Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 87: Monster of Fame and Fortune

Chapter 87: Monster of Fame and Fortune

Under the tangerine sky, beneath the azure butterfly kite, unfurling its wings, soaring freely, its long tail rustling in the wind, as if one could distinctly hear the exhilaration and abandon whistling past.

Renly's eyes couldn't help but sparkle slightly as he followed the kite string downward.

A middle-aged man encircled a young girl with his hands, his right hand gripping the kite string, controlling the rhythm while carefully protecting the girl; the girl stood on the grass with her feet, holding the kite reel, lifting her pointed chin, watching the kite soaring higher and higher in the sky, a smile slowly blossoming at the corners of her mouth, even the sunset paled in comparison.

Not far away, a middle-aged woman clasped her hands in front of her chest, watching the scene before her without turning away, a happy smile on her lips, but her gaze remained fixed, unconsciously playing with the pendant necklace in her right hand, betraying the tension in her heart.

That was Heather, along with her father and her mother.

Unconsciously, a smile crept onto Renly's lips, laughing freely. Although Renly had left the kite behind in anticipation of this moment, seeing Heather leave the sickbed, standing on her feet again, the joy surged uncontrollably.

Packing up the guitar, Renly walked to the nearby bench, sat down, and quietly watched the skyline made up of skyscrapers, admiring the sunset unique to New York.

The sky was burning with the setting sun, the colors vibrant to the extreme, as if releasing the final Chapter of vitality, unabashedly extravagant. At the end of the line of sight, in an instant, the tangerine hues dimmed, and the indigo night descended like a waterfall, swiftly engulfing every hue beneath the sky. Before one could blink, even the indigo lost its radiance, and the world plunged into darkness.

Everything happened so quickly, too quickly for anyone to react.

"Click," the first street lamp lit up, followed by a series of sounds, and all the lights of the city brightened up like a receding tide, swiftly dissipating the darkness. The amber halo connected, forming a canopy of air, isolating the human world from the natural darkness, tranquility and noise, serenity and clamor, the contradictory dualities blurred at the edge of the halo.

Quietly watching the brilliant night scene before him, the whistling wind seemed to grow louder, yet also more serene, as the melody flowed from the guitar strings at his fingertips.

[??Mumford and Sons - Monster??]

??So we were up

Throwin' dice in the dark

I saw you late, last night, come to harm

I saw you dance in the devil's arms??

The serene melody seemed to vanish into the night, only lightly touching the heartstrings, playing out the murmurs of the soul. The path to chasing dreams is one of tumult in the darkness, the myriad lights at the end of the line filled with unknowns. No one knows which path is correct, nor which destination holds the true essence. Even with bruises and scars, the effort may not necessarily yield rewards. Hence, some choose to sell their souls, dancing in the embrace of demons for the most wondrous steps.

There's a poignant feeling of uncertainty, unable to discern what's right from wrong.

??The night kept coming

Really nothing I could do

Eyes with a fire, unquenched by peace

Curse the beauty, curse the queen??

Should they give up now? Surrender their dreams, return to the mundane paths of life, seeking a hint of peace and stability within, but can the realities of life truly provide answers? Should they persevere? Forge ahead through the thorns and hurdles of the journey, just to seek an unknown, perhaps an oasis, yet perhaps an abyss, a swamp, or a desert.

Should they compromise? Abandoning oneself, one's perseverance, one's dignity, capitulating to the realities of society, only by truly adhering to industry norms does the realization of dreams become possible, otherwise the so-called "dream" is just an unrealistic slogan, success requires sacrifices, even of the soul.

??So we come to a place of no return

Yours is the face that makes my body burn

And here is the name that our sons will learn

Curse the beauty, curse the queen

Curse the beauty, leave me??

Continuing on with the burden of dreams, they find themselves trapped in a land of no return, behind them, an abyss of unfathomable depths. Besides moving forward, there's no other choice. Each step, dripping with blood, painful and cruel, even if it means breaking every bone, even if it means turning to ashes, they won't hesitate, because every step defines their choices.

??So when you're weak

When you are on your knees

I'll do my best with the time that's left

Sworn with your spirit, you're fully fleshed??

The pressures of reality ultimately prove too cruel, crushing shoulders, knees, and the last shred of soul that supports their steps. Companions on the journey, one by one, are left behind, leaving only oneself to continue alone. Suddenly looking back, they find themselves with nothing, standing alone in a desolate land, with no way forward, no way back. Screaming hoarsely, yet receiving no response, the pain of being battered and bruised finds no refuge.

??So fuck your dreams

And don't you pick at our seams

I'll turn into a monster for you, if you pay me enough

None of this counts if you do cloud up??

Standing in the lonely land, they realize there's no going back, no future, no past. They can't recall why they started, can't remember the origin of it all, can't recall the reasons they persisted along the way, seeming to only have the instinct to survive, like beasts, standing under the spotlight of fame and fortune, willingly sacrificing dignity for the sake of profit.

Dreams? Only remnants in memory, adorned with beautiful garlands, radiating with divine halos, leading people forward, yet also leaving them lost.

??So we come to a place of no return

Yours is the face which makes my body burn

And here is the name that our sons will learn

Curse the beauty, curse the queen

Curse the beauty, leave me??

The road of dreams is so long, too long to see its end, with only a shred of faith as a reason to persist. Yet, on this road, there are countless temptations and dangers. Striking a deal with the devil, and taking the first step means there's no turning back. The land of darkness is an irreversible shore, every step losing a fragment of the soul, lost forever.

How could they know if what they're doing is right? Aren't they just bargaining with the devil? How can they stay sober, continuing to persist on this lonely road?

The confusion and powerlessness leave them at a loss.

His fingers stopped, the melody abruptly ceased, Renly sat on the bench, lost. A cold wind blew, uncontrollably shivering.

He remembered Chris Hemsworth, Scarlett Johansson, and Ryan Reynolds, Rami Malek, and James Badge Dale. He remembered the guy whose name he couldn't even recall from "The Pacific" boot camp.

Embracing the dream of becoming an actor, bearing the opposition and pressure from family, he recklessly plunged into Hollywood, unsure of his talents, uncertain of how much advantage his rebirth would bring, unsure if acting was the right choice. But still, he embarked on this path.

So, what lies at the end of the road? What is the ultimate goal of the dream? Amidst the hustle and bustle of fame and fortune, how long can his dream persist, or rather, remain pure? Will he, like Chris, get lost in the adulation of the spotlight, forget his initial intentions, forget the true meaning of his dream?

Will he become a beast of fame and fortune, driven only by instinct, devoid of reason?

He had never truly pondered this question—or perhaps he thought he had, but never truly understood its essence.

The constraints of the previous life were too heavy, the first half imprisoned his soul's freedom, the latter half restricted his physical freedom. When rebirth came, he almost blindly rushed into that halo, grasping at the straw of his dream, then began to run wildly, forgetting the freedom of the beautiful air. He ran all the way to now, without stopping.

Now, suddenly hitting the brakes, he felt somewhat lost. Chris's contorted face and mad eyes flashed through his mind, the question lingered, would Chris's face appear on his own someday? But this question, no one could answer.

Renly sat quietly on the bench, his fingertips following the ebb and flow of his thoughts, the broken fragments of language assembling into what seemed like a beautiful yet incomprehensible poem, the sorrow between the lines like a wounded bird struggling in the rain, flapping its wings with all its might, yet finding it increasingly difficult.

Heather stood silently in place, watching Renly's back, a inexplicable sadness pervading her heart.

In the night, his broad shoulders were like an eave in the rain, dividing the world into two parts, one raging and one peaceful, one violent and one serene. The faint halo roughly outlined the curve of his profile, blurring all emotions. However, the clear guitar string melody was so vivid and lively.

Amidst the quiet melody, a faint loneliness and sorrow permeated, the troubadour-like lyrics made people listen in confusion, and Heather even began to doubt—was that English? Or some other alien script, she understood each word, yet piecing them together left her perplexed.

But when she heard the line "So fuck your dreams," a surge of emotion rushed over her, catching her off guard, tears welling up in her eyes. In that moment, she understood Renly's inner turmoil: the wanderings and confusion of a lone dreamer.

Note: Mumford & Sons - Monster