"Go find a lawyer," Helen Herman said without hesitation. "Reach a settlement with the other party out of court, and try to pay as little in penalty as possible."
Matthew thought of his nearly empty wallet and asked, "So I still have to pay? Is there any way I don't have to?"
"There is," Helen replied matter-of-factly. "Don't be an actor. Don't work in Hollywood. Go hide somewhere and never show your face again."
"I haven't made a cent yet, and I already have to pay a huge penalty." Matthew shook his head. "I came to Hollywood to become a big star and make big money."
Helen laughed. "Well, at least you're honest."
"I just say it like it is!" Matthew said with a shrug. "Isn't everyone who comes to Hollywood chasing stardom and fortune?"
Helen couldn't argue with that.
"I don't care about anyone else," Matthew continued bluntly. "I didn't come to Hollywood to dedicate myself to art. I'm here to become a star and make a lot of money!"
Helen smiled. "It's a tough road."
Matthew pointed at himself. "For someone like me, is there any other legal way to make it besides this?"
Helen thought for a moment but couldn't come up with anything.
A broke kid with no education, no background, and no connections trying to climb the ladder in today's world... hmm… the weather's really nice today...
Then Matthew steered the conversation back. "Helen, do you know a lawyer? Can you introduce me to one?"
"Mm… sure." Helen pulled out a pen and notepad, wrote down a number, and said, "Call this number and say you're my client."
"Thanks!" Matthew took the note. "I'll call as soon as I get back."
Then he asked, "When will the production pay me? And what's my total pay, anyway?"
Helen did a quick mental calculation. "Three days of rehearsal, one day of filming, two hundred dollars per day. Plus, you're getting eight thousand dollars for this role. That's a total of eighty-eight hundred dollars."
Matthew asked again, "When will they pay?"
"It'll take a few days," Helen said, sipping her coffee. Then she asked, "Are you that short on money?"
"I'm broke! I'm pinching every penny till it screams." Matthew worried that sounded bad, so he explained, "I've enrolled in an acting workshop at the Los Angeles Academy of Performing Arts. The tuition's not cheap."
Helen looked a bit surprised. "The LA Academy of Performing Arts? I thought they had certain admission requirements. How did you—"
Matthew quickly dropped a big name. "Angelina Jolie helped recommend me."
Helen nodded and advised, "You should probably also sign up for a language class to fix your pronunciation."
"My pronunciation's off?" Matthew asked.
Helen tilted her head and replied bluntly, "You sound like you're straight out of Texas." She paused, then added, "Right now, I see you as a character actor, not just an extra. You need to have higher standards for yourself."
Matthew knew she had a point and nodded. "Character actor? Does that mean my acting's better than an extra's?"
"You're thinking too much," Helen said flatly. "I'm basing that label on your income and the fact that you actually had a speaking role in the production."
"Sounds like you've got your own system for ranking actors," Matthew said with interest.
Helen admitted it. "I have a ranking system based on income, visibility, and industry status. It doesn't have much to do with actual acting ability."
Before Matthew could ask more, she continued, "Roughly speaking, from the bottom up, it goes: extras, character actors, working actors, minor celebrities, B-list stars, A-listers, and Super A-listers."
"So Super A-listers are at the top of the pyramid," Matthew said. "Who qualifies as a Super A-lister in your eyes?"
"Very few," Helen replied. "Someone like Julia Roberts or Tom Cruise."
Matthew understood. Helen's ranking was subjective, but it made sense. From what he'd read in the news, neither Julia Roberts nor Tom Cruise was necessarily the best actor in Hollywood in terms of skill, but when it came to income, status, influence, and star power, they were unquestionably at the top.
He looked at himself—calling himself a "character actor" was probably too generous. He was still at the very bottom of the pyramid.
The road ahead was long.
Helen glanced at her watch, pulled out a bill to cover the coffee, and told Matthew, "This shoot wraps up this afternoon. Call Amanda tomorrow and come to our Burbank office to sign the contract."
Matthew didn't respond to that. Instead, he asked, "Aren't you worried I'll sign with someone else?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how dumb the question was. He felt like his IQ had dropped to the level of that idiot Makin.
"Would you?" Helen stood up. "Would any other agency offer you a long-term contract?"
Matthew answered honestly, "No."
"See you next week."
Helen said her final words and walked out of the café.
Matthew followed a bit later. Helen hadn't said it outright, but he could guess why she wanted to sign him.
She didn't pick him to play the barbarian chief because of his acting chops, or his aura, or even his potential to become a star.
The biggest reason was simply that he showed up in front of her a lot and became a familiar face. Among all the extras she dealt with, he was one of the first she remembered. Plus, he had appeared in a small role with two lines alongside Angelina Jolie and Winona Ryder.
That had left a decent impression on her. So she wanted to lock him down with a long-term contract. But with any other agent, would he be any different from those nameless extras like Michael Sheen? Probably not.
Honestly, most agents would rather work with a clueless, overconfident guy like Makin than someone like him.
At the end of the day… who even knows who Matthew Horner is?
Back at the motel, Matthew found Michael Sheen packing his suitcase.
"Hey, Matthew." Michael greeted him enthusiastically. "Where've you been? Didn't see you after the shoot."
"Had coffee with Helen," Matthew replied casually as he pulled out his own suitcase. "You heading out too?"
Michael nodded. "Our group of extras is pretty much done. The crew's sending us back to L.A. this afternoon."
"You coming with us?"
Matthew nodded. "Of course. Free ride, right?"
After having their final meal provided by the crew in the motel's restaurant, Matthew boarded the crew's shuttle back to Los Angeles with the other extras. As on the way there, he sat next to Michael Sheen. But unlike before, now many extras surrounded him, firing off questions. He was the center of attention.
"When Ridley Scott was giving you direction," a bald man asked, "what did he say?"
Others chimed in excitedly—
"Isn't he known for having a bad temper?"
"When the camera zooms in on you, are you supposed to look into the lens?"
"Were you nervous?"
There were too many questions for Matthew to answer.
Some even handed him their business cards.
"I'm Brad Faist. Let's stay in touch, Matthew!"
"If you ever get another chance like this, bring me along, okay? Here's my number…"
Whether it was crew members or these extras, what struck Matthew most was how people chased success and looked down on failure—he wasn't immune to it himself.
Once the bus got going, people finally settled down. Michael Sheen leaned over and said quietly, "Ignore them."
Matthew nodded. He didn't even know where his next role would come from. Why waste energy on these people?
That thought reminded him—being opportunistic really was contagious.
To avoid the noise, Matthew dozed for most of the ride. When the bus arrived back in L.A., the sun was already sinking in the west.
"I'll head home first," Michael Sheen said, just as friendly as ever. "Call me if you ever need anything."
"I will," Matthew replied. He hadn't changed either.
After Michael left, Matthew didn't return to Red Penguin Services yet. He still had some time off, so he planned to rest a bit before going back to work.
He didn't bother with the bus either. He called a cab. After the last few days of running around with the production, he was exhausted.
While waiting for the cab, he dialed the lawyer's number Helen had given him. Once he mentioned her name, the lawyer sounded very polite. They arranged to meet the next morning.
Back in Westwood, Matthew dragged his suitcase upstairs and unlocked the door to his apartment. He found another envelope on the floor near the door—another debt collection letter from a lawyer.
"At least it's not a court summons," he sighed.
He tossed down his suitcase, shut the door, and collapsed on the couch. Pulling out the newspaper he'd picked up earlier, he started reading.
This had become a daily habit.
After reading the paper and calling to inquire about language classes at the LA Academy of Performing Arts, he pulled out one of his acting books. He laid down on the bed to read, but fell asleep halfway through. He didn't wake up until the next morning.
After getting up and washing up, he followed his routine: a jog, breakfast, then putting on a suit to go meet the lawyer. Thanks to Helen's reputation, the lawyer waived the consultation fee and told Matthew that settling out of court was the best option. Taking it to court would only waste time and energy on both sides.
With a settlement, the penalty could be reduced by half or even more. Plus, they could arrange installment payments.
That would definitely help with his cash flow problem. Matthew decided to hire the lawyer, a man named Wilson, to handle the case.
But before that, he had to go to Burbank to sign the first formal talent agency contract of his life—with Helen Herman's Angel Agency.