigning ignorance of what Arthur was talking about. But Arthur, familiar with Renly's subtle expressions, knew he had guessed correctly. Shaking his head helplessly, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "The party before the official screening, and the one after the opening ceremony... leave them to me." His tone was not one of asking, but of command.

Arthur understood that the top-tier parties during such a film festival were highly significant. Usually, it would be the producer or someone in a position of real power who would manage such an event. Party planners were rare opportunities, and even as a producer, Renly likely didn't have the authority to handle it without negotiation.

Yet, Arthur had asked for this, perhaps out of a sense of mischief or to make Renly squirm, but he had no idea that Renly would simply agree.

Renly, with a light smile still on his face, closed his eyes slightly and nodded. "Okay."

Arthur felt a twinge of unease. Despite the simplicity of the answer, it made him uncertain. But after a moment, he nodded back, accepting Renly's response with a sense of satisfaction.

Elf had once said that Renly was selfish—focused only on himself, disregarding the reputation and glory of the family.

Elf had said that Renly was narcissistic, arrogant, and that he placed himself above the world, willing to sacrifice others. But was that really true?

Arthur felt a wave of confusion. He had been conditioned to believe that, but now he wondered—was Renly really the selfish one?

His gaze lingered on Renly for a long while, as if seeing him for the first time.

Renly eventually noticed, lifting his eyes with a questioning look. Arthur, breaking from his deep thought, offered a smile and shook his head. "I was just wondering if I should call Andy and ask for a guest list."

"You can look for Andre," Renly suggested, his smile widening. "He'll have a more complete list. He's working on Hollywood-related events right now. I think he's even been looking for a suitable party planner—maybe you could talk to him."

Just then, the main course was served.

Outside the window in London, the drizzle had stopped, and a shaft of golden sunlight pierced through the clouds. The somber mood quietly lifted, revealing a city brimming with youth and vitality.

London, with its mix of rain and sun, always made one yearn to wander.

...

August slipped quietly away, and the crisp sound of September echoed. The golden hues of autumn swept across the world. Meanwhile, Hollywood's annual awards season slowly began to stir. The summer excitement hadn't completely faded, but the film industry was already preparing for another busy season.

With the Venice and Toronto Film Festivals approaching, the industry buzzed with anticipation.

When Berlin was mentioned, thoughts of snow and seriousness came to mind. Cannes, on the other hand, evoked images of sparkling sun and glistening sea. But Venice?

Was it the gondolas gliding through the canals, the long oars swaying like a mother's arms? Or perhaps the carnival, where faces were hidden behind extravagant masks, offering a long-lost freedom?

Maybe it was the girly skirts fluttering in the sea breeze, the sun-kissed skin and flowing red skirts, melting the hearts of every passerby. Or perhaps the romance of moonlight reflected on the water, casting ripples that danced like a dream.

Venice was both enchanting and intimidating.

For Renly, Venice was always associated with the romance of walking through winding alleys. The moonlight fading on the sea, illuminating the fishermen who rose early to fish. The mist hung in the air, and the old, crumbling buildings stood as silent witnesses to a dreamlike world.

The laughter and sighs on the water told stories that no one else knew.

The Venice Film Festival, established in 1932, was the world's first and oldest film festival, earning it the title of the "Father of Film Festivals." Over the years, countless film masters emerged here, making Venice more iconic than both Berlin and Cannes.

Yet today, emotions surrounding the Venice Film Festival were a mix of love and disdain.

The love stemmed from Italy's enduring passion for cinema. Unlike the cold atmosphere of Berlin or the commercial focus of Cannes, Venice had always offered a welcoming embrace to movie lovers from around the world. It was a place where everyone could find a sense of belonging.

And of course, the beauty of Venice itself was a draw. It felt like a dream—a city floating on water, unchanged by time, just like the scenes in "Soulbroken Venice." Despite its faded grandeur, it possessed an indescribable charm.

The hate, however, came from Italy's obsession with their own national cinema. Every year, critics would question why Italian films seemed to be in decline. Venice, despite its openness to international films, was always entangled in this debate.

Moreover, the city's decaying infrastructure and high costs added to its discontent. Venice, built on water, was slowly being eaten away by the sea. The humidity and eroding buildings gave it a fragile, almost decayed atmosphere.

Despite all this, Renly still loved the city.

Not for the city itself, but for the memories it held—fragments of his youth hidden within the canals and mist, where the salty air and the warm sun seemed to hold timeless adventures.

The city was both wild and free, offering a fresh feeling, even in its sweat and imperfections.

Those lazy afternoons, the broken dreams, the fierce disappointments—everything left behind in Venice.