The conversation didn’t last long in the end, wrapping up in just under two hours, and Andy imdiately got busy. The first task was to find a place for Renly to move into; Andy hoped Renly could move within the next three days, at the latest, five.
After seeing Andy off, Renly didn’t linger in Pioneer Village but went straight ho. He wasn’t tired since he had slept almost the entire way on the plane, and his jet lag had mostly passed. However, after the long flight, his body still felt a bit off, with slight swelling in his feet. He figured so relaxation at ho would make him feel better by tomorrow.
When he opened the door, chaos greeted his eyes. His first thought was: had there been a break-in? But upon closer inspection, Renly dismissed that notion.
The sofa was piled with garbage—not only disposable cups and leftover cream but also vomit, emitting a foul stench. The coffee table in the centre of the living room was overturned, surrounded by all kinds of beer bottles reflecting sunlight in a riot of colours. A large amount of toilet paper dangled from the chandelier, and amidst it hung a string of colourful lace bras and panties, like a Christmas tree. The floor was sticky and wet, as though sothing had evaporated, leaving residue—Renly refused to think too hard about what liquid it might be. Not to ntion the torn toilet paper, cigarette butts, and pillow stuffing scattered all over the floor, making the place look like a post-apocalyptic battleground between cats and dogs.
This wasn’t the result of a burglary—it looked like the aftermath of a wild party.
Renly frowned slightly, already having a suspicion in his mind. He stepped forward, navigating through the trash, dodging broken bottles, and avoiding the floating underwear. He peeked into Chris Hemsworth’s room, which was wide open.
The wardrobe door hung loosely, barely attached, swaying pitifully. The mattress had been flipped, revealing the springs underneath. All the drawers were pulled out, and completely emptied. And right across the wall, in glaring red spray paint, was a huge “F*CK,” standing out prominently in the ssy room.
Clearly, the culprit had been found—Chris Hemsworth, his roommate.
No guessing needed—Chris had moved out. Just like Andy’s top priority today was to have Renly move, Fischer wouldn’t allow the future Thor to continue living in this neighbourhood. Moving out was inevitable. What surprised Renly, however, was how immature Chris had been, trashing the place before leaving like so irresponsible college frat boy.
If Renly rembered correctly, Chris was already twenty-seven years old this year.
Looking around at the chaos, Renly felt a bit exasperated. It wasn’t the cost of cleaning or repairs that bothered him; when they first signed the lease, Chris had left a month’s rent as a deposit, which was still in Renly’s account. Clearly, Chris had no intention of getting it back, so it would likely cover the costs. But Chris’s childish behaviour still left Renly unsure of how to react.
Looking again at the massive “F*CK” on the wall, Renly wondered: Was this a declaration of a breakup? A battle cry? Or perhaps a scornful sneer? Maybe it was just Chris’s way of saying goodbye to the apartnt, severing ties with his past before starting a new chapter of success? Of course, there was another possibility—Renly thought he shouldn’t overthink it—Chris might have just been too lazy to clean up, with no personal animosity involved.
Maybe it would make for an interesting conversation the next ti they t.
Chuckling, Renly shook his head and wheeled his suitcase back into his room. He called a 24-hour cleaning service and requested imdiate help, then went to take a shower. By the ti he finished, the cleaning company had already sent people over. The two staff mbers, clearly accustod to such scenes, quickly got to work.
Renly’s room had been locked, so it remained untouched, though a bit dusty from being left vacant for so long. Renly tidied up his room a little, paying no attention to the cleanup happening outside, and then lay down on his bed. He took out his laptop and began organizing the photos he’d taken during his recent trip.
Perhaps influenced by Edith, Renly had developed so photographer quirks—though he wasn’t at all professional. He didn’t like taking pictures of himself, preferring to photograph others or landscapes.
Sifting through his own photos was an enjoyable task. Each shot captured a mont in ti, a mory from the journey. To Renly, whether the photo looked good was one thing, but the mont preserved when the shutter clicked—that was the truly beautiful part.
Among the photos Renly was organizing, his favourite was undoubtedly one captured during a free solo climb. It was taken the day after he t Andre Hamilton and Paul Walker. Right before his climb, he saw a veteran climber on the rock face. In the photo, the climber is holding onto a rock with one hand, looking upward, searching for his next foothold. A faint halo of sunlight remains at the top of the cliff, while the entire rock surface is bathed in a deep blue hue. The direction the climber is gazing towards is where the sliver of light descends.
From a composition and lighting perspective, the photo wasn’t particularly remarkable, but Renly had a special fondness for it. In that photo, the climber’s complete focus, his passion for exploring nature, the determination to overco obstacles, and the seemingly distant and faint, yet unwavering, sunlight above—this was precisely why Renly had tried free solo climbing.
Renly began to wonder if he should find ti to visit the Grand Canyon National Park. It’s the best place in the world for free solo climbing. Not that he intended to try it himself—the difficulty level there was too high—but simply to observe, experience, and admire. Only when standing in nature does humanity beco truly humble.
At so point, Renly dozed off, leaning back on his pillow, with the laptop still resting on the blanket. After a while, the screen went dark on its own.
Renly slept deeply, feeling especially comfortable, until the ringing of his phone interrupted his rest. He turned over, covering his ears with the blanket to continue sleeping, but the phone’s persistent ringing didn’t give up, going off repeatedly for what felt like six or seven tis. Even Renly couldn’t tolerate it any longer. He fumbled for the phone on his bedside table and brought it to his ear while continuing to have his eyes closed. “Hello, this is Renly,” he mumbled.
“Renly, why didn’t you tell you scheduled a cleaning service?” Andy’s anxious voice ca through the other end. “You must know that this kind of thing is very private and important. Idle gossip usually cos from these people. If you need anything, call , and I’ll send soone over for you.”
Renly’s brain was still half-asleep, and he didn’t bother questioning how Andy knew about this. He figured Andy had probably bribed the security downstairs or one of his neighbours. “So, is sothing wrong?” Renly’s voice, thick with sleep, sounded nasal and raspy, carrying a lazy tone.
Andy paused for a mont, “Are you still asleep?” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Never mind, nothing’s wrong. I’ve already taken care of it. Just, next ti, give a heads-up before sothing happens, so I’m not caught off guard. In the future, when you have a publicist, make sure to tell them too…” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing Renly was still half-asleep and probably not listening.
After a brief pause, Andy continued, “I won’t ask why your place is a ss, but don’t forget, we’re supposed to go suit shopping today, right? We have an appointnt with the stylist at 10 a.m., and it’s already 8:45. You know New York traffic better than I do, so I’ll be waiting downstairs in 15 minutes.”
Andy waited for a response but heard none. “Renly?”
“Chris threw a party before he left, left a ss behind. If you’re curious.” Renly answered, making it clear he wasn’t the one responsible for the ss. “Fifteen minutes, no problem.”
“Renly, I…” Before Andy could say anything else, Renly had already hung up. Andy blinked at the phone in his hand, surprised by how quickly the call had ended. Wasn’t Renly supposed to be asleep?
Andy signalled his driver to head to Renly’s apartnt. After finding a parking spot, he waited. Exactly fifteen minutes later, at 9 a.m. sharp, Renly appeared at the entrance.
As soon as he got in the car, Renly’s first words were, “Do you have any breakfast?” After returning to the apartnt last night, Renly had slept through to the next morning, clocking more than fifteen hours of sleep, and now his stomach was growling, completely empty. He needed to eat sothing.
The question caught Andy off guard, his smile freezing for a mont before he responded. “If you want, we can stop for coffee and so donuts on the way.”
“No, I don’t eat in the car,” Renly declined with a smile. That wasn’t just because of his noble upbringing in this life—even in his previous life, Ding Yanan had been ticulous about Renly’s manners. Eating in the car was not only impolite but also bad for digestion. “How about this—when we get to the tailor shop, have them skip the coffee. I’d like a cup of hot milk and a couple of small biscuits, that’ll do.”
“You an, like British afternoon tea type of al?” Andy raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised.
Renly turned his head, “Why, is there a problem?” According to aristocratic etiquette, eating in a tailor’s shop was a no-no, but having so light refreshnts was different.
“No, it’s just that you’ve always seed so… Arican. Until now, I forgot you’re British,” Andy teased with a light chuckle.
T/N – I must say, I am kind of on a roll with all these chapters I am putting out…we shall see for how long this release speed is going tast.
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