Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 118: An Aristocratic Breakfast

The conversation didn't last too long in the end. In less than two hours, Andy was busy again. His first task was to find a house for Renly. He hoped Renly could move within the next three days, at the latest five days.

After Andy left, Renly didn't linger in the pioneer village and went straight home. He wasn't tired; he had slept almost all the way on the plane, so his jet lag was mostly adjusted. However, his body still felt a bit off after the long flight, his feet slightly swollen. He decided to relax at home for a bit, figuring he'd be fine by tomorrow.

Pushing open the door, he was greeted with a mess. His initial thought: a burglary? But upon closer inspection, Renly dismissed this speculation.

The sofa was covered in trash—disposable cups, cream residue, even vomit, emitting a foul smell. The coffee table in the center of the living room was overturned, surrounded by various beer bottles reflecting the sunlight. From the ceiling lamp hung a bunch of toilet paper, adorned with a string of lace bras and panties, colorful like a Christmas tree. The floor was damp and sticky, resembling traces left after liquid evaporated—Renly refused to dwell on what kind of liquid it might be. And not to mention the shredded tissues, cigarette butts, and pillow fluff strewn all over the place, making it look like a battlefield after a cat-and-dog fight.

This scene wasn't a burglary but rather resembled a mess left after a party.

Renly furrowed his brows slightly. He had a guess in mind, so he stepped forward, treading through the garbage, avoiding broken glass bottles and floating underwear, and peered into Chris's open room door.

The wardrobe door hung pitifully, swaying gently. The mattress, its cover pulled open, revealed the springs inside. Drawers were all pulled out and emptied. On the opposite wall, written in glaring red spray paint, was a big "FUCK," standing out amidst the chaos.

Clearly, the culprit had been found: Chris Hemsworth, his roommate.

No need to guess, Chris had already moved out. Just as Andy's priority today was to get him to move, Fischer wouldn't let the future Thor continue to reside in this neighborhood. Moving out was only natural; there was nothing surprising about it. However, Renly hadn't expected Chris to be so immature, trashing the place and leaving like those immature teenagers in a college fraternity.

If he remembered correctly, Chris was already twenty-seven this year.

Looking at the mess before him, Renly found it somewhat amusing. It wasn't about worrying about the cleaning and repair costs of the house. When they signed the lease, Chris left a month's rent as a deposit in Renly's account. Clearly, Chris had no intention of reclaiming it, so that should cover the expenses. But Chris's childish behavior left Renly unsure of how to evaluate it.

Glancing at the giant "FUCK" in front of him again, was it a declaration of war or disdain? Or was it a farewell to this apartment, cutting ties with the past and moving on? Of course, there was also the possibility that Chris was simply too lazy to clean up and had no intention of targeting him.

Perhaps, this could be a topic for their next meeting.

With a light chuckle and a shake of his head, Renly pushed his suitcase back into his room and called a 24-hour cleaning service. Then he took a shower. By the time he came out, the cleaning crew had arrived and swiftly got to work. Renly's room was locked, so it remained unaffected. He just tidied it up a bit, ignoring the cleaning outside, and lay down on his bed, taking out his computer to sort through the photos from his recent trip.

Perhaps influenced by Edith, Renly had developed some quirks of a photographer, although he wasn't professional. He didn't like taking pictures of himself; he preferred capturing others or landscapes.

Sorting through his own shots was interesting. Each photo recorded a moment and a memory of the journey. To Renly, the beauty of pressing the shutter wasn't just about the aesthetics of the photo but the moment it captured, encapsulating the essence of the journey.

Among the photos he sorted through, Renly's favorite was undoubtedly one he took while rock climbing. It was taken the day after he met André Hamilton and Paul Walker. Before he started climbing, he saw an experienced climber on the rock face. In the photo, the climber gripped the rocks with one hand, looking up to survey the surroundings, searching for the next foothold. The sunlight at the top of the cliff was fading, casting a blue hue over the entire rock face. The climber's gaze was fixed on the direction illuminated by the fading light.

In terms of composition and lighting, the photo wasn't outstanding, but Renly was particularly fond of it. Because in that photo, he saw the intense focus, the passion for exploring nature, the determination to overcome challenges, and the faint but unwavering sunlight above, all of which were crucial reasons why Renly learned rock climbing.

Renly couldn't help but think, maybe he should visit the Grand Canyon National Park at some point. That's the best place in the world for rock climbing. Not that he would try it himself; the difficulty there was too high. Just to observe, contemplate, and admire. Only in the midst of nature could humans become humble.

At some point, Renly drifted off to sleep, still leaning on his pillow. The computer lay on the bed, its screen blank after a while.

He slept soundly until the ringing phone interrupted his slumber. Turning over, he tried to ignore it by covering his ears with the blanket, but the phone didn't relent. After what felt like the sixth or seventh attempt, Renly couldn't bear it any longer. He groped for the phone on the bedside table and put it to his ear, then continued to sleepily, "Hello, this is Renly."

"Renly, why didn't you tell me you had scheduled a cleaning service to come?" Andy's voice came urgently from the other end. "You must understand, this kind of work is highly confidential and important. Gossip often spreads from them. If you need anything, call me, and I'll send someone dedicated to you."

Renly's brain was still in a state of sleep, and he didn't bother to question how Andy knew all this, probably by bribing the security downstairs or the neighbors next door. "Is there a problem now?" Renly's voice, with its deep sleep nasal tone, sounded lazy and hoarse.

Andy paused for a moment, then chuckled lightly and shook his head. "Never mind, there's no problem now; I've already taken care of it. Just, next time, it's better to inform me before something happens. I'd be caught off guard otherwise. And in the future, when you have a PR person, it's best to inform them too..." His words trailed off as Andy realized Renly was probably still asleep and wouldn't hear any of this.

After a brief pause, "Why is your place such a mess? I won't dwell on that question. But today, we're going suit shopping. You haven't forgotten, have you? We've scheduled a stylist for ten in the morning, and it's already quarter to nine. You know New York traffic better than I do, so, in fifteen minutes, I'll be waiting downstairs."

Andy waited for a moment but didn't hear any response. "Renly?"

"Chris threw a party before leaving, leaving a mess behind. In case you're curious," Renly replied. He wouldn't do something so childish. "Fifteen minutes is fine."

"Re..." Before Andy could continue, Renly hung up the phone, watching the phone blink with the busy signal. His reaction was too quick. Wasn't Renly supposed to be sleeping?

Andy gestured to himself and drove to Renly's apartment. After arriving, he found a parking spot and waited. Fifteen minutes later, right on time at nine o'clock, Renly appeared at the apartment entrance.

After getting in the car, Renly's first words were, "Is there breakfast?" He had slept for over fifteen hours since returning home yesterday morning, and his stomach had lost its sense of hunger. He needed some energy.

This question caught Andy off guard. He smiled stiffly, paused for half a second, then said, "If you want, we can grab a coffee on the way and a couple of doughnuts?"

"No, I don't eat in the car." Renly smiled and declined. Not to mention the etiquette of aristocracy, even in his previous life, Dean Yuenan had put a lot of effort into Renly's education. Eating in the car was not only impolite but also bad for digestion. "How about this? When we arrive at the clothing store, tell them not to serve coffee and instead bring a cup of hot milk with two biscuits. That should do."

"You mean, the British afternoon tea style?" Andy's lips twitched slightly, sounding somewhat surprised.

Renly turned back, "What's wrong? Is there anything inappropriate?" According to aristocratic etiquette, eating in a clothing store was impossible, but tea was a different story.

"No, it's just that you've always seemed very... American. It's not until now that I realize you're British." Andy teased lightly.