Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 32: Back to the usual

Chapter 32: Back to the usual

In the midst of the night, New York always has a special charm, as if scenes of the Charleston dance from the 1930s were being performed on a 21st-century Broadway stage. Amidst the modern landscape, there blooms a decadent quality, even though one knows it's a dark place, a swamp of fame and fortune. Yet, people can't bear to leave, letting themselves go, staying a while longer, and then a bit longer.

In the crossroads of the streets, a grumbling vagrant curses, decrying the Obama administration's healthcare system. Nearby, men and women waiting for the traffic light laugh and joke, their thin straps and sensual stockings flowing in the chilly wind of March. Not far away, a woman leans against a Cadillac in a parking spot, violently vomiting, as if she's trying to empty her insides, while her companions discuss where to party next. On the sidewalks, white-collar workers, just done with their day's work, hurry through the bustling yet desolate streets...

It's been a long time, indeed. Returning from the southern hemisphere of Australia to the northern hemisphere of North America, the scenes in sight seem to transition from heaven to hell in an instant. Even Melbourne and Sydney couldn't find a moment of resemblance. This made Renly somewhat unfamiliar, yet somewhat familiar.

Not far away, the low-key lemon-yellow neon lights of the Pioneer Village are engulfed in the colorful hues nearby. The deep brown wooden gates exude a weathered and ancient charm. In the display window, yellowed newspapers still tell the "news" of the 1920s, seemingly out of place with the atmosphere of New York but strangely blending with Greenwich Village. This is why old New Yorkers like Woody Allen are always fond of this area.

Unexpectedly, Renly's footsteps couldn't help but quicken. Although he had only lived in this city for three months, he could smell home. Could it be because the gloomy weather here reminded him of the incessant rain of London?

Pushing open the creaking heavy wooden door, a reception room separated by a red curtain appeared before him, warm air rushing towards him. "Good evening, welcome to the Pioneer Village," greeted the receptionist Janice Black with her familiar gravelly voice.

"Good evening, any vacancies?" Renly smiled, and Andy, a regular customer standing nearby, looked surprised, about to speak, but Renly put a finger to his lips, making a "shh" gesture.

Unfortunately, Renly's trick didn't last long. Janice looked up and then showed a big surprise. "Hey, buddy! You're back!" Janice, fifty-five years old, with a very plump figure, the typical pear-shaped body of middle-aged American women, always preferred to sit behind the reception desk if possible. But now she stepped out happily, giving Renly a big hug. "Jesus Christ, you look like a bumpkin from Australia."

That hearty banter made Renly burst into laughter, and Janice patted Renly's back heavily. "How long have you been away? I'm starting to lose track of time."

"That's not the point. The point is I'm back now, isn't it?" Renly's words made Janice nod in satisfaction. In fact, Renly had only worked here for three months, but he had been away for over seven months. Nevertheless, he could still vividly feel the profound imprint he left in this bar, as if he had never left.

Pulling back the red curtain, Renly entered the bar again. Today was Wednesday, and the bar was about half full. A female singer sat on a high stool on the stage, humming the melancholic tones of jazz. "Hey, Renly, you're back." "Big actor, you finally showed up. I almost thought you disappeared." "Good Lord, the Aussie aborigine actually came back."... As the regulars sitting in their places enjoyed the music, they greeted Renly one after another. Seven months of time gradually shortened under their footsteps until it disappeared.

When Renly arrived at the bar counter, Neil Thompson raised a glass of tequila high and slammed it down on the table, the transparent alcohol splashing down, reflecting the intoxicating colors of the bar. "Welcome back! So, dare to take the challenge? Haven't you become as dull and boring as them after half a year in Australia?"

Renly didn't answer but raised his glass, lifting it high, then turned around and gestured a circle towards the bar. The regulars raised their glasses in response, while the unfamiliar guests watched eagerly. The free and friendly atmosphere of the Pioneer Village was vividly demonstrated at this moment. Then Renly put the glass to his lips, drained it in one gulp, and then turned the glass upside down on the counter, decisive and neat.

"Well done!" Cheers erupted from the side, and everyone raised their glasses of alcohol. The jazz singer on the stage couldn't help but look towards the bar, witnessing this unexpected scene.

"So, how's Steven Spielberg?" Neil inquired eagerly, without any barriers or special greetings, as if they were still chatting behind the bar last night.

Renly shrugged, "A scoundrel?" His frank words made Neil nod seriously, agreeing, "I knew it."

Of course, it was a joke. Like Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg stayed on the set in Australia for about a month and a half, discussing with executive producers, directors, writers, and cameramen almost every day, ensuring the shooting of the series was on the right track from a macro perspective. Even when they visited the set, they were still behind the monitors, fully focused on their work.

As an actor, Renly had very limited opportunities to interact with Steven and Tom, who were producers. This gave Renly a preliminary understanding of the positions of producers, directors, and actors.

While they were talking, a customer nearby came over and ordered eight beers. Neil immediately opened the nearby tap, pouring beer one after another and placing them on the bar table. He raised his chin and looked at Renly, "What are you waiting for? Take them over to the customers." That look, exactly the same as seven months ago, hadn't changed at all.

Renly put his backpack on the counter—he had just gotten off the plane and hadn't gone home, so he came straight to the bar. "Idiot, when did you see me carrying four beers at a time? I'm not a little girl." Without any jet lag, Renly returned to his original state.

After all eight beers were ready, Renly moved his fingers, then spread out his long fingers, holding all four beers firmly, and raised them high as he turned around, "Alcohol alert, alcohol alert." He shouted while quickly walking over.

After delivering the beers, Renly greeted the other waiters in the bar and returned to the counter. From a distance, he saw Stanley's smiling face, full of fatherly warmth, standing there, waiting for the prodigal son's return. Renly hurried over and bumped Stanley's shoulder, "Old buddy, I'm here today for an interview. Do you need more waiters here?"

"The Pacific" filming had ended, and the remuneration was gradually arriving. But Renly knew that this payment was just startup capital. To cope with the upcoming publicity period, it was a huge expenditure and also an investment in the future. So, before finding the next job, he needed to return to his previous life. Some things had changed, some hadn't.

"You're hired!" Stanley shook his sweet and thin finger, smiling.

Renly also couldn't help but smile. Although he had a good relationship with Stanley, the Pioneer Village wasn't a charity organization. After being away for seven months, things must have changed. Unexpectedly, today was just a reunion, yet Renly felt the same familiarity and warmth as always.

Wasn't this kind of life ten times, a hundred times more exciting than a strict schedule planned to the minute?

"Oh, by the way." Renly remembered something important. "Neil, give me my backpack." After receiving the backpack from Neil's hand, Renly took out a bunch of leather braided bracelets from inside and placed them on the bar counter. "These are the bracelets I learned to weave with the Australian aborigines." Renly shook his right wrist, which was adorned with a bunch of blue and red bracelets. "Each one has a different meaning." Renly picked one and handed it to Stanley. "This one is for wishing good health."

Stanley took it. "Ah, you make me look like one of those stallions running on the beach with surfboards." The banter made Renly burst into laughter.

Neil was even less polite, picking out four or five and tying them to his wrist directly. "Wow, are you using this method to deceive those naive young girls?"

"You know, even without these, I can easily find a partner." Renly's confident answer made Neil choke, then he rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the guy with the extremely bright smile in front of him. "Stanley, you don't need to wear it. This is just a blessing. They don't match your suit. Hang it on the mirror of your dressing table at home, that's enough."

Stanley still tied the bracelets, patting Renly's chest with a smile. "I really like this gift. I'm sixty-five years old, and some blessings are very important to me." This made Renly and Neil laugh, but Stanley continued, "But you know, I prefer another gift than this."

Renly was puzzled, then saw Stanley's gaze directed towards the stage. The jazz singer had just finished her performance. "That was the last performance tonight, but I think tonight is a good time for an encore."

Renly smiled and spread his hands helplessly, "So, does my employment start from tonight?"