Hiding in a booth in the lounge area, Matthew stared intently at Michael Sheen, and immediately noticed that the man had undergone a huge transformation from when he went in, especially his physique and walking style; he was practically a different person.
When he went in, Michael Sheen was tall and walked with long strides.
Coming out of the elevator, Michael Sheen was slightly hunched over with his butt sticking out, and as he moved his feet, his two legs formed a very awkward outward-pointing stance.
It wasn't the first time Matthew had seen someone walk in such a strange way; once, when he was working on a construction site on the other side of the Pacific, a co-worker who had been poked in the butt by rebar walked exactly like that.
"Did he hurt his butt?" Matthew shivered, quickly stopping his wild thoughts. The image that had just flashed through his mind was too terrifying; he didn't even want to think about it. He muttered, "Sacrificing for art."
"Sir, you..."
A voice reached him, and Matthew quickly looked. It turned out Michael Sheen had walked into the hotel lobby, and his peculiar way of walking attracted a server, who was very conscientious, "Do you need help?"
"No! No!" Michael Sheen waved his hands frantically, afraid the other person would notice something amiss, "I'm fine."
He walked step by step towards the hotel entrance, eventually exiting through the revolving doors.
Matthew changed seats again to avoid Michael Sheen seeing him through the glass curtain wall, but his eyes remained on him.
He saw Michael Sheen cross the road to the other side, lean against a lamppost, and turn his head as if to look at his butt, his face showing a strange expression, appearing both in pain and excited.
Matthew scratched his head, certain that something had definitely happened between Michael Sheen and Martin Jackson.
"The pain is probably physical," he guessed wildly, "the excitement is for the role."
Presumably, Michael Sheen had received a promise from Martin Jackson to be the male lead in his music video.
"is this the shortcut to success in Hollywood?"
With a sigh, Matthew averted his gaze from Michael Sheen. For a moment, his mood was low. Perhaps if he toiled in Los Angeles for several years without finding an opportunity to rise, he might also make a similar choice... "No!" Matthew then shook his head, "Absolutely not!"
He knew he wasn't nobler than Michael Sheen, perhaps even more despicable and calculating, but this kind of thing was definitely not in the realm of compromise and acceptance. He wanted fame and fortune, and his personal bottom line was very, very low, but he still had some limits. If he had to choose between selling his butt and being impoverished, he would rather be impoverished.
As for noble morals, if you're in the entertainment industry and still adhere to that, you deserve to never make it big.
"Despicable people are advancing along the path to fame, while noble people die at the starting line..."
Matthew mumbled to himself, then turned to look at Michael Sheen again, but his figure was no longer on the other side of the street.
The lamplight fell, illuminating the path ahead. Michael Sheen leaned against a shop's glass curtain wall, his butt slightly protruding, taking slow, awkward outward-pointing steps as he moved forward.
He walked with great difficulty; let alone walking, even standing still, a tearing pain would shoot through his backside, giving him an urge to see a proctologist.
But he couldn't go; such an injury was truly difficult to speak of.
The pain, however, did not depress him. Amidst the fiery agony, a smile of excitement always hung on Michael Sheen's lips.
Director Martin Jackson had already promised him the male lead role in Britney Spears' music video!
This was what he wanted.
Michael Sheen leaned against another lamppost, looking up at the sky, seeing light emerge from the deep darkness.
Although the excitement couldn't suppress the intense pain in his butt, he felt it was all worth it, and even had a secret joy in his heart.
The unfortunate thing was that with so many people coming and going, he didn't know a single one, and his excitement and joy couldn't be shared.
Michael Sheen had endured so many years, only to wait for such an opportunity. He desperately wanted the whole world to know that he was going to film a music video with Britney Spears, that he was going to become famous!
Suddenly, a face flashed before Michael Sheen's eyes—the person who called himself a friend but refused to help him!
"Matthew Horner, I'm getting the male lead!"
Thinking of the rejection he faced on the set of 'Gladiator,' he felt a sense of satisfaction, as if a great wrong had been avenged, "I'm going to beat you and get the male lead!"
Then he frowned, because Matthew Horner didn't know yet.
Instantly, that sense of satisfaction vanished without a trace.
Michael Sheen thought for a moment, then took out his phone and dialed Matthew's number. It rang for a while before someone picked up.
"is that you, Matthew?" His tone was much higher than usual, "What are you doing?"
"On my way home." Matthew's voice came through the receiver, "Where are you, Mike?"
"I'm out strolling!" Michael Sheen planned to tell Matthew the news in person, wanting to see his expression, "Are you free tomorrow? I'll treat you to lunch."
"Tomorrow?" The person on the other end seemed to be considering, and after a while, said, "Alright, I don't have class tomorrow. Which restaurant should we go to?"
Michael Sheen had thought of it on the spur of the moment and hadn't considered the restaurant, so he had to say, "I need to make a reservation. How about this, I'll call you again tomorrow morning."
In fact, he knew that what he needed most these two days was to rest on a soft cushion, waiting for the wound on his backside to heal, but he really couldn't resist the urge to show off in front of his competitor.
If he didn't show off in front of Matthew, how could he release the uncomfortable feeling he had bottled up from the 'Gladiator' set?
Hanging up the phone and putting it away, Michael Sheen endured the tearing pain, walking forward step by step, while also considering how to speak and how to show off. Of course, he wouldn't let Matthew connect it to his butt.
The night sky was pitch black, but the City of Angels was brightly lit. A taxi entered the outskirts of Westwood, stopping at a roadside bus stop. Matthew jumped out of the car. It was almost midnight, and he didn't go home immediately, planning to find a place to eat some late-night snack; his stomach had been growling all the way.
This wasn't a bustling commercial area, and most shops were closed. Matthew walked a bit further along the road and found a restaurant sign still lit, and besides English, there were prominent traditional Chinese characters on the sign!
"How come I never noticed there was a Chinese restaurant here before," Matthew muttered as he walked in, "I guess I haven't been around here much."
"Hello, welcome."
Greeting him was a blonde, blue-eyed waitress with a high nose and deep-set eyes. Matthew glanced at her, feeling a little awkward.
In a place like this, there should be a gentle and graceful Jiangnan woman standing there... The restaurant was large, with many customers inside. Matthew found a window seat and sat down. When the waitress came over, he ordered Kung Pao chicken and assorted fried rice, then waited patiently.
He specifically observed that the entire restaurant had a typical Chinese decor style. The tables and chairs were completely different from the sofa chairs in Western restaurants; they were traditional Chinese solid wood tables and chairs. Especially in the innermost part of the restaurant, there were several Eight Immortals tables with matching Grand Tutor chairs.
Matthew used to see these things often in his old hometown, but after he started working away from home, he didn't see them much anymore.
Although the hard, sturdy solid wood chair beneath his butt also felt quite authentic, Matthew was still a bit eager. In such a country, it was rare to see Eight Immortals tables and Grand Tutor chairs.
So, when the waitress came to serve the dishes, he pointed to an Eight Immortals table and asked, "Can I sit over there?"
"You can." The waitress's attitude was very good, "Please do."
She helped Matthew carry his food to the Eight Immortals table. Matthew then pulled out a Grand Tutor chair and sat down grandly, just like he used to as a child.
"Thank you." He specifically gave the waitress a little extra tip.
Eating here was more about satisfying the sentiment of memories.
Matthew began to eat. Although the Kung Pao chicken and assorted fried rice had been Westernized to adapt to the market, they still carried a somewhat familiar taste, which greatly stimulated his appetite.
However, before he had even finished half a bowl of rice, Matthew felt uncomfortable in his butt. The chair beneath him was too hard, and having not sat on such a chair for too long, it inevitably felt a bit poky.
He shook his head, picked up his spoon, and was about to continue eating when he suddenly remembered Michael Sheen inviting him to dinner... After wolfing down the rest of his meal, Matthew took out his phone and dialed Michael Sheen's number. The call was answered quickly.
"is something up, Matthew?"
Matthew said directly, "Mike, didn't you invite me to lunch tomorrow? I thought of a great Chinese restaurant. How about I treat you, and we go have Chinese food together?"
There was a pause on the other end, then a voice came through, "Alright, see you tomorrow noon."
"Then you come to Westwood tomorrow." Matthew gave the restaurant address, "We'll meet at the restaurant at eleven-thirty."
Michael Sheen readily agreed. Matthew put away his phone, and after paying, he specifically went to the front desk and reserved an Eight Immortals table, preparing to treat Michael Sheen to Chinese food tomorrow.
After sorting everything out, he left the restaurant and returned to his apartment. After showering, he lay down but couldn't sleep; his mind was entirely focused on how to get the male lead role in the music video. He finally started to get some ideas around three in the morning, and then he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning after waking up, Matthew followed his plan of morning exercise, reading the newspaper, and studying, not wasting a single moment, and not relaxing or resting just because he was hosting a lunch.
He knew his starting point was too low and his abilities were lacking, so he had to work hard.
It wasn't until eleven o'clock that he put down his book, changed into a formal suit, and left for the Chinese restaurant. Unlike last night, the restaurant had a large lunch crowd. It wasn't even peak dining time yet, and more than half of the seats were occupied.
"I made a reservation last night," Matthew told the waitress. The waitress checked with the front desk, then led Matthew to the same Eight Immortals table from last night and asked, "Are you ready to order now?"
Matthew pointed outside, "I'm still waiting for someone. I'll call you when I need to order."
The waitress left, and Matthew patiently waited for Michael Sheen to arrive.