Chapter 307: The Young Hollywood Awards

As Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie left Los Angeles, the hype surrounding them finally subsided. In his spare time from preparations, Matthew Horner made a special visit to the Wells Gallery in Santa Monica's commercial district to see a joint exhibition of three renowned postmodern young painters.

Initially, he had wanted to invite James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, but they were too busy to make it, so he ended up going alone.

Wells Gallery, adorned with marble decorations, presented an artistic atmosphere, complete with a white marble arch at the entrance and a red carpet laid beneath it.

Such a high-end exhibition clearly had entry requirements. At the door, Matthew handed his invitation to the security staff, who then allowed him inside.

Inside, unlike the crowded and chaotic exhibitions he had imagined, the gallery was not very crowded and was extremely quiet. The attendees focused intently on the artworks, speaking in hushed tones to avoid disturbing others.

Even Matthew, who admitted his cultural literacy was not high, knew enough to observe basic etiquette in such a public setting.

He walked through the spacious foyer to a display area directly opposite the entrance, where three paintings hung. To his untrained eye, the paintings were incomprehensible, yet the people around him seemed thoroughly engrossed, some even lavishing praise. Matthew decided to feign appreciation as well.

The postmodern art was quite abstract, and after a while, he let his gaze wander around the room. He noticed that the exhibition had attracted many celebrities, including Leonardo DiCaprio in the left section and Julia Roberts just entering.

"Mr. Horner."

A polite voice came from behind him, "I'm glad to see you here."

Matthew turned and saw Robert Fernandez, the man who had sent him the invitation. He nodded slightly and greeted, "Hello."

Robert took a step forward and politely offered, "Would you like me to show you around? Some of these paintings..."

"Thank you, but no need," Matthew declined quickly, "I'll find you if I need help."

Robert stepped back, pointing towards the foyer, "I'll be over there if you need anything."

Matthew nodded, watching Robert walk away before he himself moved on.

He continued along the lengthy gallery, pausing occasionally at particularly vibrant works, though understanding them was still beyond him.

Eventually, Matthew stopped in front of a large oil painting. It wasn't one of the featured artists' works but seemed more like background decoration for the gallery. He had seen a print of this painting at Zack Snyder's home.

"Leonidas at Thermopylae."

A girl suddenly stood beside him, looking at the painting and speaking, "This is a work by Jacques-Louis David that took fourteen years to complete. The original is now in the Louvre in Paris."

She turned to him, her bright eyes locking on Matthew, and with an excited tone, she said, "Hello, Matthew, it's good to see you again."

Matthew turned to look and recognized her, responding, "Hello, Lily. You've grown taller."

This girl was Lily Collins, whom he had once rescued from Harvard-Westlake School.

"Really?" Lily seemed thrilled. "You noticed that?"

"Shh..." Matthew put a finger to his lips, gesturing for silence. Lily quickly covered her mouth with her hand, then whispered after a moment, "I got too excited seeing you, I forgot we're in a gallery."

She continued in a low voice, "I saw you from the corridor, recognized your silhouette, and had to come over. I didn't expect it to actually be you."

Matthew chuckled and looked around, asking, "Are you here by yourself?"

"Yes," Lily nodded eagerly. "My mom was supposed to come with me but had to attend to something last minute, so she sent me with the driver."

"Your mom?" Matthew was curious.

He could tell Lily was not from an ordinary family.

"My mother is the chairwoman of the Beverly Hills Women's Club," Lily explained.

Matthew could imagine that was not a small-time organization.

"Can we look around the exhibition together?" Lily asked, batting her eyes. "You're alone, right? So am I."

"Of course," Matthew agreed without hesitation. "I could use someone to help me understand these paintings."

Lily leaned in closer, almost whispering in his ear, "To be honest, I don't understand them either. I just thought it would be fun to come here."

Matthew laughed, "Then let's enjoy these incomprehensible artworks together."

Lily's smile brightened as she took his arm, calming her excitement before saying, "Let's go."

They continued forward, casually chatting as they looked at the paintings. Since neither of them had much appreciation for the art, their conversation took center stage.

"I've written you many letters, almost one every month," Lily confessed, her tone slightly reproachful. "But I've never received a reply."

Matthew

 responded apologetically, "Those letters are handled by my agency; they never actually reach me."

They reached the end of the corridor and entered a larger hall crowded with people. Deciding against joining the throng, they found a quiet corner to continue their chat.

"I know," Lily said. "It's the same with the fan letters my father receives. But I didn't have any other way to contact you."

During their walk, Matthew had learned from Lily that her father was the famous British singer Phil Collins, making Lily a genuine celebrity and heiress.

"It feels like something's missing when I can't reach you..." Lily seemed particularly disappointed.

"Here, Lily," Matthew said after a moment, pulling out a business card. "This has my phone number and private email. Don't call the number; I usually don't answer, but you can email me."

Lily's eyes widened with excitement, "Really? Can I?"

As someone passed by and glanced their way, Matthew saw more people entering the hall and continued, "Of course. But you should know, we're often busy and may not reply immediately."

"That's okay! Even an occasional reply would make me happy," Lily hurriedly assured.

Matthew smiled, "It's nice to meet you too. You're a lively girl."

Lily wrinkled her nose, "Of course, I'm practically a leader at school." She paused, remembering something, "You haven't had a movie out in a while. That last one, 'Dawn of the Dead,' was too scary. I couldn't watch it."

"My 'National Treasure' will be released during the Thanksgiving season," Matthew offered. "If you're interested, come to the premiere."

Lily eagerly agreed, "Yes, I'd love to."

As they talked about movies, Lily asked, "Matthew, are you attending the Young Hollywood Awards in July? 'Pirates of the Caribbean' got several nominations."

Matthew shook his head, "Disney hasn't informed me yet, so I'm not sure."

"That's too bad," Lily looked disappointed. "I'm writing a column for 'Elle Girl' magazine and will be covering the red carpet at the awards. It would be great to interview you there."

"It's possible I might attend," Matthew reassured her, then added in surprise, "You're writing for a magazine? That's impressive."

Lily shrugged modestly, "It's because of my parents' connections. Otherwise, who would know who Lily Collins is?"

"That's not entirely true," Matthew countered. "Think about it, 'Elle Girl' is a very prestigious magazine. Would they ask you to write for them if you weren't capable?"

"Uh..." Lily thought for a moment, then laughed, "You make a good point."

She reminded him, "If you do go to the Young Hollywood Awards, let me know in advance."

"I will," Matthew promised.

The Young Hollywood Awards, known as "The Oscars for Young Hollywood," had been a prominent event since the late 1990s, recognizing performers under 25 who made notable contributions to the film industry. It drew significant media attention each year.

'Pirates of the Caribbean' had received several nominations, but Disney might not value the award highly enough to attend.

Matthew also had to prepare for the shooting of 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and might not have time to attend just for Lily.

Lily gave her phone number to Matthew, and after he saved it, she was relieved.

Matthew put away his phone and was about to leave when a little girl wobbled towards them, followed by a tall woman calling for her to stop.

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