Chatter

The summer sunlight streamed through the windows, filling the entire room with its gentle, warming golden glow. The once cold and empty room slowly came to life.

Matthew entered the room but had to tiptoe around as if playing a game of house, avoiding the clothes, socks, backpacks, and books scattered haphazardly on the floor. The otherwise pristine living room resembled a disaster scene. Matthew often wondered if Renly did this intentionally. In the past, he would scatter things around the house to provoke Elizabeth, but over time, none of it managed to ruffle her feathers. Instead, he had developed the habit of misplacing things. Of course, it was more likely that Renly was just a complete life imbecile.

Glancing at the empty bed, it was clear where the owner of this room had gone. The sound of water from the bathroom confirmed it.

Turning his attention back to the chaotic room, Matthew closed his eyes, out of sight, out of mind. However, he couldn't control the irritability brought on by his compulsive tendencies. So, he opened his eyes again, put down his briefcase, hung his suit jacket on a hanger, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and began to busy himself.

The sound of water in the bathroom ceased, and the sound of water in the kitchen started. Matthew turned around and saw Renly coming out with wet hair, barefoot. He couldn't help but furrow his brow. A severe germophobe, every time he saw this scene, he got a headache. "Either put on slippers or sit on the couch. The floor hasn't been cleaned for two days."

Renly's footsteps paused briefly. "Oh, two days? I thought you cleaned it every day." His tone was casual, as if Matthew were his cleaning assistant. But honestly, even cleaning assistants and butlers couldn't match Matthew's cleaning skills, according to Charlotte, his sister.

Matthew had long gotten used to it. "These past two days, I've been busy with an important case." That explanation was given, but not elaborated upon. He finished tidying up all the kitchen utensils, dried his hands, and poured two cups of freshly brewed coffee. He walked into the living room, retrieved coasters from under the coffee table, and placed the two cups on them. Finally, he sat down beside Renly. "What about you? What are your plans after work?"

"Well, I'm thinking of learning scuba diving and getting a deep-sea diving license. After "Detachment" just wrapped up, I felt a bit down, but when I think about diving, my spirits lift again." Renly's expression brightened as he talked about it. "Do you know Paul studied something related to the ocean and got a degree? I'm considering having Paul lead me to systematically learn diving in the Caribbean."

"I thought you were still learning to surf," Matthew said as he casually sipped his coffee.

"Surfing, of course, I'll continue to learn that too. I'm not sure if I'll have time this Christmas, but I'm thinking about trying tubular waves on Oahu Island." Renly pondered seriously, earning a roll of the eyes and a sarcastic comment from Matthew.

"Are you sure about that? If I remember correctly, tubular waves can be a disaster for non-professionals and could even lead to injury."

Renly pulled the corner of his mouth and shrugged, then picked up his coffee with a noncommittal look. Matthew could only shake his head helplessly. Renly was someone who dared to take risks, enjoy life, and bear the consequences, a trait even admired by Edith, Charlotte, and others. Among the aristocracy, he was an absolute anomaly.

"I'm actually considering taking on a play. I feel like I should work on my skills a bit more. But for now, it's just in the consideration stage," Renly said casually to Matthew.

Of course, Renly was aware of the bleak state of London's West End and Broadway. Finding work in the entertainment industry, whether for emerging actors or established ones, had become increasingly challenging. Even staging a new play was a formidable task.

Most of the shows regularly performed in London's West End and Broadway had been around for over a decade or even two, classics like "Miss Saigon" and "The Phantom of the Opera". These productions were primarily aimed at attracting tourists, and the opportunities for actors to focus on true performance and art were diminishing.

So, finding work in London's West End and Broadway was no easy feat, and Renly knew that.

Matthew's train of thought, however, was different from Renly's. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "London's West End? Or Broadway?"

"Is there a difference?" Renly replied with a light laugh.

While there were differences in the productions between the two regions, in the globalized entertainment world, it was common for Broadway shows to be staged in London's West End and for London's West End productions to tour on Broadway. However, Matthew's question seemed to imply something else. London's West End was the stronghold of the Hall family.

Matthew glanced at Renly helplessly and then shared some gossip. "Last month, when Eaton returned to London, nearly everyone he met mentioned your name. Rumor has it that George fell ill while vacationing in the Lake District due to the damp weather, and he missed all the August summer parties."

These were just two simple sentences, somewhat disjointed, but they vividly revealed the gossip and secrets of London's aristocracy.

Because of a straightforward commercial film like "Fast 5", the Hall family had become well-known, and this was a family secret that could not be divulged. For other members of the aristocracy, it had become a laughingstock. Although independent art films like "Buried" and "Like Crazy" had not fared well either, and even the theater was gradually declining, let alone being a commercial hub like Hollywood, "Fast 5" was a serious blow.

"It seems Eaton should invite me to dinner, or else those boring ladies of the upper crust will undoubtedly be busy introducing him to potential partners," Renly said calmly, still having the time for jokes. He waved his hand as he continued, "They are a bunch of self-absorbed, world-centered, but already marginalized church scholars. To use Andrew's words, their so-called gossip and chatter are even more boring than a prostitute's love confession."

The aristocracy was a small circle, where even a minor incident like someone missing breakfast due to oversleeping could become the subject of afternoon tea discussions. These discussions often extended to the family's decline and chaos, with no decorum. Financial troubles had gotten so severe that parents were now hoping to improve their family's situation through their children's marriages. Such gossip was never-ending in this world.

"Not to mention rebels like Renly and Andrew, their every move can spark discussions. If they had to pay attention to every piece of gossip and respond to every comment, they might as well not live and just establish a hotline to address everything. That would be the best option," Matthew quipped.

However, Eaton was an honest person and not one to engage in verbal disputes. Faced with such a barrage, he probably couldn't handle it.

"If you do return to London's West End, remember to send me a formal invitation," Matthew added, joining in on the joke.

Honestly, he was somewhat looking forward to Renly taking the stage in London's West End. Theater was one of the daily pastimes of the aristocracy, and they updated their playbill almost every week.

However, aristocrats watched theater so frequently that they had seen classic plays hundreds of times. Thus, they meticulously recorded the different casts, the various performances by each actor, and the distinctive artistic styles of different productions.

When they saw Renly standing on the stage, it would be a bizarre and absurd comedy.

Renly raised his coffee cup as a gesture of respect. "Don't worry, I'll create a special invitation, sending it to both your house and mine to ensure everyone receives it."

He had never hidden his intentions. He would be straightforward and transparent. If he had the opportunity to perform in London's West End, he would strictly follow the etiquette of the aristocracy, sending formal invitations to his family and friends. However, whether they had the courage to attend was beyond his control.

He was somewhat curious about his parents' reactions when they received the invitations. That would surely be quite a sight. "Do you think I should submit it through Philip or hand it directly to George and Elizabeth?"

"Maybe you can give it to Arthur," Matthew suggested.

"No, giving it to Arthur would be too boring. I'd rather give it to Andy," Renly said eagerly, nodding seriously. "Well, it looks like I should call Andy first and formally bring up the matter." Even without many words, one could feel Renly's anticipation and excitement in his eyes.

"Before making that formal call, shall we discuss what we're having for lunch today?" The topic shifted entirely, and Renly began to chat enthusiastically. "First of all, I don't eat sandwiches. Secondly, I don't eat pizza. Thirdly, I don't eat vegetarian food. So, what do you suggest? And, wait, don't you have to continue working in the afternoon? How much time can you spare for a working lunch?"

Matthew had initially planned to have a simple sandwich for his working lunch, but that plan clearly wouldn't do now. "It depends on how much money is left in your bank account. Let's see if we can afford a French feast." Matthew said with a straight face, but there was a hint of playful glint in his eyes.

"A French feast is no problem at all. We can fly directly to Paris and enjoy authentic home-cooked dishes there. That's the real luxury. Andrew does this often, and I strongly suspect he keeps a private plane at LaGuardia Airport," Renly said, supporting his chin with his hand as he spoke solemnly. Matthew could only relent, "Should we give Andrew a call? Borrow his private plane?"