Anyone who saw such a beauty would stop and look for a while, and Matthew was no exception. Using the bookshelf in between as cover, his gaze followed the short-haired woman as she moved. She was beautiful and was browsing a bookstore; she could be considered one of those legendary intellectual beauties, right?
Just as that thought surfaced, Matthew's eyes suddenly widened. The woman seemed to have found a book she liked and stopped in front of a shelf. With lightning speed, she pulled out two colorful 32mo-sized books and stuffed them into her handbag.
Matthew blinked hard, as if unable to believe what he had just seen. Such a slender, delicate, and pure-looking woman was actually a thief?
The short-haired woman stuffed the books into her bag and continued browsing as if nothing had happened. Matthew thought she might just be putting them in her bag temporarily and would take them out to pay at the register. He quickly selected a few books about acting and moved to the aisle where the woman was, only to find she was already walking toward the checkout counter.
"If she's a thief, it'll be quite a scene if she gets caught!"
Driven by curiosity, Matthew followed. Passing the shelf where the woman had taken the books, he took a quick look; sure enough, there were two empty spots.
Just as he turned out of the aisle, the short-haired woman walked past the register with her handbag in a carefree manner. The two female clerks behind the counter even greeted her warmly, appearing to know her. The woman nodded and walked straight out the door.
Matthew couldn't help but shake his head. He walked over and placed his books on the counter without saying a word. After paying, he left. Although the incident surprised him, he felt no need to meddle in other people's business.
To save on expenses, he didn't call a taxi and took a bus home instead. Although the small rented apartment was old, it meant he had a fixed place to stay in Los Angeles.
Back home, sitting on the sofa that had already collapsed in the middle, Matthew picked up one of the books he had bought and started flipping through it. It was "Film Acting: A History and Guide to Acting for the Camera" by O'Brien. He read for a while, but just like when he looked at the contract earlier, he found reading it difficult... Bang—
Matthew closed the book. Improving his reading ability was an urgent priority. After thinking for a moment, he ran downstairs to a newsstand and bought two newspapers. Compared to the heavy volumes full of technical jargon, newspapers were easier to understand.
After finishing a tabloid, he set a task for himself: he had to set aside time to read every day to improve this most basic skill. Once his reading reached a certain level, he would also need to practice his writing skills.
Even if he couldn't become a Hollywood Star, he couldn't remain semi-illiterate.
There was also the matter of acting school, which was also very important, but he couldn't rush it. Matthew had checked over the past few days; if he wanted further study, there were countless acting training institutions in Los Angeles. These included professional acting schools, short-term training classes, temporary acting courses at various universities, Broadway acting lectures, and so on. For example, the Hollywood Film and Theater Academy offered a six-month course with classes five times a week.
The problem was that these all cost a fortune. With the possibility of breach of contract penalties hanging over him at any time, he was temporarily unable to pay such a large fee.
Just as he thought about the previous breach of contract, his phone rang.
Matthew put it to his ear, and a very professional voice came through, "Hello, is this Mr. Matthew Horner?"
"It is." He had a bad feeling.
"Mr. Horner, I am Attorney Chris Walker," the man introduced himself. "Legal counsel for the 'forbidden tarot' production crew. I am officially notifying you on behalf of the crew and their production company that you have violated the contract signed by both parties..."
He then rattled off a long list of technical jargon and contract clauses, which ultimately boiled down to one sentence: "You need to pay fifty thousand dollars in liquidated damages! Please provide your address; I will send you a formal lawyer's letter this afternoon..."
"Hello? Hello?" Matthew suddenly shouted loudly.
"What did you say? I can't hear you clearly? Damn phone, it's acting up again!"
After saying that, he directly pulled off the back cover of the phone and removed the battery.
This was a desperate measure that could only solve the immediate emergency. When that previous guy signed with the 'forbidden tarot' crew, he had left all his real information. It was almost the new century; in an information-based society like America, as long as the other party pursued the breach of contract, he probably wouldn't even be able to run back to the Texas countryside.
"Fifty thousand dollars is not a small amount," Matthew frowned. "Should I find a lawyer too?"
If he found a lawyer, it would be easier to reach an out-of-court settlement, and he might not need to pay as much as fifty thousand dollars, but lawyer fees were also a significant expense.
Matthew knew very well that in the end, it was a matter of money. If he had money, none of these problems would be problems at any more.
When would he be able to be as carefree as Jonny Lee Miller?
Thinking of this, Matthew put down his phone, took the newspaper and the book, and began to read seriously again. If he didn't even have the ability, he wouldn't be able to seize an opportunity even if it appeared before his eyes.
He read in the apartment for several hours, went out for a run in the afternoon, and grabbed a quick dinner. Matthew headed out again; currently, acting could only be called a part-time job, while his regular profession was a driver for Red Penguin Company.
He went to Lister to pick up his work assignment and car keys, endured the sarcasm of the Black man and the fat man, and waited for a while in the driver's lounge. Matthew then set off in the ford van, heading first to Westwood to pick someone up and then taking them to nearby Orange County.
After picking up the blonde girl named Rachel from Westwood, Matthew drove onto the highway toward Orange County. Just like last time, the girl was bright and cheerful, talking incessantly from the seat beside him.
"Hey handsome, have you thought about it?" she said casually. "A company is urgently hiring male models lately; your conditions are very good."
Without even thinking, Matthew shook his head. "Not interested."
"The income from this job of yours is very low," Rachel said, taking out a mirror to touch up her makeup. "Can it support you?"
"I found another part-time job," Matthew said.
Rachel looked at him curiously. "It's not that acting thing you mentioned last time, is it?"
"Yeah!" Matthew nodded. "I've already landed a job with a production crew."
"Pfft!" Rachel waved her hand. "One of those background extras with no lines?"
"Yeah!" Matthew replied.
Rachel snorted and added, "When I first arrived in Los Angeles over a year ago, I got several roles like that. They're useless; there's no opportunity there."
She shrugged and said in a light tone, "For a long time, I was so desperate I wanted to kill myself."
"You don't look like it," Matthew said, glancing at her quickly.
It was hard to imagine such a bright and cheerful girl wanting to commit suicide.
"You don't know the kind of despair when you're so poor you can't even pay rent or afford food..." Rachel stopped smiling. "The despair of looking up and finding no way out."
"I've experienced it," Matthew smiled. "I've thought about suicide too."
"Oh?" Rachel smiled again. "Why didn't you do it?"
"I couldn't find a suitable way," Matthew said half-seriously. "Using a knife would hurt, jumping in a river is too wet, using acid would ruin my clothes, taking pills causes spasms, guns are illegal, hanging is unreliable, and gas smells too bad. So, I figured I'd just stick it out and live."
"You... haha..."
Rachel pointed at Matthew and laughed.
Just like last time, the two of them chatted to pass the time. After getting off the highway, Matthew picked up three other girls in Orange County and delivered them to their destination before dark.
It was also a mansion, but the difference was that this time it seemed to be a legitimate party.
However, none of that was his business. As usual, he parked the car in an out-of-the-way spot outside the mansion, reclined the seat, and went to sleep. When dawn broke the next day, he drove the exhausted girls back one by one.
After finishing work and before he even got home, Matthew received a call from his Agent, Dennis Coulter, telling him to report to the production crew that afternoon.
Matthew rushed home, caught up on some sleep, tidied himself up until he looked quite sharp, ate a quick meal, and hurried to Universal Studios. When he arrived, it wasn't even noon yet.
At the entrance of the soundstage, Matthew saw that fat figure again. Unlike their last meeting, Dennis Coulter looked elated, as if some good news had come his way.
"Let's go..." He beckoned to Matthew. "We're going in."
The two of them spoke a few words to the staff guarding the soundstage entrance and entered the office area they had visited before. Since it was lunchtime, most people had gone to eat, and the office area was empty. Matthew and Dennis Coulter sat on a bench in front of the casting director's office and waited patiently.
"Remember!" Dennis Coulter seemed to be in a genuinely good mood and specifically instructed Matthew, "Do exactly what you're told during filming. Whatever you do, don't take any initiative."
He waved his hand. "You're just background filler. Normally, just standing still is enough. It's not difficult."
Matthew nodded. "I'll remember!"
This was the first step in accumulating experience and credentials. He had arrived in Los Angeles knowing almost nothing; with experience and credentials, his chances of landing roles in the future would be higher.
"I'm going out to use the restroom. You wait here; don't wander off."
If it weren't for this stepping stone working and getting him in with the casting director Rubin, Dennis Coulter wouldn't have bothered saying all this. "Other extras might show up in a bit; don't get into any conflicts with them."
Matthew nodded, and Dennis Coulter turned and walked away.
Sitting there with nothing to do, Matthew couldn't help but fantasize about what his first time on set that afternoon would be like. Before long, the sound of high heels clicking on the floor came from the other end of the corridor, and then a tall, thin girl rounded a corner.
Matthew glanced over and saw Angelina Jolie with her hair dyed blonde. Thinking she was coming to see him, he quickly stood up and waved his hand.
To his surprise, Angelina Jolie didn't even look at him; she pushed open a door and barged right in.
"Why? Why scrap yesterday's footage?" Angelina Jolie's angry roar immediately rang out. "And you're cutting my scenes too?"
A cold, ethereal female voice followed, "I am the producer. These are normal filming adjustments!"