Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 94: An Old Friend's Visit

Renly cleared his throat, feeling a bit parched. He had drunk a bit too much last night, but luckily sangria wasn't too strong, so he didn't have any signs of a hangover.

Picking up the teacup on the table, he removed the tea bag from inside and placed it on the tray. Tilting his head back, he downed the strong tea in one gulp. Twenty years had passed, but he still wasn't used to tea bags in the Western world. He missed watching the tea leaves unfurl in boiling water. But in times like these, it was better than nothing.

Setting down the teacup, Renly quickly left the hotel room. Today was an important day—he had a crucial task ahead: an eight-hour immersive experience, a test not just of physical endurance but also of mental fortitude. He needed to concentrate fully. Since he had made up his mind, there was no room for hesitation.

The hotel lobby on the ground floor wasn't bustling. A group of guests was checking in at the front desk, while a backpacker sat by a computer in the waiting area. Another person sat on the sofa facing away from the entrance, reading a newspaper. Bright sunlight streamed in unimpeded, filling the spacious lobby with a serene vitality. Starting the day like this couldn't be better.

The Catalonia Park Guell Hotel was located in the somewhat remote Gracia district, only six hundred meters from the famous Guell Park. However, getting to the city center required some form of transportation, about a fifteen-minute journey. The "Buried" production's budget was limited, and booking this three-star hotel already exceeded Renly's expectations. He had mentally prepared himself to stay in a youth hostel; furthermore, compared to the bustling old town, the quietness here was conducive to Renly's role preparation.

Renly nodded to the lobby manager and quickly headed towards the door. "Mr. Hall, Mr. Hall," the lobby manager called out, halting Renly's steps. "You have a visitor."

Renly frowned. A visitor? Who could be visiting him? He was just a nobody, and his arrival in Barcelona hadn't attracted any attention. How could he have a visitor? Was it a crew member? Rodrigo hadn't mentioned coming over this morning.

Raising his head, Renly scanned the lobby subconsciously. His gaze suddenly stopped, fixing on the back of the person reading the newspaper.

Broad shoulders appeared slightly frail, outlined meticulously by a navy-blue suit; the firm and resolute jawline could be vaguely discerned, exhibiting ruggedness and determination. The slightly taut bronze skin hinted at a disciplined and reserved posture. Neatly trimmed black hair exuded a cold and piercing aura, as if even the sunlight couldn't approach within three feet.

This back view was unmistakably familiar. How could he not recognize it?

Renly lowered his head, hiding his inner emotions behind lowered eyelids. Only a fleeting smile emerged amidst the light and shadow, like a sudden burst of spring sunshine. The arc of his lips lifted gently before subsiding, as if gentle ripples, "You'd better keep reading that newspaper. If you're not coming up, I'll call a taxi now."

That deep voice, under the bright sunlight, resonated like the strings of a cello. After speaking, Renly didn't hesitate at all, directly turning and striding away.

The lobby manager stood still, bewildered. "What's going on?"

Then, the figure sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper stood up leisurely, folding the newspaper with deliberation. Turning around, he faced Renly's gradually retreating figure and spoke up, his voice carrying, "Even if you're not planning on giving your old buddy a warm hug, at least give me some time to tidy up."

"You know I dislike pretentiousness," Renly's voice came from a distance, his steps uninterrupted. Then he turned around, a smile blooming at the corner of his mouth for a moment, like the first light of spring, before it receded. "Especially when someone outshines me."

Standing by the roadside, Renly looked around, then raised his hand. A taxi at the far end of the road was heading in the opposite direction and stopped. Waiting for the adjacent car to pass so it could make a U-turn.

"I thought you'd stay at the youth hostel. I didn't expect you to choose a hotel. This halfway house doesn't seem like your style," the man jogged up, but his left hand remained in his pocket, showing no signs of disarray. There was an air of ease and familiarity between them.

Renly raised an eyebrow, sarcastically returning, "I thought you'd refuse to appear in such a halfway house. If Charlotte finds out, she'll probably mock you for a year."

The man's gaze flickered slightly with a hint of amusement before he retorted, "Apparently, she wouldn't miss you either, especially after learning about your current job."

"I wouldn't mind performing Hamlet in front of her. You shouldn't forget, every time she watches 'Hamlet,' she convulses and flees. Especially that line, 'To be or not to be.' I'll give her a Shakespearean performance," Renly said nonchalantly, and both men couldn't help but chuckle, recalling shared memories.

The taxi driver parked by the roadside, hesitating. Looking at the two men in front of him, almost equal in height, their long legs and gentlemanly demeanor seemed somewhat similar yet distinctly different. One wore a suit, sharp and imposing, exuding a cold, hard aura; the other wore a T-shirt and jeans, casual and elegant, with a hint of laziness in the sunlight. The sight of them standing side by side was both enticing and intimidating.

They didn't seem like the type to just hail a taxi casually.

Matthew Dunlop stepped forward, opening the car door and gesturing invitingly. Renly didn't refuse, bending down to get in the car, giving the driver the address he had already prepared, with the air of someone accustomed to it.

Matthew stood by the car door, pausing for a moment. Everything was so familiar, as if nothing had ever changed, and nothing ever would. Shaking his head with a light laugh, he also got into the car, which almost didn't stop, and then drove away.

"Aren't you curious why I showed up?" Matthew looked at Renly, his face still calm, seemingly not surprised by his sudden appearance.

It had been over a year since they last contacted each other—no contact meant no communication whatsoever. He knew Renly was in New York, but he never knew which area he lived in. After Renly went to New York, he seemed to disappear without a trace.

Matthew earnestly searched Renly's face but found no trace of surprise. "Aren't you curious how I knew you were here?"

Renly turned his head, scrutinizing his old friend carefully.

The handsome eyebrows resembled the steep coastline of the Arctic Ocean, and the straight nose split the profound features neatly in half. The pale lips hinted at the indifference of a winter sun. From the sleek hair to the buttoned shirt, delicate cuffs, and tailored trousers, he exuded a distant yet restrained allure, making people stop involuntarily five steps away.

Everything was as it was in memory. A year had passed, leaving little trace on him—compared to the fifteen years before.

The Dunlop and Hall families were quite similar, both being impoverished nobility, yet they maintained the pride and dignity of nobility. His father was a lawyer, his mother a judge, and he was the third child, with two older sisters—Charlotte Dunlop being one of them.

Renly couldn't recall how their story began; he only remembered they met in elementary school. For Renly, who had been reborn, elementary school students were just a bunch of brats, and he naturally had no intention of making friends. But at some point, they became friends, and Matthew could be said to be the first true friend he made after his rebirth. Since then, they had been classmates, first at Eton College, then at Cambridge University, and now.

"Edith," Renly's deep brown eyes flashed with a sly fox-like cunning as he spoke.

Edith was the only explanation, her work intricately linked with Hollywood. The recent news of "Cleopatra" making it to the billboards might not be significant, but with a little attention, one could notice. Edith only needed to inquire at the union, and information about "Buried" would be public. It wasn't difficult to guess the answer. Matthew was a lawyer, with a nearly obsessive attention to detail. Given a hint, connecting it to facts was no challenge.

Matthew's disappointment was evident. Renly had guessed the answer right away, which was quite anticlimactic. He had gone through some effort to find Renly's current location and finally called Rodrigo to get a roundabout answer. He had intended to surprise Renly but ended up being found out immediately.

Just as in their childhood, time hadn't changed much.

"So, where are we going now? It seems a bit early for a bar or brothel," Matthew quickly regained his composure, surveying the rapidly receding scenery on either side of the street. Obviously, they weren't heading towards the city center.

Renly didn't even lift his eyes, casually retorting, "That's Arthur's hobby, not mine. Apparently, your brain has been damaged by legal texts."

"Phew, it seems Hollywood hasn't poisoned your blood yet," Matthew replied with a relieved expression, delivering a blow to Renly. London's aristocrats always looked down on Hollywood, and Matthew's words hinted at this disdain. "So, are we going back to London after this?"

"No," Renly shook his head. "After you go back, give my regards to Charlotte." Charlotte in the Dunlop family was also a unique figure, always believing that the aristocratic system was corrupt and should be abolished altogether. Such revolutionary ideas had no market among the aristocracy, but they had made Charlotte and the two rebels of the Hall family—Charlotte and Edith—good friends.

Matthew wasn't surprised by this answer, nodding in understanding, then changing the subject. "So, where exactly are we going now?"