The Greatest Showman

From the very centre of the seating area, he walked toward the middle aisle. Everyone stood up, clapping, smiling, or offering friendly pats on his shoulder to express their congratulations. The short path seemed endless, as a surge of people filled every corner of his vision. The bright lights blurred his sight, turning everything into dazzling points of light—brilliant, yet out of focus—leaving only a surging wave of heat and a misty haze stretching infinitely.

His footsteps felt as though they were treading on cotton, his mind went completely blank, and he relied solely on instinct to move toward that spotlight ahead. This path was so long, beginning from the meticulously planned childhood of his previous life, through a joyless, playless, and unrelenting adolescence, past the bedridden monotony of a stifled existence, through the dark, confined corridor after death, across the rigidly structured childhood of this life, the rebellious and free-spirited youth, and the crossroads of defying his parents that led to familial collapse.

At last, he had arrived.

“You can only rely on yourself. No one can help you. Dreams and freedom are the most useless things.”

“You are not a genius. That’s just an illusion. You are merely one among countless ordinary people going nowhere. Stop daydreaming—it will only make your life more miserable.”

“You have fifteen minutes to rest. Don’t play with those kids; they are of no benefit to your future. If you like, sit down and read a book to relax your mind.”

“Disgraceful! Acting isn’t a dream, not even a profession—it’s a shame to the family.”

“No, you can’t do this!” “This is useless…” “Reality does not allow the existence of dreams.” “Freedom and dreams are excuses poor people use to console themselves…” “No!” “Forbidden!” “Rejected!” “Impossible!”

Those cold and harsh words were like sharp blades, stabbing deeply into him, and leaving his body covered in scars.

Two lifetimes—so long it felt like an unending nightmare, yet so fleeting it seemed like a mere speck in the vast ocean. Step by step, like Sisyphus from Greek mythology, he had pushed his heavy boulder, bearing rejection after rejection. Tirelessly, recklessly, foolishly, bleeding but persistent, repeating the effort over and over, hoping one day to push the boulder to the summit. Staggering forward, his blood stained the path.

It was not to prove himself but to prove that life was more than cruel reality and foolish dreams. To show that beyond mere survival, life could hold other meanings.

He knew the Emmy Award was just the first step, a small and insignificant step. But finally, he had taken that first step. Wasn’t that enough? After waiting for two lifetimes, it had been such a long wait.

“Congratulations!” Tina Fey stepped forward, giving Renly a polite hug. Stepping back with a radiant smile, she sincerely repeated, “Congratulations!”

Renly took the trophy with both hands and studied it carefully. The graceful woman, embracing an atom and spreading her wings, the Muse of the Arts, soared freely under the play of lights. A year-old ultimatum from his parents echoed in his mind: “Foolish persistence.” The emotions surged uncontrollably, and the golden trophy blurred in his vision, covering the world in a golden haze.

Looking up, through the hazy glow, the applause gradually subsided. The dazzling starlight still shone brightly. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat, producing only a choked sound. The flood of emotions overwhelmed him so unexpectedly that even he felt at a loss. Twenty years of composure crumbled; his rationality surrendered.

Everything was so unfamiliar.

He thought he would be calm and rational. He thought he would exude gentlemanly grace. He thought he would control the stage with wit and humour. He thought he would accept the award lightly, brimming with confidence, as though everything was within his expectations. He thought he didn’t care.

But imagination is always just that. When it truly happens, when he stands in the moment, all his preconceived notions crumble like dust. Like a tornado crashing through, breaking every rule, overturning every principle, and sweeping away every shred of logic.

Clutching the trophy tighter, the cold metallic texture seemed to warm under the heat of his palms. His pounding heart crashed against his chest, as though it might burst into a shower of petals at any moment. The weightlessness of being suspended from the ground was disorienting.

Taking a deep breath, he began, “…This is truly a surprise and an accident. I think I need some time to calm down, or else my nose might start running.” He joked lightly, attempting to compose himself. But the thick nasal tone betrayed the tears he was holding back, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself. It was all too awkward. A ripple of laughter came from the audience below.

“Al, sorry, but it’s me standing here.” Renly glanced at Al Pacino in the front row and nodded slightly. Al was amused by the remark, shaking his head as he raised a middle finger at Renly. The nearby guests burst into laughter at that scene.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure what to say at this moment because my mind is completely blank. I can’t even remember the name of the series. God, I still have so many people I need to thank. Now I finally understand why everyone writes their acceptance speeches in advance,” Renly joked self-deprecatingly, with a hint of satire.

The crowd responded with whistles and laughter, warming the atmosphere far beyond his expectations.

“Um… I’m not a genius.” That was the only voice echoing in Renly’s mind, a cruel judgment from George. He thought he didn’t care, but deep down, it haunted him like a nightmare, never disappearing until today.

“But I’ve always worked hard,” Renly continued, his initially trembling voice growing steadier. The immense confidence he had cultivated returned to his chest. His right hand instinctively tightened its grip, the solid weight and metallic texture of the trophy grounding him once more.

The reassuring feeling of standing firmly on the ground brought him back to reality.

“So, thank you, Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg, for giving me this opportunity. Thank you, Rami, James, and the rest of the cast for your guidance. And, of course, thank you to the Emmys for recognizing me.” His gratitude was succinct but profound, carrying immense weight.

Now Renly understood why acceptance speeches often dragged on and mentioned countless names unfamiliar to most. Behind the glamour of an actor’s success were numerous unsung heroes in the shadows.

Emotion surged through him as he reflected, “I still remember the first scene we filmed. I botched it by looking directly into the camera due to a focus error. It was a rookie mistake, a real embarrassment.” Renly’s candid confession left the audience momentarily stunned, but the cast and crew of ‘The Pacific’ erupted into laughter, blowing whistles and playfully teasing him. Renly himself couldn’t help but laugh.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

“You can imagine how hard the crew worked to ensure quality. So, there are many people I must thank, but I’ll save that for later because our crew is so enormous that I’m not sure how long it would take to name everyone. I can already hear the broadcast director breathing a sigh of relief.” His humour brought another wave of applause from the audience. Without realizing it, Renly had subtly poked fun at the length of acceptance speeches, earning admiration for his wit and charm.

“So… thank you. Thank you for showing Sisyphus that dreams really can come true.”

He stepped back, bowed politely, and then turned around, somewhat confused, searching for the exit. Seeing his bewildered expression, the host and Tina Fey, who had been waiting backstage, laughed. The host came forward to guide Renly and Tina offstage.

Backstage, the bustling noise, bright lights, and lively chatter seemed to dim. People offered polite smiles and brief congratulations to Renly before moving on. Tina patted his shoulder again with a warm smile. “Well done. Enjoy the night,” she said before turning away.

The joy of winning, the exhilaration of validation, and the euphoria of taking the first step toward his dream—these emotions finally began to settle.

This was just the Outstanding Lead Actor in a Miniseries or Movie trophy. The Emmy Awards were merely a starting point. ‘The Pacific’ was just the beginning. Beyond himself, no one would dwell on this moment for long because life would go on, work would continue, and new journeys awaited. The road to refining his craft lay ahead, with countless accolades yet to be pursued. But the true essence of acting was an inner challenge, detached from awards—a relentless pursuit of artistry.

Looking down at the trophy again, the joy remained, but the euphoria began to transform into a calm determination. That uncontrollable elation now became fuel for further effort, a driving force for exploration. Two lifetimes of experiences had taught Renly that this award can solidified his confidence and courage.

No one could stop him—not George, not Elizabeth, no one.

On stage, the awards ceremony carried on as other trophies found their recipients. Yet the ripple effect of this stunning upset had only just begun.

Each year, newcomers emerged, and this year was no exception. But this year’s upset was especially striking—not Bryan Cranston achieving a three-peat, not Jim Parsons winning his first Outstanding Lead Actor Emmy Award, not even the breakout success of ‘Modern Family’. Instead, it was the unheralded Renly Hall defeating the heavyweight Al Pacino.

Wait—who? Everyone wore the same puzzled expression: “What did I miss?”

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T/N – That is the last chapter today. I must say this was one of the most genuine speeches you will ever read in this kind of novel…

T/N – If you like this novel, please give a review or rating on Novel Updates