The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!-Chapter 11

"First, find a lawyer," Helen said without a moment's hesitation. "Arrange an out-of-court settlement with them and pay as little as possible for breach of contract."
Matthew thought of his bone-dry wallet. "So I'll have to pay no matter what, right?" he asked. "Is there any way to get out of it?"
"Yes," Helen Herman replied dryly. "Stop being an actor. Get out of Hollywood. Find somewhere to hide and never show your face again."
Matthew shook his head. "I came to Hollywood to become a star and make a lot of money."
Helen smiled. "You're very direct."
Matthew spread his hands. "I just said what everyone else is thinking. Doesn't everyone who comes to Hollywood fight to become a star and make big money?"
Helen couldn't argue with that.
"I don't care about anyone else." Matthew's goal was, as always, shamelessly materialistic. "I didn't come to Hollywood to devote myself to art. I came to be a star and make a pile of cash!"
Helen suddenly laughed. "That's a difficult path."
Matthew pointed to himself. "For someone like me, is there any other way forward? Without breaking the law, of course."
Helen considered it and was surprised to find she couldn't think of one.
A poor boy with no money, no education, no family, and no connections trying to climb the ladder in modern society...
Matthew changed the subject. "Do you know any lawyers? Could you introduce me to one?"
Helen took out a pen and a notepad, jotted down a series of numbers, tore out the page, and said, "Call this number and tell them you're my client."
Matthew took the piece of paper gratefully. "I'll call as soon as I get back."
Then he asked, "When will the film crew pay me? By the way, what's the total amount I'm owed?"
Helen calculated, "Three days of rehearsals and one day of shooting at two hundred dollars a day. Add the eight thousand for today's role, and that comes to eight thousand, eight hundred dollars."
Once again, Matthew asked, "When will I get the money?"
"In a few days." Helen picked up her coffee cup, took a sip, and asked, "Short on cash?"
"Very," Matthew admitted. Worried about making too poor of an impression, he explained, "I've enrolled in acting classes at the Los Angeles School of Performing Arts, and that costs a lot of money."
Helen was a little surprised. "The Los Angeles School of Performing Arts? I remember there being a pretty high barrier to entry. Did you...?"
Matthew used Jolie's name as a shield again. "Angelina Jolie helped me."
Helen nodded and then advised, "You should also sign up for a language class to correct your pronunciation."
"Do I have a problem with my pronunciation?" Matthew asked, puzzled.
Helen tilted her head and stated bluntly, "Let's just say it's immediately obvious you're from Texas."
After a moment's thought, she added, "Right now, I'm positioning you as a character actor, not a standard one."
Knowing she had a point, Matthew nodded in agreement. "A character actor? Is that better than a regular actor?"
"You're overthinking it." Helen Herman was as blunt as ever. "I make the distinction based on how much you earn and the kind of roles you're offered on set."
"It sounds like you have a unique way of evaluating actors," Matthew remarked, intrigued.
Helen admitted, "I developed a ranking system based on an actor's income and their standing in the industry. It doesn't have much to do with acting itself."
Before Matthew could ask any more questions, she explained, "Broadly speaking, from the bottom up, they can be divided into these categories: extras, character actors, regular actors, B-list stars, A-list stars, and superstars."
"So superstars are at the top of the pyramid," Matthew said, then asked curiously, "Who's in that category?"
"Very few people." Helen offered an example. "Julia Roberts and Tom Cruise, for instance."
Matthew understood this was Helen Herman's personal classification system and quite subjective. But based on the news he'd been reading lately, while Julia Roberts and Tom Cruise might not be considered Hollywood's finest in terms of acting standards, they were definitely top-tier superstars when it came to income, status, public influence, and appeal.
He then considered his own position and realized he was at the very bottom of the pyramid.
He still had a long way to go.
Helen glanced at her watch, pulled out a dollar bill, and placed it on the table. She then said to Matthew, "I'm done with work for the day. Call Amanda tomorrow and come in to sign the contract."
Matthew didn't agree immediately. Instead, he asked, "Aren't you worried I'll sign with another agency?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized what a stupid question it was. He felt his IQ instantly plummet to the level of the dim-witted Mason.
Helen stood up. "Would another agency sign you to a long-term contract?"
Matthew answered honestly, "No."
"See you soon," Helen said, getting the last word in before promptly leaving the coffee shop.
Matthew left as well. Helen hadn't said anything directly, but he could guess her reasoning.
Why had she chosen him for the role of the barbarian chieftain?
It was probably because he was a regular presence, the first of her extras to come to mind. Plus, he had appeared alongside Angelina Jolie and Winona Ryder in a role with two lines of dialogue.
He had subtly made an impression on Helen, which was why she wanted to sign him to a long-term contract.
On his way back to the hotel, Matthew found that Michael had also returned and was packing his things in his room.
"Hey, Matthew." He spotted Matthew and immediately greeted him warmly. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you since the shoot wrapped."
"I was having coffee with Helen," Matthew replied casually, pulling out his own suitcase. "Are you ready to go?"
Michael nodded. "We're pretty much done. The crew has a bus taking us back to Los Angeles this afternoon."
He asked, "Are you coming with us?"
Matthew packed his bags. "Of course."
After a final lunch provided by the production in the hotel restaurant, Matthew joined the other extras on the bus back to Los Angeles. He sat with Michael, just as he had on the way there. The only difference was that now, many of the people around them were asking Matthew questions, making him the center of attention.
"When Ridley Scott came over to you," a bald man who looked vaguely familiar asked, "what did he say?"
Other people chimed in with a chaotic flurry of questions.
"Was the director grumpy?"
"Did you have to look at the camera when it was doing a close-up?"
"Were you nervous?"
There were so many questions that Matthew couldn't possibly answer them all.
Some people also handed him their business cards.
"I'm Brad Firth. Let's talk later, Matthew."
"Next time you get an opportunity like this, can you give me a call? Here's my number."
Whether it was the crew on set or these extras now, one thing Matthew felt most acutely was the tendency to fawn over success and kick people when they were down—he even recognized it in himself.
After the bus pulled away and everyone finally settled down, Michael whispered, "Don't pay them any mind."
Matthew nodded. He didn't even know when his next role would be, so how could he help anyone else?
He couldn't help but sigh at the thought. Snobbery was contagious.
To avoid any more conversation, Matthew simply slept the entire way. By the time the bus arrived in Los Angeles and he stepped off, the sun was already slanting toward the west.
"Bye," Michael said, as enthusiastic as ever. "Call me if you need anything."
"Will do," Matthew replied, his own demeanor unchanged.
After Michael left, Matthew had no intention of going to Red Penguin Services. The leave he had taken wasn't over yet, and he planned to take another day off before returning to work.
Instead of waiting for a bus, Matthew hailed a taxi. He was a bit tired after spending the last few days running around with the crew.
While waiting for the cab, he called the number Helen had given him. When he mentioned Helen's name, the lawyer seemed quite courteous, and they arranged to meet the next morning.
Taking the taxi to the Westwood area, Matthew dragged his luggage upstairs and opened the door to his apartment, only to find another envelope lying on the floor. He picked it up and read it—another letter from the debt-collecting lawyer.
"Well, at least it's not a court summons."
Matthew sighed, put down his suitcase, closed the door, and collapsed onto the sofa. He pulled out a newspaper he had bought before coming up and started to read.
It had become a daily habit.
After reading the paper and making a call to the Los Angeles School of Performing Arts, Matthew picked up an acting book and lay down on his bed. He read for a while before drifting off, sleeping straight through until dawn the next day.
He got up, washed his face, and went for a run. After breakfast, he changed into formal clothes and went to meet the lawyer. Helen's name worked wonders; the lawyer didn't charge a consultation fee and told Matthew plainly that an out-of-court settlement was the best option, as going to court would benefit neither party and would just waste time and energy.
Moreover, with an out-of-court settlement, he might get a discount on the breach of contract fee and could potentially pay in installments.
Paying in installments would solve his biggest financial problem, and Matthew decided to entrust the matter to the lawyer, whose name was Wilson.
But before he could do that, he had to go to Burbank to sign an official agency contract with Helen's Angel Acting Agency.