Anyone would pause for a second glance upon seeing such a beautiful woman, and Matthew was no exception. With a bookshelf in between serving as a screen, his gaze followed the short-haired woman. She wasn't just pretty—she was browsing in a bookstore too. That surely qualified her as the fabled "intellectual beauty," didn't it?
That thought had just formed in his mind when Matthew's eyes suddenly widened. The woman seemed to have found a book she liked, stopped at one of the shelves, and, with lightning speed, pulled out two colorful books and stuffed them into her handbag.
Matthew blinked hard, as if not believing what he'd just seen. That slender, refined, and innocent-looking woman… was actually a thief?
The short-haired woman casually continued browsing after slipping the books into her bag. Matthew wondered if perhaps she'd just put them there temporarily and would take them out to pay later. Just in case, he quickly picked a few acting books and headed toward her side of the store. When he got there, she was already walking toward the cashier.
If she's a thief and gets caught, now that would be something!
Curiosity piqued, Matthew followed. As he passed the shelf where she'd taken the books, he confirmed there were indeed two gaps.
Just as he stepped out from between the shelves, the short-haired woman, handbag in hand, strutted past the cashier. The two female clerks behind the counter even greeted her enthusiastically, as if they knew her. The woman nodded and walked straight out the door.
Matthew shook his head and placed his books on the counter without saying a word. After paying, he left as well. Though the incident surprised him, he didn't feel it was his place to interfere.
To save money, he didn't take a cab. Instead, he transferred between buses to return to his rented apartment. It was old and rundown, but at least it gave him a stable foothold in Los Angeles.
Back home, Matthew flopped onto the sagging sofa, picked up one of the books he'd just bought—"Film Acting: Techniques and History for Performing on Camera" by O'Brien—and began to read. But just like with his contract earlier, he struggled to understand it…
Bang—
He closed the book. Improving his reading skills had become urgent. After thinking for a moment, he ran downstairs and bought two newspapers. Compared to jargon-filled textbooks, newspapers were much easier to comprehend.
After reading a tabloid cover to cover, he gave himself a task: from now on, he would set aside time every day for reading. Once his reading improved, he'd work on his writing too.
Even if he never made it as a Hollywood star, he refused to remain semi-illiterate.
Then there was acting school, another pressing issue. But he couldn't rush that. He'd done some research over the past few days: Los Angeles had countless acting programs, including professional academies, short-term courses, university programs, and even Broadway masterclasses. For example, the Hollywood Film and Drama Academy offered a six-month course with five lessons a week.
The problem? These programs weren't cheap, and with a potential lawsuit looming over him, he simply couldn't afford such high costs.
Just as he thought about that looming lawsuit, his phone rang.
Matthew answered. A professional voice came through, "Hello, is this Mr. Matthew Horner?"
"Yes," he replied, with a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Mr. Horner, this is Chris Walker, legal counsel for the Forbidden Tarot production team. I'm calling on behalf of the production and its parent company to formally inform you that you are in breach of contract…"
The man went on, reciting legal terms and contract clauses, finally concluding, "You are required to pay a $50,000 penalty. Please provide your address. I will send you the formal letter this afternoon…"
"Hello? Hello?" Matthew suddenly shouted, "What? I can't hear you! Damn phone's acting up again!"
Then he quickly removed the back of his phone and yanked out the battery.
It was a desperate move, but it was all he could do. The guy who had originally signed the Forbidden Tarot contract had used his real information. With the year 2000 fast approaching and in an information-driven society like America, even fleeing to the countryside in Texas wouldn't help if they pursued the case seriously.
"Fifty thousand dollars is no small sum," Matthew frowned. "Should I get a lawyer too?"
Getting a lawyer might help him settle out of court, possibly for less than $50,000. But even legal fees were a hefty expense.
It all boiled down to one thing—money. If he had money, none of these would be problems.
When will I be as carefree as Johnny Lee Miller?
Thinking this, Matthew set down his phone, picked up the newspaper and book again, and resumed reading. Without ability, even if opportunity knocked, he wouldn't be able to grab it.
He read for hours and then went for a run outside. After a simple dinner, it was time to work again. Acting was just a side hustle for now—his main job was driving for Red Penguin Company.
He picked up his assignment and keys from Lester and, ignoring the jabs from the fat guy and the Black guy, waited in the driver's lounge for a while. Eventually, Matthew drove the Ford shuttle van to Westwood to pick up a client and then headed toward Orange County.
Just like last time, the blonde named Rachel got in. She was sunny and talkative, chatting the whole way.
"Handsome, have you thought about it?" she asked bluntly. "There's a company urgently hiring male models. You're a perfect fit."
"Nope," Matthew shook his head without hesitation. "Not going."
"This job doesn't pay well, you know," Rachel said while fixing her makeup. "Can you really support yourself?"
"I picked up a side gig," he replied.
She looked at him curiously. "Let me guess—your acting job?"
"Yep!" Matthew nodded. "I just landed a spot in a production."
"Pfft!" Rachel waved her hand dismissively. "One of those background extras with no lines?"
"Yep."
Rachel scoffed, "I did a few of those when I first got to LA over a year ago. They're useless. No opportunity at all."
She shrugged casually. "There was a time I was so hopeless I wanted to kill myself."
"You? Really?" Matthew glanced at her in surprise.
It was hard to imagine someone so upbeat talking about suicide.
"You don't know what it's like to be so broke you can't pay rent or buy food…" Rachel said, dropping her smile. "To look up and see no way forward."
"I've been there," Matthew chuckled. "I even thought about suicide myself once."
"What?" Rachel laughed. "So why didn't you go through with it?"
"Couldn't find the right method," Matthew said half-jokingly. "Knives hurt, rivers are too wet, acid ruins clothes, pills cause convulsions, guns are illegal, hanging's unreliable, and gas stinks. So… might as well keep living."
"You… hahahaha…"
Rachel burst out laughing, pointing at him.
Just like last time, the two chatted away the time. After exiting the freeway, Matthew picked up three more women in Orange County and dropped them all off before dark.
It was another mansion, but this time it seemed to be a legitimate party.
Not his concern. As always, he parked outside the mansion and dozed in his seat. At dawn, he drove the exhausted women back home.
Before he even got home himself, Matthew received a call from his agent, Dennis Kurt—he was to report to the production this afternoon.
He rushed home for a nap, tidied up, and made sure he looked fresh and alert. After an early meal, he headed to Universal Studios, arriving before noon.
At the studio entrance, he spotted Dennis again. Unlike last time, the fat man looked energized, as if something good had happened.
"Let's go…" Dennis waved at him. "We're going in."
They spoke briefly with the gate staff and entered the office area they'd visited before. It was lunchtime, so the place was nearly empty. Matthew and Dennis sat on a bench outside the casting director's office and waited patiently.
"Remember!" Dennis reminded Matthew seriously, in an unusually good mood. "Just do what they say during filming. Don't improvise."
He gestured, "You're just a background extra. Most of the time, just standing still is enough. It's not hard."
Matthew nodded, "I got it!"
This was the first step toward gaining experience and credentials. He had come to LA totally blind. With some background work under his belt, he'd have better chances at getting real roles later.
"I'm going to the restroom. Stay here and don't wander," Dennis said.
Had the casting director Ruben not come through, Dennis wouldn't be wasting his breath.
"There might be other extras arriving. Don't get into any fights."
Matthew nodded. Dennis walked off.
Left alone and bored, Matthew started fantasizing about his first time on set. He hadn't daydreamed long when the sound of high heels echoed down the corridor. From around the corner came a tall, slim girl with dyed golden hair.
It was Angelina Jolie.
Thinking she had come looking for him, Matthew stood up and waved.
To his surprise, she didn't even look at him. She stormed straight into a room.
"Why? Why are yesterday's scenes being scrapped?" came Angelina Jolie's furious roar. "And now you're cutting my lines too?!"
A cold, ethereal voice responded, "I'm the producer. This is a routine adjustment to filming."