The-Greatest-Showman

"Jake Gyllenhaal. I would recommend him for this."

Andy observed Renly in silence. He couldn't quite place it, but Renly seemed different.

In the past, when Renly encountered a script or character he loved, his eyes would light up. There was a warmth to his presence, a palpable enthusiasm that was contagious, even to those who weren't actors themselves. His eagerness and focus made you feel it too.

But now, something had shifted.

Renly's eyes were still alight with excitement, the eagerness to try and create still radiating from him. Andy could sense it—the lingering regret when Renly turned down Nightcrawler, the quiet struggle in his words, and the subtle gesture of reading the script with both hands, as if reluctant to let it go.

But he chose to reject it.

Not because he didn't love it, but because he had become more open, more at ease.

He still cared deeply, but he had gained a sense of peace. He understood that someone else might be a better fit for the role. He knew he had many opportunities ahead of him and that he was still growing as an actor. There was a calmness in this confidence that made him seem even more secure.

This should have been a good thing.

But Andy wasn't so sure.

After everything that had happened with the filming of Boom Drummer, it was clear that Renly had put a lot on the line. Just look at his hands—he had studied the piano, and while not a professional, his fingers still held the marks of a player, a few calluses here and there. But now, those hands were covered with scars, the cracks almost impossible to ignore.

"Renly, has something happened recently?" Andy hesitated, but his concern couldn't be hidden. "If you're not feeling well, we can take a break. No need to worry about anything, even if it's for six months or a year. If you have any particular needs or thoughts about your work, let me know. I'll figure out a solution."

Renly blinked, a bit puzzled by Andy's worry.

Andy maintained his smile, but his voice grew more serious. "Renly, no matter what's going on, we can talk it through. Even if I can't solve it, at least we can think about it together. If it's something personal, I'm here anytime, ready to listen."

"I'm fine, Andy." Renly frowned, his confusion clear. The smile at the corner of his mouth shifted slightly. "I know you're concerned, but… is this about Nightcrawler? I told you, it's because Jack is more suited for the role."

Andy's concern was obvious.

Matthew, who had been in the kitchen getting water, overheard and couldn't help adding, "Andy's worried about you, Renly. You've put too much into these projects, and then bounce back too quickly, as if nothing happened. Now, suddenly, you've turned down something you were excited about. Andy's just looking out for you."

Father, like son.

Renly didn't realize that the change in him was more noticeable to others. But to Andy, and even to Matthew, it was different.

Matthew turned to Andy, "Don't worry about Renly. He's the strongest and most determined person I know, not because he's invulnerable, but because he always knows exactly what he's doing. If he ever really needs help, he'll ask for it."

After that, Matthew took his glass of water back to his desk.

Andy stood still for a moment, then finally couldn't resist asking, "Has he ever asked you for help?"

"He's not human." Matthew paused for a moment, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, before he returned to his desk.

Renly wasn't invincible. He had been hurt before. He had suffered, grieved—especially when Heather died. But he was meticulous about hiding his vulnerabilities, keeping them buried deep within while leaning on his friends.

Friends. That was Renly's bottom line. The one thing he'd protect above all else. If anyone questioned why Renly had defended Paul Walker's honor so fiercely, Matthew would simply tell them it was because they didn't truly know him.

Renly couldn't let this conversation continue. "Hey, can we stop talking about my mental state? It feels a little odd. I can step away if you need to—just go ahead and have your talk." He interrupted, his tone playful, though there was a hint of protest in his voice.

Matthew didn't respond, focusing back on his work.

Andy turned his gaze back to Renly, still with a slight trace of worry.

Renly raised his hands, "Alright, you want me to go downstairs and talk about this? We could avoid Matthew while we're at it."

The suggestion was enough to make Andy laugh, easing the tension. Renly continued, "Don't worry, I'm fine. Boom Drummer... Through this project, I learned a lot and gained even more. I'm still processing it, but I'm doing okay."

"Rejecting Nightcrawler was just about Jack. Maybe it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but I believe if I let it go now, there will be another one. Jack's just the right fit for that role. I think he'll bring a lot to the character. That's all there is to it." Renly gave Andy a calm, sincere explanation, "Besides, you can always find a better script, right?"

Andy observed Renly, who met his gaze without hesitation.

Eventually, Andy broke into a familiar smile and shook his head. "Since when did you become so sweet-talking? Doesn't sound like you at all."

"Are you sure it's recent? Or have you just never seen it before? Does this mean our partnership is progressing?" Renly raised an eyebrow, teasing.

Andy paused, then smiled in return. He finally relaxed, "I thought you'd pick Nightcrawler, and then everything would settle down. You'd handle Universal's two projects, and I could rest easy. But now, here you are, choosing Comity—forcing me to pull out the big guns."

"The big guns?" Renly looked genuinely intrigued, leaning forward.

Andy exhaled, relieved. "You could recommend Nightcrawler to Jake Gyllenhaal yourself, or you could talk to Dan about it. But first, let's get a producer on board."

"Who's the producer for the film?" Renly, with his new perspective on filmmaking after his experience as a producer with Boom Drummer, asked, his mind already working through the logistics.

Andy let out a breath. "Actually, there isn't a producer yet. Dan submitted the script, but in a way, he's hoping you'll take the role of producer. With your name behind it, he believes you could attract investors. It's a dark, realistic script, and finding investment in Hollywood for something like that is never easy."

Renly lowered his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I'll suggest it to Andre Hamilton, see if he's interested. Then I'll meet with Jake Gyllenhaal, get a feel for whether he'd want to take on the project as a producer."

"You could also be a producer, even if you don't act in it." Andy added.

"I'm fine with that, but I'd be more of a figurehead. I don't want to interfere in the creative process. I'm happy to offer advice to Gilroy and Jack before we start, but once we're in production, I'll let them do their work."

Renly's evolving perspective on his career was evident.

This was a common transformation for Hollywood's top actors. From Tom Hanks to Brad Pitt, many actors who had reached the top transitioned into directing or producing to maintain their careers and influence in the industry. For those who didn't have the directorial passion, producing offered a way to stay in the game without stepping behind the camera.

Renly was still far from retirement, but he was broadening his possibilities, exploring different avenues.

For Andy, this was a good thing, and he relaxed. "I thought Nightcrawler would be your next project. I figured that would be a solid next step. Now, you've picked Comity, and you're forcing me to get creative with solutions."

"The big guns?" Renly repeated, eager to hear more.