Walking from the center of his seat towards the middle aisle, everyone stood up, applauding, smiling, or reaching out friendly hands to congratulate him. The short aisle seemed to stretch endlessly, a surging crowd filling every corner of his vision—bright lights blurring the scene into a cascade of dazzling dots, losing focus and leaving only a billowing surge of heat, an uninterrupted mist.
His footsteps felt as if they tread on cotton, his mind turned blank, relying solely on instinct to move forward, towards that spotlight. This path had been so long, from a meticulously planned childhood in the previous life, through adolescence devoid of laughter, play, or leisure, navigating a bedridden and dreary life of inactivity, traversing a closed and dark tunnel after death, then a structured childhood in this life, followed by an unbridled, soaring youth, and the crossroads of rebellion against his parents...
He had finally arrived here.
"You can only rely on yourself, no one can help you. Dreams and freedom are the most useless things."
"You're not a genius, it's just an illusion. You're just one of the countless ordinary people, don't daydream, it'll only make your life more miserable."
"You have fifteen minutes to rest. Don't play with those kids, they won't do you any good. If you want, you can sit down and read a book to relax your mind."
"Making a fool of yourself. Being an actor is not a dream, it's not even a profession; it's a disgrace to the family."
"...It's useless! It's not allowed! Reject! Impossible!"...
The icy and cruel words pierced him like sharp blades, leaving him bruised and battered.
Two lifetimes—so lengthy it felt like an endless nightmare, yet so brief like a grain of sand in the ocean. Step by step, he was like Sisyphus from Greek mythology, pushing a heavy boulder, carrying one denial after another. Relentlessly persistent, recklessly obstinate, foolishly incomprehensible, drenched in blood, repeating, then repeating again, all the while hoping that someday he'd be able to push that boulder to the summit. The journey was filled with stumbling steps, with the edge of a knife stained with blood.
It wasn't about proving himself, merely about proving that life was not just brutal reality, but also foolish dreams; proving that life had other meanings beyond "survival".
He knew the Emmy Award was just the first step, a negligible first step. Yet, he had finally taken that step, hadn't he? Waiting through two lifetimes, it had been so long.
"Congratulations!" Tina Fey approached, giving Renly a polite hug, then taking a step back, her face radiating a brilliant smile. She once again sincerely said, "Congratulations!"
Renly took the trophy in both hands and carefully examined it. A woman of slender form embraced an atom, and the Muse, with wings unfurled, soared freely in the shifting light. A year ago, the ultimatum from his parents echoed in his mind: "Foolish persistence." Emotions surged suddenly and unexpectedly, and the trophy's gleaming gold blurred his vision, casting a golden halo over the world.
Raising his head, within the haze of light, the applause gradually subsided, yet the dazzling stars continued to gleam. He parted his lips, but his voice caught in his throat, only a vague syllable choking out. The emotions surged fiercely, irrationally smashing forth, overwhelming him, even Renly himself felt somewhat at a loss. The poise he had cultivated over twenty years seemed to retreat, and his rationality surrendered entirely.
All of this was too unfamiliar.
He thought he'd be rational and composed, thought he'd exhibit gentlemanly charm, thought he'd humorously control the audience, thought he'd casually, confidently accept the award as if everything was expected. He thought he wouldn't care.
But imagination was always just imagination. When things actually happened, when he found himself amidst it, all those anticipations were shattered in an instant. It was as if a tornado had arrived, recklessly charging through, where all common sense, laws, and rules ceased to apply.
His right hand clenched slightly, the icy metallic sensation now warmed by his palm's heat. His strong heart thudded fiercely against his chest, as if it might explode into a burst of flowers at any moment. The sensation of floating lightly off the ground left him disoriented.
A deep breath. "...This is truly a surprise and an accident. I think I need some time to calm down properly, or my tears will start flowing." Renly lightly teased, yet the thick nasal tone betrayed the tears he was holding back. He couldn't help but laugh softly at himself. He was truly bedraggled. Laughter echoed from the audience.
"Al, I'm sorry, it's me standing here." Renly looked to the front row at Al Pacino, nodded, and Al chuckled at these words. He shook his head, raising his middle finger in jest. Nearby guests caught sight of this and erupted into laughter. "Hoo, I'm not quite sure what to say at this moment because my mind is entirely blank. I can't even recall the name of the series. God, I have a whole bunch of people to thank. Now I finally understand why everyone prepares acceptance speeches in advance."
Amidst self-deprecation was a hint of irony. Many guests whistled in agreement, the atmosphere much more jovial than anticipated. "Um...I'm not a genius." This was the sole thought echoing in Renly's mind, George's cruel conclusion. He thought he didn't care, but deep within, it remained like a nightmare, never disappearing, persisting until today. "But I've always been working hard." Renly's slightly trembling voice gradually stabilized. That powerful self-assurance returned to his chest. His right hand instinctively clenched, the metallic sensation and weight of the trophy slowly grounding his previously erratic form back onto the floor.
The sense of solid ground beneath his feet was reassuring.
"So, thank you Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg for giving me this opportunity to perform. Thank you to my fellow cast members, like Rami and James, for guiding me. Of course, thank you Emmy Awards for affirming me." Only three simple words of gratitude, but the weight was extraordinary. At this moment, Renly finally understood why award speeches were always so long, and why they thanked a host of names they likely didn't even know. Behind the glamorous façade of actors lay a plethora of unsung heroes working behind the scenes.
The surging emotions filled him with a thousand feelings. "I still remember when I was filming the first scene, I made a focusing error and stared directly at the camera, which caused a mistake. It was truly a rookie-level embarrassing blunder." Renly openly admitted, leaving the audience in shock, while the production crew of "The Pacific" burst into laughter. Whistles and cheering abounded, causing Renly to burst into laughter himself.
"You can imagine how hard the crew worked to ensure quality. So here, there are truly many people to thank, but I've decided to express my gratitude one by one after I return, because our crew is truly massive, and I'm not quite sure when I'll finish... I can already feel the sigh of relief from the live director." Renly's jest caused applause to erupt once more. He unconsciously complained about the issue of lengthy award speeches, and this quick-witted humor genuinely won admiration. "So... thank you, thank you for allowing Sisyphus to understand that dreams can eventually be realized."
With that, Renly took a step back, politely nodded to the crowd, then turned around, perplexedly searching for the exit where the emcee and Tina, who had been waiting backstage, smiled at his bewildered expression. The emcee stepped forward first, guiding Renly and Tina off the stage.
Backstage, the clamor, the fervor, the lights all seemed to dim. People offered polite smiles, congratulating Renly, but that was the extent of it. Tina patted Renly's shoulder once more, saying with a cheerful smile, "Well done. Enjoy the night." Then, she turned and left.
The joy of winning, the frenzy of self-affirmation, the exuberance of realizing the first step of a dream... in this moment, they gradually subsided.
It was just the award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Miniseries or Movie category, and the Emmy Awards were just a beginning. "The Pacific" was just a beginning. Apart from himself, no one would care because life had to go on, work had to continue, exploration had to continue. On the path of acting, countless awards lay ahead; more importantly, the journey of honing acting skills was unrelated to awards. It was a competition against oneself, and any complacency would only halt progress in the exploration of art.
Looking down at the trophy in his hands once more, joy remained, but the surging sensation began to return to tranquility. That elation beyond control, gradually transformed into the motivation to keep striving, morphed into the impetus for ceaseless exploration. Experiences from two lifetimes made it clear to him that this award, far from undermining, only strengthened his confidence and courage. No one could stop him, not even George and Elizabeth.
On the stage, the awards ceremony continued, each major award finding its rightful recipient one by one. However, the follow-up to the shocking upset was just beginning to ferment.
Every year brought forth newcomers, and this year was no exception. Yet, this year's underdog story was particularly striking. It wasn't Bryan Cranston achieving a three-peat, it wasn't Jim Parsons winning his first Emmy, nor was it the breakthrough sensation "Modern Family". It was the virtually unknown Renly Hall, who triumphed over the favorite Al Pacino.
Wait, who's that? The same perplexity was etched on everyone's faces. "What did I miss?"