"Look!" the long-haired female assistant exclaid, pointing toward the sea. "Matthew Horner is back."
The female paparazzo with short hair imdiately lifted her cara, aid it at Matthew, quickly adjusted the focus, and began snapping photos. The assistant beside her was just as quick, raising her own cara and adding, "Catherine, our housewife readers are going to be thrilled!"
The paparazzo shifted her lens downward and let out a soft, "Ooh."
The swim trunks Matthew wore were already form-fitting, and now, soaked through with seawater, they clung to his body, accentuating the large bulge between his legs.
The woman's eyes widened behind the viewfinder, but she held the cara steady, focusing on Matthew's lower body and pressing the shutter several tis. A close-up of the bulge in his groin was captured perfectly through the lens.
Her assistant worked in tandem, using her cara to capture specific details. "The size must be incredible. You could probably—"
"Let's go!" the paparazzo cut her off and ordered, "Get closer! We need to get everything in a close-up!"
The two of them erged from under their beach umbrella and ran toward Matthew, who was several dozen ters away, to continue shooting a full range of close-ups.
Matthew had already spotted the two female reporters and wasn't surprised when they rushed toward him. He offered a faint smile as he stepped onto the soft, warm sand and began walking toward the changing rooms. He had just beco famous and needed more exposure, even if it ant his picture would end up on the pages of a gossip tabloid.
The sensation of being constantly watched through a cara lens was entirely new to him.
Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Matthew found this life rather amusing. According to Helen, he thought about things a little differently than normal people, which he knew was a euphemism for what she really ant—that he wasn't quite right in the head.
He, however, had never seen it that way. After all, who wouldn't enjoy a glamorous life?
Matthew walked past the two won, giving them a pointed look and slowing his pace slightly. Seeing that they had no intention of approaching him for an interview, he picked up his speed and left the beach.
The two won snapped a few more pictures of his back, getting close-ups of Matthew's rear, before the one with short hair said, "We're done. Let's head back to the car."
The assistant lowered her cara and asked, "Aren't we going to follow him anymore?"
"No need," the paparazzo replied, having tailed Matthew for more than a day. "He's just going to the gym next. That's not newsworthy."
The pair, each clutching a cara, made their way to the parking lot next to the beach and got into a minivan. The paparazzo let her assistant drive while she settled into the back seat, which had been converted into a mobile workstation. She opened a laptop and connected her digital cara. "Eliza, take us to the editorial office."
She instructed her assistant, "And drive smoothly. I want to select the pictures and write the article."
The paparazzo opened a file, selected the best photos from her cara's mory card, and added them to the docunt. She was experienced and highly skilled, making sure to feature the full-body shot with the close-up of his groin as the centerpiece, followed by the corresponding detail shots taken by her assistant.
After adding the photos, she began to type. "The recently popular movie star Matthew Horner relaxes on the beach, showcasing his masculine charm and toned body. Has anyone had a taste of..."
A long paragraph of text, sensational enough to stir up controversy but careful not to cross any lines, quickly appeared in the docunt as her fingers flew across the keyboard.
This was clearly not the first ti she had drafted a story on the fly.
By the ti she finished, the minivan was parked outside the newspaper's office. The assistant ca around to look at her work. Staring at the photo, she asked curiously, "Catherine, there must be a lot of won who've slept with that guy, right?"
The woman nad Catherine turned her head to look at her, transferred the file to a flash drive, and replied, "Eliza, you don't stand a chance of sleeping with him."
Eliza just shrugged.
Without another word, Catherine got out of the van with the flash drive. After locking the car, Eliza quickly followed her into the newspaper office.
They walked for a short while and soon arrived at the office of a section's editor-in-chief.
The editor-in-chief, who wore a pair of old-fashioned glasses, reviewed Catherine's edited docunt on his computer and said, "I'll take the story. Your price?"
Catherine imdiately replied, "A thousand dollars."
"No way." The bespectacled editor pointed at Matthew on the computer screen. "He's not worth that much."
"Not worth it?" Catherine couldn't help but scoff. "Hamilton, are you still living two months in the past? Do you need
to introduce you to him?"
Without waiting for Hamilton to reply, she launched into her pitch. "This is Matthew Horner, the lead actor in the smash hit 'The Scorpion King.' The absolute star of a film that has grossed over a hundred million dollars at the North Arican box office! He's a rising star right now."
Hamilton glanced at the man on the screen again, a flicker of envy and jealousy in his eyes as he looked at the close-up of his groin.
Catherine added, "'The Scorpion King' is still in theaters. I'm sure it'll hit two hundred million dollars worldwide. So if you don't want him, that's fine. Plenty of papers are interested in news about Matthew."
With that, she stepped forward and sharply pulled the flash drive from Hamilton's computer, deliberately emphasizing, "It's not often you co across a Hollywood star with such outstanding 'qualities' as his."
"Wait!" Hamilton wasn't actually living two months in the past. It was just a negotiation tactic. As the editor of a gossip tabloid, how could he not know who Matthew Horner was?
Of all the movies released in the past month, Tobey Maguire and Matthew Horner were the most popular male actors. There was certainly no shortage of readers for news about Matthew Horner, let alone photos of his manhood.
He thought for a mont and said, "A thousand dollars is out of the question. Eight hundred is the maximum."
"Fine." Catherine imdiately plugged the flash drive back in. "It's a deal."
After receiving a check for eight hundred dollars, a very pleased Catherine left the newspaper office with her assistant.
...
After leaving Santa Monica beach, Matthew had planned to go to the gym to continue his fencing practice, but he had just driven out of Santa Monica when he got a call from Helen.
He drove through Westwood to the Angel Acting Agency in Burbank and soon walked into her office, asking, "What can I do for you?"
"First things first," Helen said, her expression serious. "Next Monday, Walt Disney and Jerry Bruckheir will jointly announce the official launch of the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' project."
Matthew wasn't surprised by this; after all, set construction had already begun. He then asked the question that concerned him most, "What about the script? The roles?"
Helen pushed up her black-frad glasses. "The script isn't finished. It's still being revised."
She had used her father's connections to get so information from Disney Pictures. "But the general frawork has been decided, and it's a film with three main characters, if not more."
"Three main characters, huh?" Matthew realized that it must be almost identical to how it was in his past life.
Helen knew the general idea but not the specifics. "Two male leads and one female lead. The hero is a scruffy pirate and a handso swordsman who goes on an adventure with him, and the heroine is a nobleman's daughter."
Matthew was certain he was right: the pirate, the blacksmith, and the flat-chested heroine, all according to canon.
"The scruffy pirate doesn't fit your image," Helen continued. "So, we're aiming for the blacksmith."
Matthew agreed. "It would be a waste for a handso guy like
to play a scruffy pirate."
To be honest, he didn't think he could play that role well. And who knew what would happen if an imposing actor like him replaced the effeminate pirate?
If the movie bombed because of him, there would be nothing to do but cry.
It was better that the young blacksmith suited him more, and he had done a lot of preparation to compete for that very role.
Helen spoke up, "I'll submit your information as soon as casting begins. I've already done the groundwork, so it won't be difficult for you to get an invitation to audition."
Matthew nodded and asked, "Has Jerry Bruckheir confird a director yet?"
Helen didn't know much on that front. "It hasn't been officially confird, but it's very likely to be Gore Verbinski. I'm trying to get in touch with him now."
Back then, Matthew had only watched the movie and didn't care who the director was, so he couldn't be sure if the final director was Gore Verbinski. However, Helen was always well-inford, and if she said it was very likely, she probably wasn't wrong.
...
They continued to discuss so of the finer points of securing the role until nightfall, when Matthew looked at the ti and said, "Let's have dinner together. My treat."
Helen packed her bag and declined. "So other ti. I have things to do."
Matthew didn't insist. As he was about to leave, Helen reminded him, "Don't forget the party Universal is hosting tomorrow night."
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