The conversation didn't last much longer, concluding in less than two hours. Andy immediately got busy with various tasks after leaving. The first thing on his agenda was finding a house for Renly. He hoped that Renly could move within the next three days, at most five days.
After bidding Andy farewell, Renly didn't linger much in Village Vanguard and headed straight home. He wasn't particularly tired; he had slept almost the entire way on the plane, and his body had mostly adjusted to the time difference. However, after a long flight, his body still felt a bit out of sorts. His feet were slightly swollen. A bit of rest and relaxation at home today should have him feeling better by tomorrow.
As he pushed open his front door, a scene of chaos greeted his eyes. His first thought was: Has there been a break-in? However, upon closer inspection, Renly quickly dismissed that notion.
The sofa was piled with trash—disposable cups, cream residue, and even vomit, emitting an unpleasant odor. The coffee table in the center of the living room was overturned, surrounded by an assortment of beer bottles that refracted sunlight in various colors. Hanging down from the chandelier were numerous rolls of toilet paper, adorned with a string of lace bras and panties, resembling a colorful Christmas tree. The floor was damp and sticky, like traces left behind by evaporated liquid. Renly refused to think any further about what kind of liquid it might have been. Moreover, shredded toilet paper, cigarette butts, and pillow stuffing were strewn all over the floor, as if a garbage battle between cats and dogs had taken place.
This scene was certainly not the aftermath of a break-in. It looked more like a messy aftermath of a party.
Renly's brows furrowed slightly at the sight. One guess formed in his mind, prompting him to take steps forward, trampling over the litter, avoiding shattered glass bottles, and sidestepping airborne undergarments. He entered Chris's open room door.
The wardrobe door hung pitifully, swaying precariously. The mattress cover had been flipped over, revealing the springs beneath. All the drawers had been yanked open and emptied entirely. Across from him, the wall was painted with glaring red graffiti in large letters: "F*CK", strikingly vivid amidst the disarray.
Clearly, the culprit had been found—Chris Hemsworth, his roommate.
There was no need for speculation; Chris had moved out, just like Andy's first priority today was to make him move out. It was only natural that Feige wouldn't allow the future Thor to continue residing in this neighborhood. Moving out was expected, nothing unusual. However, Renly hadn't anticipated Chris being so juvenile—trashing the place before leaving, behaving like the immature teenagers in college fraternities.
If memory served right, Chris was already twenty-seven this year.
Looking at the mess before him, Renly felt a mix of exasperation and amusement. It wasn't because he was concerned about the cleaning and repair costs for the house. When they had initially signed the lease, Chris had left a month's rent as a deposit. That money was still in Renly's account, indicating Chris had no intention of claiming it back. Therefore, those expenses could be offset. Still, Chris's immature behavior left Renly somewhat unsure of how to judge it.
Once again, Renly glanced at the enormous "F*CK" graffiti on the wall. Was this a declaration of rupture, a declaration of war, or perhaps a disdainful scorn? Alternatively, it could be a farewell to this apartment, signifying a complete break from the past and the start of a new chapter. Of course, there was also the possibility that Renly thought he shouldn't jump to conclusions—maybe Chris was simply too lazy to clean up and had no intention of targeting him.
Perhaps, this could become a topic of conversation when they next met.
Chuckling and shaking his head, Renly pushed his luggage back into the room. He called the 24-hour door-to-door cleaning service and requested an immediate visit. Then, he took a shower. By the time he emerged from the shower, the cleaning crew had already arrived. Two workers entered the apartment and, accustomed to such scenes, quickly began cleaning.
Renly's room was locked, so it hadn't been affected. However, due to his prolonged absence, a layer of dust had accumulated. Renly briefly tidied up his room, paying no attention to the ongoing cleaning outside. He then lay down on his bed, took out his computer, and started organizing the photos from his recent travel shoot.
Perhaps influenced by Edith, Renly had a photographer's quirk, even though he wasn't a professional. He didn't like taking pictures of himself; he preferred capturing others or landscapes.
Sorting through the photos he had taken was an interesting task. Each photo captured a moment and a memory from the journey. To Renly, whether a photo looked good or not was one thing, but the moment frozen in time when the shutter was pressed was the most beautiful aspect.
Among the photos he was organizing, Renly's favorite was undoubtedly one taken during rock climbing—a shot of a seasoned climber. It was taken the day after he met Andrew Hamilton and Paul Walker. Before starting his own climb, he had seen an experienced climber on the rock face. In the photo, the climber was holding onto a rock with one hand, looking up to assess the situation. The sunlight atop the cliff had reduced to a faint halo, casting a blue hue across the entire rock surface. The direction the climber was looking was illuminated by a ray of light.
In terms of composition and lighting, the photo wasn't particularly outstanding. However, Renly was especially fond of it. Because in that photo, the focus, the enthusiasm for exploring nature, the determination to overcome challenges, and the faint but resolute ray of sunlight overhead—all embodied why Renly had decided to learn rock climbing.
Renly couldn't help but think that perhaps he should visit the Grand Canyon National Park at some point. It was the best place in the world for rock climbing. Not that he'd personally attempt it; the difficulty level there was too high. He would go to observe, appreciate, and admire. Only when standing amidst nature did humans truly become humble.
At some point, Renly drifted off, still leaning on the pillow. His computer lay on the bed, and after a while, it automatically went black.
Sleeping deeply, Renly was undisturbed until the phone's ringing interrupted his slumber. He rolled over and covered his ears with the blanket, attempting to return to sleep. However, the phone's insistent ringtone refused to give up. It persisted, ringing six or seven times. Even Renly couldn't tolerate it any longer. He fumbled on the nightstand, found the phone, put it to his ear, and then resumed sleeping. "Hello, this is Renly."
"Renly, you booked cleaners to come to your place. Why didn't you tell me?" Andy's voice sounded urgent from the other end. "You must know that this type of work is very private and quite important. Most of the rumors and gossip come from them. If you need help, call me. I'll arrange for specialized assistance to come over."
Renly's mind remained in a state of sleep, and he didn't bother to inquire how Andy had learned of all this. Andy probably had the security guards downstairs or the neighbors on his side. "Is something wrong now?" Renly's voice carried a pronounced nasal tone due to deep slumber, sounding husky and lazy.
Andy hesitated, "Are you still sleeping?" He paused slightly and chuckled, shaking his head. "Never mind, there's no issue now. I've already handled it. Just, next time, it's better to give me a heads-up about these things. Don't wait until something happens to tell me. I'll be caught off guard. And in the future, when you have a public relations person, it's better to inform them too..." His words trailed off as he realized Renly was asleep. He doubted Renly would pay attention to what he was saying in his current state.
After a brief pause, "Why was your place such a mess—I won't ask. But today, we're going shopping for suits. You haven't forgotten, right? We have an appointment with the stylist at ten in the morning. It's already 8:45 now. You know New York traffic better than I do. So, in fifteen minutes, I'll be waiting downstairs."
Andy waited for a response for a while but heard nothing. "Renly?"
"Chris threw a party before leaving and left a mess. In case you're curious," Renly answered. He wouldn't do something so juvenile. "Fifteen minutes from now, no problem."
"Ren—" Andy didn't have a chance to finish his sentence before Renly hung up. Andy looked at his phone, which was now playing a busy tone, blinked, and thought that Renly's reaction speed was exceptionally fast. Wasn't he supposed to be asleep?
Andy indicated that he was driving to Renly's apartment location. Upon arrival, he found a parking spot and waited. Exactly fifteen minutes later, at nine o'clock on the dot, Renly appeared at the entrance of the apartment building.
Once in the car, Renly's first question was, "Is there breakfast?" After returning to the apartment yesterday, he had fallen into a deep sleep until this morning. He had slept for over fifteen hours, and now his stomach was so empty he barely felt it. He needed to replenish his energy.
The question caught Andy off guard, and his smile was a bit stiff. After pausing for half a second, he replied, "If you want, we can get a coffee on the way and a few donuts?"
"No, I don't eat in the car." Renly politely declined with a smile. Not to mention the etiquette of the nobility in this life, even in his previous life, Ding Yanan had given Renly a quality education. Eating in the car wasn't just impolite; it was also bad for digestion. "Here's what we'll do: when we arrive at the clothing store, ask them not to serve coffee, but instead, bring a cup of hot milk and pair it with two biscuits. That should be fine."
"So, you mean the British afternoon tea model." Andy's lips twitched slightly, his tone somewhat surprised.
Renly turned his head back, "What's wrong? Is there anything inappropriate?" According to noble etiquette, dining in a clothing store was impossible, but tea and snacks were a different matter.
"No, it's just that you've always acted so... American. It's only now that I realize you're British." Andy teased with a light laugh.