Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 310: Seriously

Chapter 310: Seriously

Observing the orderly and tidy room, Renly was satisfied and lifted his chin slightly. It was fortunate that Matthew helped with the organization; otherwise, he wouldn't have known where to start. "I'm about to play Santa Claus. How about you? Interested in being Rudolph?"

There was no formal thanks, no further inquiries, no unnecessary small talk. Everything felt so familiar.

A subtle smile crossed Matthew's eyes. Time and distance seemed to have changed nothing: London, New York, Barcelona, and back to London, New York... Renly was still Renly. The marks left by the years were hardly noticeable, and the deep impression from their first childhood meeting still lingered vividly.

"Sure," Matthew agreed quickly. "Plus, we can stop by the supermarket on the way back. Your fridge could really use some restocking—I bet it's feeling quite lonely right now."

"Supermarket shopping?" Renly frowned slightly. "But I've still got work to do later, and I won't be staying home for long. Is it even necessary? If we buy stuff, it'll just sit there gathering dust..."

Matthew didn't need to look at Renly's face to know what he meant. Grocery shopping was another of Renly's weak spots. Every time he went to buy daily supplies, he'd inevitably forget something, forcing him to go back multiple times. Curiously, Renly loved supermarkets, treating them like libraries, but he always came back empty-handed.

"Don't worry, I'll handle the shopping. You just take care of carrying things," Matthew reassured him.

Renly's frown quickly relaxed. He pursed his lips and nodded, looking somewhat reluctant. "Driving and carrying things—I'm fine with that. Maybe we can buy some snacks and whiskey glasses. Last time I wanted a drink, I couldn't find a single glass. Oh, and let's grab a humidifier too—I lost mine when we moved."

The sound of the door closing echoed in the stairwell as Matthew put the key back above the doorframe and followed Renly downstairs.

Renly and Matthew spent the entire afternoon at Mount Sinai Hospital. The next day would be New Year's Eve, and New York's celebrations were as grand and lavish as ever, renowned across the world. Mount Sinai was also brightly decorated, ready to welcome the new year.

Though Christmas had passed days ago, Renly still brought gifts to the children in the hospital. The presents weren't anything expensive—just small items he'd collected during his filming and travels, each one carrying a unique cultural or personal significance.

This time, all the gifts came from South America and Hawaii, featuring bold and vibrant styles—raw, rugged, handmade, colorful, and simple. After opening their gifts, the children eagerly asked Renly about the stories behind them, and he gladly shared tales from his past four months of adventures.

Time seemed to become irrelevant.

Heather stared at the bracelet in her hand. It was a colorful, woven piece, a mix of leather and string interwoven with shades of red, blue, yellow, black, gray, and brown. The textures felt magical, as if a piece of the rainbow had been crafted into this delicate band.

"This was a gift from a wandering artist in a Rio de Janeiro favela. He created it after being inspired by leaving Paradise Falls. He felt that it was both the end of the world and the beginning of life. He dreams of returning there, but until then, he continues to wander. In return, I wrote him a song."

"What song?"

"'Old Pine.'"

After Renly and Matthew left, Heather fumbled with the bracelet, trying to put it on. It wasn't an easy task, but this time, she didn't give up. After thirteen tries, she finally managed to tie it on by herself.

Her skin, pale from a long absence of sunlight, made the blue veins beneath almost visible. But the rainbow-colored bracelet rested against her wrist, its vibrant colors gently spreading, bringing a hint of life to her delicate skin.

Watching the bracelet quietly, a smile crept across her face.

By the time Renly and Matthew returned to the apartment, night had fallen. Winter in New York was merciless—the wind howled, and the cold bit at their bones. The city seemed to be cloaked in a thin layer of frost, an icy indifference hanging over everything as the night crept in.

Renly carried the heavy shopping bags toward the kitchen. "Are you sure this isn't too much? I'm serious—I might have to leave for work again next week."

Matthew, who was a couple of steps behind, noticed an unfamiliar figure sitting in the living room and cast a cautious glance at him.

The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, though his round, fair face made him seem older. He wore a gray shirt and black suit, his tie neatly in place, though his slightly protruding belly made the shirt seem tight. His face wore a kind smile, the kind that might make one lower their guard.

But not for Matthew. He could see that the man's eyes, narrowed into slits, held little warmth. He looked like a calculating businessman or a Wall Street professional.

Despite Matthew's wariness, the man remained calm, nodding politely.

Then Matthew noticed the young man sitting diagonally across from the older gentleman. He looked around the same age as Matthew and Renly.

The young man wore a gray, cable-knit sweater and tattered jeans with ripped patches. Oddly, his shoes were formal black brogues, clashing with his otherwise punk-inspired street look. His head was topped with a wild, curly hairstyle, completing the ensemble.

With just one glance, his youthful yet slightly naive face left a strong impression.

"Eaton Dormo?" Matthew's expression remained steady, though his slightly raised tone hinted at confusion.

The young man seemed surprised too, but his reaction was more expressive. His eyes widened in shock. "Matthew Dunlop? Aren't you in London applying to be a Queen's Counsel?"

"You two know each other?" The plump man in the middle interrupted their exchange, his eyes shifting back and forth between them with amusement.

Renly, who had just closed the fridge, turned around. "Hey, Andy, what are you doing here at this time? Why didn't you call ahead?"

Andy Rogers, the unexpected guest in the middle, was Renly's agent.

Andy sighed in exasperation. "I called you five times, but you didn't pick up." He pointed toward Renly's phone on the table. Renly simply shrugged, his usual carefree self. Andy could only sigh again. "Where's Nathan?"

"I told him to head back. He's looking for an apartment since he'll be staying in New York for a while." Renly walked into the living room and noticed the other figure. "Eaton? Are you here on business or with Charles?"

Charles Dormo was a senior partner at the law firm Matthew had just joined, and Eaton was his younger brother.

The Dormo family wasn't of noble blood—they were tailors, one of the first to open a shop on Savile Row, the pinnacle of bespoke fashion. Over generations, they'd earned a close relationship with the British royal family. Charles' grandfather had been awarded a Commander of the Order of the British Empire, earning him the title of "Sir."

Eaton, Renly, and Matthew had attended elementary and middle school together, but their paths diverged in college. Renly and Matthew went to Cambridge, while Eaton studied at London College of Fashion.

Aside from Charles, Eaton had one older brother and two sisters, but only Eaton had inherited the family's design talent. It was widely expected that the Dormo family's bespoke fashion legacy would pass to him.

"Is Charles in New York?" Eaton seemed surprised, clearly unaware, but then he laughed. "No, I'm here to expand the bespoke market. I think I've found the perfect partner and didn't want to miss the chance."

Before Renly could respond, Andy stood up, offering a brief explanation. "Eaton's an up-and-coming stylist in London. He's here to propose designing your outfit for the Golden Globes. But I see you already know each other?"

Renly raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You've become a stylist? What about your family's store?" Savile Row shops were steeped in tradition, passed down through generations with the same rigor as nobility.

Andy chuckled, looking at Renly helplessly. "Renly, shouldn't you introduce us first? That seems like the priority here."