The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood! Chapter 38

After circling the Red Penguin Services office a few times without finding any trace of Matthew, Michael headed to a nearby bar. He vaguely remembered Matthew mentioning that he and some of the other drivers would go there for a drink when business was slow at night.

Michael waited in line to get into the bar, then made his way to the wide counter. He found a high stool, sat down, and ordered a beer. Taking a sip, his eyes scanned the room, packed with young men and women, but he couldn't spot a familiar face anywhere.

The bar was a bit stuffy from the poor air circulation, so Michael set down his glass and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing his impressive pectoral muscles.

The fact that he had made it to the second round of auditions for Britney's music video was proof enough that he was every bit as well-built as Matthew.

"Money's on the counter," the man on the high stool next to him said to the bartender, leaving a bill and getting up to leave. Michael turned his head to watch him go, noticing that the man hadn't taken the newspaper he'd left on the bar.

The man clearly didn't want the paper and headed for the exit without a backward glance.

The bar's dim lighting illuminated the pages of the newspaper. Michael was about to look away when he noticed that the man in the photograph looked somewhat familiar. He quickly reached for the paper, pulling it closer to take a look, just as a throbbing pain flared up in his backside again.

The man in the photograph was, of course, Matthew Horner, and he was holding a very famous young woman in his arms—Britney Spears.

"Britney Spears in Love with a Poor Boy from Texas..."

Suddenly, he was consumed by a furious sense of injustice, as if something that should have been his, and his alone, had been stolen from him.

He should have been the male lead in her video, the one making headlines, the one who became famous, the one who hooked up with Britney! All of it should have been his!

"Matthew Horner..." Michael's voice was laced with pure hatred as he fiercely crumpled the newspaper in both hands, twisting it into a mangled wad. "This is all your fault, you bastard!"

He crushed the newspaper into a ball, tossed it carelessly under the counter, then picked up his glass and took a long gulp of beer.

Michael slammed the glass down. For a moment, his emotions surged, and the words he'd been bottling up burst out: "I'm going to be a star, dammit!"

At his outburst, the bald man sitting nearby turned his head, his attention immediately drawn to Michael's appearance.

"Hey, handsome."

Suddenly, Michael heard a man's voice from behind him. "Care to buy me a drink?"

Michael turned his head to see a long-haired man approaching. He was taller and looked stronger than Michael, and something about him felt... off.

The long-haired man pulled up a high stool and sat beside Michael, his gaze lingering on his toned chest muscles. "Want to hang out after this?" he asked.

Michael immediately understood what was happening and shot him down with disgust. "You've got the wrong guy. I'm not gay."

"No?" The man was clearly unconvinced. He suddenly reached out and touched Michael's rear. "I saw you when you walked in. I can tell you've only recently lost your virginity."

The comment definitely hit a nerve. Michael jumped to his feet. "Go to hell!"

Despite his harsh words, he clearly didn't want a fight. He threw a bill on the counter for the bartender, turned, and headed for the exit. Seeing Michael's irritation, the tall, long-haired man didn't press the issue.

The bald man from before, however, got up and followed him.

Once outside, Michael felt indescribably dejected. As he walked, he found himself subconsciously glancing at his own rear, wondering: was his walk really that strange?

"Hey," a voice called out from behind him. "Wait up!"

Michael turned to find the middle-aged bald man following him. Thinking he'd run into another gay man, anger and disgust flared in his eyes.

The bald man seemed to guess what Michael was thinking and introduced himself as he caught up. "I'm Morris. I'm an agent."

"An agent?" Michael's attitude did a complete one-eighty. He still hadn't found a new agency since being released from his long-term contract with the Angel Acting Agency.

"Hi," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Michael. An actor."

"I know." The bald man shook Michael's hand. "I've seen you on set before," he murmured. "You're a promising actor. It's a shame I missed my chance, or I would have signed you myself. Never thought I'd run into you here tonight."

As he spoke, the bald man took out his agent ID and handed it to Michael. Michael took it and glanced over it; it was an official license issued by the proper guild.

"So, what do you want from me?" Michael asked, handing the ID back.

Morris looked Michael up and down. "You have a great look," he said. "Perfect for a role I'm casting."

Michael was at an all-time low, the bleakest point of his career so far, so when he heard Morris's words, he couldn't help but ask, "What kind of role?"

"Here's the deal," Morris began to explain. "The agency I work for has a package deal with a production company."

"What production company? What's the project?" Michael asked, his interest piqued.

Morris didn't answer directly, instead offering a classic Hollywood response: "There's a confidentiality clause. I can't discuss the details until you're involved."

Michael nodded, not pressing further. After all, that was a common line in Hollywood.

Morris was a smooth operator. "Right now," he continued, "the production is looking for a handsome, charismatic guy for a supporting role."

He looked Michael over again. Michael quickly puffed out his chest and held his head high, but the posture only made his backside jut out at an unnatural, slightly odd angle.

Morris repeated, "You have a great look."

"I think so too," Michael stated confidently.

"You're a perfect fit for the supporting role I was talking about." Morris smiled. "Do you have an agent? Are you under a long-term contract with an agency?"

Michael quickly shook his head. "No."

"That's great!" Morris clapped his hands in excitement.

He looked at Michael and said, "The role I'm offering isn't a demanding one."

Hearing this, Michael felt a little more grounded; an important role wouldn't just fall into his lap out of nowhere.

After all, if a role wasn't demanding, it was probably insignificant.

Morris seemed to read his mind and added, "This supporting character basically has one scene—a very intense action sequence with the female lead."

"Really?" Michael's interest was piqued again. "An action scene?"

"Well..." Morris paused for a moment as if considering. "That's right. It's a film with elements of love, romance, and action."

"Sounds great." Michael could see an opportunity here.

"It's getting late." Seeing his target was on the hook, Morris pulled out a business card and handed it to Michael. "Here's my card. If you're interested, call this number and come by my agency tomorrow. We can discuss the details then."

Michael took the card and carefully placed it in his pocket. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Morris," he said.

"Until tomorrow," Morris said with a wave, then walked off.

Michael remained standing there for a moment. He had just suffered a string of setbacks that had battered everything from his body to his confidence. But now, with a new opportunity before him, he couldn't help but feel that a bright future was once again beckoning.

And this time, there would be no scumbag like Matthew Horner pulling strings behind the scenes!

...

Matthew hadn't given Michael a second thought since the music video auditions ended. Michael had called him a few times, but Matthew didn't answer. It wasn't that he was afraid of Michael or felt ashamed; it was simply that Michael was part of his past. He needed to look forward—there were plenty of other people to overtake on the road ahead.

The scandal surrounding him and Britney blazed through the papers for three solid days. Not only was Matthew hounded by paparazzi, but he also landed on the front pages of numerous tabloids. His name was even mentioned in several major, influential national newspapers.

Compared to his previous anonymity, he had become an instant celebrity.

Three days later, Helen Herman returned to Los Angeles and immediately contacted Britney's manager and record label. After a meeting that lasted less than half an hour, the three parties quickly reached an agreement: they would hold a joint press conference on the day the music video shoot resumed in order to clear the air.

For Matthew, this was an excellent outcome. He had essentially traded nothing for a certain level of fame, which, as Helen pointed out, could help him land future roles.

After all, fame often translated to attention, and attention could, to some extent, be converted into revenue for investors.

Over those three days, Matthew visited Britney in the hospital. She recovered quickly, and by the fourth day, filming for the music video was back on schedule.