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The Box Office King of Hollywood

Knock! Dang! Knock--   A sharp knock on the door suddenly rang in his ears, followed by a man's urgent voice coming through the door, "Matthew, why did you kick the makeup artist out? The director and the female lead are already in place, the entire crew is waiting for you, the male lead, you still have fifteen minutes!" ----------------------- It's 1 chapter per day at 1 p.m. (Arizona) in every novel I upload. 3 daily chapters in each novel on patreon! p@treon.com/INNIT ----------------------- DISCLAIMER The story belongs entirely to the original author.

INIT · Prominente
Zu wenig Bewertungen
198 Chs

Chapter 9: The Roar of Anger

The second chapter is here, where are the votes and favorites?

Anyone who saw such a beautiful woman would pause to look a little longer, and Matthew was no exception. With bookshelves as a screen, his gaze followed the short-haired woman as she moved. She was attractive and in a bookstore—could she be the intellectual beauty spoken of in rumors?

Just as this thought surfaced, Matthew's eyes widened. The woman seemed to have found the books she liked and, with a quick movement that betrayed no hesitation, pulled two colorful paperback books from the shelf and stuffed them into her handbag.

Matthew squinted, hardly believing what he saw. Could such a delicate, exquisite-looking woman really be a thief?

After stashing the books, the woman nonchalantly continued browsing through the bookstore. Matthew considered the possibility that she might just be placing the books in her bag temporarily and would pay for them at the cashier. Deciding to see how it played out, he quickly picked several books about acting and moved toward her aisle, only to see her heading towards the checkout.

"If she is a thief and gets caught, that would be something to see!"

Curiosity piqued, Matthew followed her. As he passed by the shelf where she had taken the books, he specifically noted two gaps where the books had been.

As he came around the end of the aisle, the short-haired woman, bag in hand, breezed past the cashiers. The two women behind the counter greeted her warmly, as if they knew her, and the woman nodded and walked straight out the door.

Matthew shook his head, set his selections on the counter, paid without a word, and left. Though the incident intrigued him, he didn't feel it was his place to intervene.

To save money, he took the bus home instead of calling a taxi. His small, old apartment in Los Angeles, while modest, represented a stable foothold in the city.

Back home, Matthew sank into the sagging sofa and picked up one of the books he'd bought, "Acting for the Camera: Techniques and History" by O'Brien. Reading proved challenging, much like when he was trying to understand his contract...

Bang—

Matthew closed the book. Improving his reading skills was imperative. After some thought, he went down to the newsstand and bought a couple of newspapers. Newspapers were less filled with jargon than the dense books and would be somewhat easier to understand.

After finishing a tabloid, he set a daily goal to dedicate time for reading to enhance this fundamental skill. Once he managed to improve his reading, he planned to work on his writing skills.

Even if he couldn't make it as a Hollywood star, he refused to remain semi-illiterate.

Attending an acting school was also crucial, but he couldn't rush into it. After researching, he found countless acting training facilities in Los Angeles, including professional schools, short courses, temporary classes at universities, and Broadway workshops, such as the Hollywood Film and Drama Academy, which offered a six-month course with classes five days a week.

The issue was the cost. With the potential for hefty penalties from his previous contract breach looming over him, he couldn't afford such expenses now.

Just as he thought of the breach, his phone rang.

Matthew answered, dreading the conversation. "Hello, is this Mr. Matthew Horner?"

"Yes, speaking," he replied, a bad feeling growing inside him.

"I'm Chris Walker, attorney for the 'Taboo Tarot' series," the caller introduced himself. "I'm representing the production and its parent company. I'm here to formally notify you that you've violated the contract…"

The lawyer then detailed several legal terms and contractual clauses, all boiling down to, "You are required to pay a penalty of fifty thousand dollars! Please provide your address, and I will send you the formal legal notice this afternoon…"

"What? Hello?" Matthew suddenly shouted, pretending the connection was bad. "I can't hear you clearly! Damn this phone, it's acting up again!"

With that, he abruptly removed the battery from his phone.

This was a desperate measure, a temporary fix at best. The previous individual had left all his real information when signing the contract with the 'Taboo Tarot' series. In a digital society like America, evading this debt wouldn't be easy—even moving back to rural Texas might not suffice.

"Fifty thousand dollars is no small amount," Matthew muttered to himself. "Should I hire a lawyer?"

Getting a lawyer might facilitate an out-of-court settlement for less than fifty thousand, but legal fees were another substantial expense.

Matthew knew it all boiled down to money. If he had enough, none of these issues would matter.

When would he be able to live as freely as Johnny Lee Miller?

With that thought, Matthew put down his phone, picked up the newspapers and books again, and started reading intently. Without the capability, even if opportunities arose, he wouldn't

 be able to seize them.

After several hours of reading at home and a brief outing, Matthew, who still considered his role as a driver at Red Penguin Company his main job, went to pick up his work assignment and the keys. Enduring some jibes from a black colleague and a heavyset coworker, he waited in the driver's lounge before setting out in the Ford minivan to pick up a passenger in Westwood, then drive them to nearby Orange County.

He picked up Rachel, the blonde girl from Westwood, and they headed toward Orange County on the highway. Just like last time, she was cheerful and talkative, sitting beside him.

"Hey, handsome, have you thought about it?" she asked breezily. "There's a company urgently looking for male models, and you'd be perfect."

Matthew shook his head without hesitation, "Not interested."

"This job doesn't pay much," Rachel remarked while touching up her makeup. "Does it even cover your bills?"

"I've got another part-time job," Matthew responded.

Rachel looked curious. "Isn't that the acting gig you mentioned last time?"

"Yeah!" Matthew nodded.

"Pfft," Rachel waved dismissively, "Just a background extra?"

"Yes," he replied.

Rachel snorted and said, "When I first came to LA over a year ago, I got several of those roles. They're useless, no real opportunities."

She shrugged, her tone nonchalant, "I was so desperate at one point, I thought about killing myself."

"That doesn't sound like you?" Matthew glanced at her quickly.

It was hard to imagine such a sunny, outgoing girl contemplating suicide.

"You don't know what it's like to be so broke you can't pay rent or afford food…" Rachel's smile faded. "To feel hopeless, seeing no way forward."

"I've been there," Matthew chuckled. "I've thought about suicide too."

"Really?" Rachel laughed. "Why didn't you go through with it?"

"I couldn't find a good way to do it," Matthew said half-jokingly. "Knives hurt, drowning's too wet, acid would ruin my clothes, pills cause convulsions, guns are illegal, hanging's unreliable, and gas stinks. So, I figured I might as well keep living."

"You... haha..."

Rachel burst into laughter.

The two chatted to pass the time just like before. After exiting the highway, Matthew picked up three more girls in Orange County and dropped them off at their destination before dark.

Like before, it was a mansion, but this time it seemed to be a regular party.

Still, that was none of his concern. After parking the car in a non-intrusive spot outside the mansion, Matthew reclined the seat to sleep, waiting to drive the tired girls back the next day.

After completing the task and not yet home, Matthew received a call from his agent, Dennis Kurlt, informing him to report to the set that afternoon.

Quickly returning home, Matthew caught up on some sleep, spruced up to look sharp, and after an early meal, headed to Universal Studios, arriving just before noon.

At the entrance to the studio, he saw Dennis's bulky figure again, who seemed quite jubilant, as if good fortune had come his way.

"Let's go…" Dennis gestured to Matthew, "We're heading inside."

They spoke briefly with the studio guards at the door and entered the familiar office area. Since it was lunchtime, the offices were mostly empty. Matthew and Dennis sat on a bench outside the casting director's office, waiting patiently.

"Remember!" Dennis, seeming genuinely upbeat, advised Matthew, "Do exactly as you're told during the shoot. Don't try to improvise."

He gestured dismissively, "You're just a background piece. In most cases, just standing there is enough. It's not difficult."

Matthew nodded, "I got it!"

This was a step in accumulating experience and credentials. Having arrived in Los Angeles virtually blind, with some experience and credentials, he'd have a better chance of landing future roles.

"I'm going to the restroom; just wait here, and don't wander off."

If it weren't for the fact that his connection with the casting director, Rubin, had been useful, Dennis probably wouldn't have bothered, "There might be other extras coming; don't start any conflicts."

Matthew nodded, and Dennis walked away.

Sitting alone, bored, Matthew began to imagine what his first acting experience would be like later that afternoon. Just then, he heard the sound of high heels on the floor from the other end of the hallway. A tall, thin girl turned the corner.

It was Angelina Jolie, her hair dyed golden blonde. Matthew thought she was coming over to him and stood up to wave.

Unexpectedly, Jolie didn't even glance his way and instead pushed open a door and stormed in.

"Why? Why cancel yesterday's shots?" Angelina Jolie's

 angry voice boomed immediately. "And why are you cutting my scenes?"

A serene female voice responded, "I'm the producer. These are normal adjustments during filming!"