Returning to Calmness

The bustling noise, the scorching glances, the searing touches... and the endless crowds. The Toronto International Film Festival was like a sack of marbles tossed together, shoulder to shoulder, thronging and surging, almost making it hard to breathe. The suffocating feeling wrapped around you like drowning, omnipresent and inescapable.

In fact, Renly didn't mind the crowds. On the contrary, he thoroughly enjoyed the lively atmosphere of the film festival, where movie enthusiasts gathered, tirelessly discussing and sharing their views; regular moviegoers camped out overnight just to buy tickets for their favorite films; every corner of the city was infused with the essence of "film," and that kind of fervor was intoxicating.

This was what Renly had always dreamed of. In his previous life, he longed to attend such a grand event, and now his wish had finally come true, which made him extremely excited.

However, when he became the center of attention, things started to change. Journalists surrounded him everywhere, making it impossible to watch a movie quietly or even have a peaceful meal. Every move was under the spotlight, tainted with commercialism, and every action was interpreted as a publicity stunt. Finding a moment of peace became a luxury.

Every night, as he went to sleep, the buzzing noise seemed to linger in his ears.

Compared to the attention-filled daily life, Renly still preferred to participate as an audience member, genuinely enjoying the pure joy of movies. Unknowingly, Renly began to taste the troubles of "living under the spotlight."

After the Toronto Film Festival closed, the Telluride Film Festival was next. But before heading to Telluride, Renly had a brief three-day break, winning a precious moment to breathe before returning to the spotlight. So, he flew directly back to New York from Toronto.

Upon arriving at the airport, Renly pulled down his baseball cap and blended into the crowd without attracting any attention. He hailed a taxi and returned to Manhattan low-key. However, when he arrived at his apartment, Renly realized he had habitually returned to his old home, forgetting that he had moved out before the Toronto Film Festival.

Smiling helplessly, he called another taxi and returned to his new apartment.

The new apartment wasn't far away, still located in Greenwich Village, but closer to the Little Italy area. The surrounding buildings had a strong European style: rustic brick walls, old-fashioned fireplaces, lush ivy, tall maple trees, and carved railings. Walking through the streets felt like traversing a tunnel through history.

Andy's apartment for Renly was in a three-hundred-year-old building, a studio on the third floor. It was a single-floor studio, approximately 2,000 square feet—an exceptional find on the densely packed Manhattan Island. Even in the relatively affordable downtown area, the monthly rent was $5,600.

For the wealthy, this was nothing, but for Renly, it was a significant burden—after "Buried," he still hadn't found his next job.

Opening the reddish-brown carved iron door, the interior revealed a typical postmodern retro style, resembling an old garage. Dark gray leather sofas, ash-colored short-pile carpets, and black glass coffee tables were on the right side of the entrance. Overhead, exposed aluminum pipes revealed the building's structure. On the left were the kitchen and dining area, designed in black and navy blue with exposed metal pipes and a lacquered high table, simple and elegant.

Straight ahead was a wooden screen wall, with a sliding wardrobe hidden within. Beyond the screen, the right front side featured an open bedroom, accessible by two steps leading to a large double bed, separated by a frosted glass panel. To the left was a semi-open bathroom.

The entire space was deliberately left open, feeling somewhat tight but not crowded, allowing for the free use of every corner.

However, at the moment, the space was cluttered with two suitcases and many cardboard boxes—Renly's moving belongings. He hadn't had time to unpack before flying to Toronto.

Looking at the piles of luggage, Renly felt a headache coming on. He knew the unpacking had to be done sooner or later. If not today, then tomorrow, or else it would remain the same mess when he returned from Telluride, and he'd have to start all over again.

Rubbing his slightly aching temples, Renly decided to postpone the chore. What he needed now was relaxation, so he stayed in the apartment for less than five minutes, dropping off his luggage before leaving again.

When he arrived at Mount Sinai Hospital, it was just past eleven. The place was still quiet, seemingly unaffected by the outside world. The familiar yet detested atmosphere slightly eased Renly's irritation and fatigue.

From a distance, Renly saw Annie Sulliman squatting at the door of the ward. She seemed to be sulking, a sight that was both amusing and endearing.

Renly squatted three steps away from Annie. "So, didn't poop today again?"

"Yeah." Annie wrinkled her nose, nodding gloomily. But after answering, she sensed something was off, glancing up with furrowed brows, looking disdainful. "Who are you?"

Only then did Renly realize he was still in disguise. He took off his baseball cap, casually ruffled his hair, and gave Annie a bright smile. "What, you don't recognize me after just a few weeks?"

"Oh! Renly!" Annie's smile blossomed instantly, her entire face lighting up like a blooming flower, which made Renly's lips curl into a smile too. But then Annie quickly stowed her smile, crossing her arms and pouting, "Hmph! I pooped very smoothly last week, but you didn't come to praise me." The little girl turned her face away, her demeanor screaming, "I'm mad at you."

Renly couldn't help but chuckle, his laughter rumbling in his chest. He loved moments like these, where he was still just Renly, an ordinary volunteer without any special aura. It was the same before, and it was the same now.

"You did great, you always do great, don't you?" Renly softened his voice, speaking gently. "So, I believe you'll do great today too." Seeing Annie's lips twitch, though she didn't turn back, Renly chuckled, "You know I never lie to you, right?"

Annie finally couldn't hold back her smile, her expression brightening like the sun, her pretty almond eyes curving into crescents. "Really? Will everything go well today?"

Instead of answering directly, Renly clenched his fist, giving a gentle pump. Annie mimicked him, enthusiastically cheering herself on. "I'll go try again!"

With that, Annie marched off determinedly, her chubby fists exuding an adorable vigor. Renly didn't laugh, but followed her lead, nodding firmly. "Yeah!" Then he watched as Annie resolutely headed to the bathroom.

Just yesterday, he was surrounded by media at the Toronto Film Festival. Today, he found unprecedented peace at Mount Sinai Hospital. It felt like two parallel worlds coexisting in the same universe. While people elsewhere were thrilled by some gossip, those here were struggling on the edge of life and death.

There was no judgment, as pain and happiness, disaster and joy coexisted, reflecting the essence of the world. But this stark contrast made Renly feel a sense of reality, a grounded reality.

Greeting familiar and unfamiliar faces along the way, his weary body seemed to regain its vitality. When he reached Heather Cross' room, it was empty. A new companion occupied the adjacent bed. Heather's neatly made bed resembled a freshly checked-in hotel room, causing Renly's heart to skip a beat—had something happened?

"Hey, Renly!" Kelly Barton's voice startled Renly, making him turn sharply. His sudden movement surprised Kelly, causing her to step back slightly, greeting him nervously, "Long time no see!"

"Where's Heather?" Renly asked urgently, skipping pleasantries.

Kelly pointed to the end of the hallway. "In the recreation room." Renly visibly sighed in relief, prompting Kelly to muse, "Heather's been doing well lately. Her rehab's progressing. I don't know the details, but her condition hasn't worsened."

Renly closed his eyes tightly, a relieved smile spreading across his lips. "That's good news, isn't it?" Kelly, somewhat confused, nodded. Renly chuckled, "The recreation room? I'll go say hi." He nodded to Kelly and hurried towards the recreation room.

From a distance, he heard familiar guitar chords flowing from the recreation room, slowing his steps. Through the glass wall of the recreation room, he saw Heather cradling the guitar, her head bent in concentration. His steps halted there.

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Come on, just give me all your powerstones or else I will curse your food to be bland...