Steal the Thunder

"Ahhh!"

The screams rolled in like a tsunami, shaking the entire Hilton Hotel. The force was so overwhelming that everyone turned their heads. The crowd, like a volcano suppressed for centuries, finally erupted, releasing all its pent-up energy in a shocking display.

Instinctively, every pair of eyes shifted toward the audience, and Renly was no exception. The sudden change from silence to an earth-shaking roar left no room for transition, completely enveloping the red carpet and reminding everyone of their own insignificance.

The surging, boiling sea of fans came into view, with Renly's supporters disappearing like drops of water into the ocean. The waves swallowed them whole, as about half the audience stood up, screaming and crying, creating a terrifying spectacle.

Even after attending the Toronto Film Festival and the Emmys, Renly had never experienced such fan frenzy firsthand. The twisted faces were so real yet so surreal, making time and space blur.

In an instant, all eyes snapped toward the entrance of the red carpet.

There stood Justin Bieber, a slender figure dressed in a modest white shirt and black suit, with a small black silk bow tie. He looked like a middle school student attending a graduation ceremony — young and naive, still awkward. His trademark bangs, recently cut short, had caused a wave of teenage tears and dominated entertainment headlines.

Suppressing a smile, Justin waved confidently to the crowd as if standing on top of the world. Since his debut album in 2009, his meteoric rise had achieved what many could only dream of in a lifetime.

That one wave sent the crowd into overdrive. Many young girls cried tears of joy, their faces reflecting an almost religious awe. The air above the red carpet filled with a heatwave of emotion, rolling and relentless.

However, the focus on him only lasted a brief moment. The actors soon turned away, offering no more than a fleeting glance. After all, this was Hollywood, and singers didn't have a place here. And as for a teen idol like Justin, there was even less interest. His rabid fan base, notorious for causing trouble, didn't help either.

It was reminiscent of the stars of "Twilight," who, like comets, achieved unbelievable success but were doomed to miss out on major awards for the next decade or more. Even stars like Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt had spent nearly 30 years chasing an Oscar in vain.

If actors struggled so much for recognition, what chance did Justin Bieber, a teenage pop sensation, stand?

The atmosphere turned awkward, with the wild enthusiasm of the audience clashing against the cold indifference of the red carpet. The sharp contrast between the two created an uncomfortable silence at the Golden Globes.

Renly shifted his gaze. He had no interest in these idols. Smiling politely at the journalists before him, he nodded, "I think I should keep moving. There are still hundreds of lovely fans waiting for me ahead."

His voice, quiet amidst the chaos, seemed like a lone sail braving the stormy sea. Only a few journalists, like Diana, Gavin, and Cornell, heard him. They caught the humor and self-deprecation in his words before watching him take a step forward.

Suddenly, the reporters panicked. Those who hadn't heard his remark scrambled to stop snapping pictures. Covering Justin was just work; there was no real interest in interviewing him. A simple shot of him walking the red carpet was enough.

But Renly was different. The real interview had just begun, and no one wanted to miss it.

"Renly! Renly!" At least seven reporters called out in unison, their voices overlapping as one reached out, half their body leaning over the railing, blocking Renly's path.

The one extending his hand was Bradley, an old acquaintance. Renly didn't brush him off but chuckled, "I thought my interview quota for today was already done, wasn't it?" With a teasing grin, he continued walking.

"Renly, about 'Fast Five'," Bradley shouted, "I mean, what was your experience filming it? Stepping in for Dwayne at the last minute — you two have completely different acting styles. What was it like joining the cast? After delivering two standout performances, how does your first big commercial movie feel? Paul Walker isn't here tonight, but Vin Diesel is. Does the crew feel confident about the film?"

Bradley's questions came in rapid succession, shouted to cut through the shrill screams from behind. His words reached Renly clearly despite the noise.

Renly paused, but other reporters didn't relent. More questions followed one after another.

"How does it feel stepping into Dwayne's role last minute?"

"Did you feel pressure replacing him?"

"What was it like squaring off against Vin Diesel?"

"'Buried' seems to be gaining more buzz than '127 Hours'. Do you think you have a shot at winning tonight?"

"First 'The Pacific', then 'Buried'. Any other projects before that?"

"Many consider you the biggest discovery of 2010. What's your take on that?"

"People are raving about your chemistry with Jennifer Lawrence. What's your impression of her?"

"How does it feel walking the Golden Globes red carpet for the first time?"

"You mentioned your admiration for Meryl Streep in Telluride. What about Johnny Depp?"

"Some say you're the next Brad Pitt. Are you planning to chat with him tonight?"

"What did Tom Hanks think of your performance in 'Buried'?"

The barrage of questions was overwhelming.

Renly had risen too fast over the past six months. Just as people had barely gotten used to one success, another shock would follow, drawing even more curiosity toward him. But the issue was, Renly had only done one magazine interview in Toronto, and nothing else—no TV, no radio, not even phone interviews. The mystery surrounding him only deepened.

People expected him to emerge during the awards season to promote 'Buried', but again, they were disappointed. Now, here he was, finally making an appearance. For the first time, the reporters really focused on him.

Even though Renly was still an underdog at tonight's ceremony, his meteoric rise couldn't be ignored. His brief exchange with Cornell earlier had caught many journalists' attention. Every year had its standout newcomers, but Renly was the most unique and intriguing of them all. His wit, composure, and confidence were traits rarely seen, even in veterans of Hollywood.

Some reporters had a sense that Renly actually seemed to... enjoy dealing with the press. And that...

Justin, meanwhile, strode forward, waving to the screaming fans, his face beaming with pride. At only sixteen, he already seemed to have the world at his feet.

But after walking a short distance, Justin felt something was off. Where were the reporters? Why wasn't anyone calling his name or asking questions? Was it because of the Golden Globes? But as a presenter and one of the night's big attractions, there should have been some questions. His manager and publicist had prepped him thoroughly for this moment.

But now...

Justin glanced around, scanning the press pit. The cameras that should have been aimed at him were scattered thinly, while a large huddle of journalists focused entirely on one actor in the center. The rapid-fire questions continued, undeterred.

Behind him, the audience was boiling over with emotion, while ahead, the journalists were completely engrossed in their work.

The stark contrast and massive disparity hit Justin like a physical blow, pulling him down with a harsh reminder: this was an actor's world.