Matthew and Rachel McAdams had their usual language class after lunch, so they decided to eat together, choosing an Italian restaurant near the Los Angeles School of Performing Arts.
"Fettuccine," she said, ordering the sa dish as last ti.
This wasn't the first ti Matthew had eaten with Rachel, and he knew she ate sparingly to maintain her figure.
"A Florentine T-bone steak," he ordered, his tall, powerful build and daily workouts demanding a high-calorie al. "And a seafood pasta."
After the waiter left, Rachel rested her chin in her hands and asked with a hint of worry, "So, did you get the part?"
Matthew lifted his glass of water. "I got it," he said, before taking a sip.
"Really?" Rachel looked slightly surprised. "You're going to be the male lead in a Britney Spears music video?"
"Signed the contract yesterday." Matthew didn't want to dwell on the subject, wary of sounding like he was bragging, and quickly changed the topic. "What about you? Did you quit McDonald's?"
Rachel nodded. "I did, but I haven't found a new part-ti job yet."
"Didn't your agent help?" Matthew asked, curious.
Most agents had wider networks. Helen, for instance, had helped find part-ti jobs for many of the young actors signed to long-term contracts with the Angel Acting Agency.
Rachel sighed. "My agent represents a lot of actors. I'm not a big enough na for him to go out of his way for ."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Matthew offered.
Rachel smiled and shook her head, knowing full well that Matthew's own situation was far from stable.
She changed the subject. "Your accent is starting to fade."
"Is it?" Matthew rested his chin on his hand. "Guess I'm better at that than I am at acting."
A pair of charming dimples appeared as she smiled. "Don't say that. You've got real talent."
Matthew shook his head. "If that's true, how co you're the first person to say it?"
The waiter arrived with their food. The restaurant wasn't exactly high-end, but the food was good.
"Has your agent sent you to any auditions?" Matthew asked, taking a sip of water.
"No, I haven't been on an audition in ages." Rachel swallowed a bite of pasta. "He's probably forgotten he even represents ."
She put down her fork. "By the way, the school announced an internship with a theater company next week."
Matthew considered it for a mont. "I probably can't go. The music video shoot is supposed to start any day now."
"That's a sha." Rachel looked a little disappointed. "I was hoping we'd get to perform together."
"Admit it, you just enjoy upstaging
when we do scenes together," Matthew teased. "You steal the spotlight every single ti."
Rachel's charming smile returned. "I always worry I'm going overboard."
"It's better than my 'tough guy' act," Matthew said, referring to David Astor's feedback.
"That's just your natural state," Rachel said, looking him over from head to toe. "You're definitely going to make a lot of girls swoon."
Matthew made a show of flexing his arms. "So, am I your type?"
"My type?" Rachel stroked her chin, tilting her head toward him. "Is this you trying to hit on ?"
"Uh..." Matthew was montarily flustered, unsure how to respond.
But he quickly shook his head. "I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow. Better not to drag anyone else into my ss."
They looked at each other and burst out laughing simultaneously.
Right now, they were both struggling just to survive, and neither of them had the energy to think about anything else.
After lunch, Matthew paid the bill, and he and Rachel walked back to the school for their afternoon language class.
Just as Rachel had noted, Matthew's Texas accent was fading thanks to all the hours he'd put into correcting it. The language classes weren't just for accent reduction; they were also professional training in stage diction.
For the next two days, Matthew followed his routine: classes at the Los Angeles School of Performing Arts during the day, and shifts as a driver for Red Penguin Services at night. He spent every spare mont studying the script for the music video, and occasionally checked for celebrity gossip in U.S. News & World Report—a tabloid with a na that sounded deceptively serious.
He was certain that Ilana would never pass up a story as big as the feud between Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera.
At one point, his curiosity got the better of him and he was tempted to call Ilana, but he stopped himself. It was best to keep his contact with entertainnt reporters to an absolute minimum.
It was far better to focus on the script and his character for the music video.
Music videos, especially for pop songs, were usually short. The one Matthew was in was planned to be no longer than five minutes, and its content and visual style had to match the tone of the song, "Sotis."
From the mont he got the script, Matthew had put in a great deal of effort, researching as much as he could. Although he was a complete novice when it ca to pop music, he managed to get a good grasp of "Sotis."
"Sotis" was a bubblegum-pop song about a shy girl afraid to confess her feelings to the boy she loved.
The song had received mixed reviews from music critics. So praised it as a stronger single than her previous hit, "...Baby One More Ti," while others dismissed it as unremarkable and a bland representation of Britney's youth.
Overall, both the song and the video were typical of the mainstream teen-pop genre.
Therefore, the video and its actors had to appeal to a teenage audience.
Matthew was keenly aware that his success in getting through the initial auditions had almost nothing to do with his acting skills; his looks had clearly played the most significant role.
Based on his research, Matthew easily concluded that all he needed to do as the male lead was look handso, project a sunny disposition, and win over Britney's teenage fanbase.
It didn't require much in the way of acting ability. He just needed so basic on-cara experience and to avoid rookie mistakes, like looking into the lens. The stylists would handle the rest.
Matthew didn't think he would have any trouble with the role. After all, he was only nineteen, so he wouldn't even have to pretend to be young.
...
The afternoon sun was slanting west, casting long shadows as Matthew stepped off the bus. He headed toward the Red Penguin Services office, ready for his night shift.
As he neared the entrance to the office, his phone rang.
"Hello, Helen." It was his agent. "What's up?"
Helen's voice ca over the line. "The record company has confird the new director. The cast is eting at the studio tomorrow; he wants to et you. The official shoot starts the day after, so be on set by eight in the morning."
Matthew was about to agree when Helen spoke again. "You should take a few days off. Don't work your night job. I want you well-rested for the shoot."
"Okay, no problem," Matthew replied, glancing at the office door. He could already imagine Lister's reaction.
Helen added, "And don't ntion Michael or Martin Jackson to anyone in the cast."
"I know," Matthew assured her. "I'll keep my mouth shut."
He had already gotten what he wanted. What was the point of bringing up sothing so trivial?
After hanging up, Matthew walked into the Red Penguin Services office and went straight up to Lister's office on the second floor.
Lister was in his office, along with the usual two cronies—a bald black man and a heavy-set guy. The difference was that this ti, the two of them acted as if Matthew wasn't even there, not saying a word.
"Boss." Matthew approached Lister's desk. Lister looked up, handing him a set of car keys and a sheet of paper. "Here's your assignnt for tonight. A pickup in Santa Monica."
Matthew took the keys but didn't leave. He scratched his head. "Boss, after tonight, I need to take a week off."
"What?" Lister's eyes widened. "Again? How many days have you taken off this month?"
Seeing Lister's anger, the bald man chid in with a sneer, "He's a big shot now. Of course he doesn't take a small-ti job like this seriously."
Any boss would be annoyed with an employee who constantly asked for ti off, and Lister was clearly irritated.
Matthew opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, the bald man added sarcastically, "So what amazing role have you landed this ti?"
He couldn't believe this country bumpkin could be so lucky.
Although he had no desire to engage with such an idiot, Matthew felt a flash of anger. He turned his head and said evenly, "The male lead in a Britney Spears music video."
The bald man's mouth snapped shut. He didn't say another word, suddenly seeming to shrink into the background as if he wasn't there at all.
"You take too much ti off," Lister said bluntly. "If you want all this free ti, then quit."
Matthew understood. He didn't want to lose the job, but there was no question of choosing it over his acting career.
He placed the keys and the assignnt sheet back on the desk. "Thank you for giving
the job and for all your help, Mr. Lister."
The man had his share of flaws, but he'd given Matthew a job when he needed it most, one that had allowed him to survive. For that, he was grateful.
Lister pushed the keys back across the desk. "Finish your shift tonight. It's almost the end of the month. Bring
your resignation tomorrow, and I'll have your final paycheck ready."
Matthew nodded, took the keys, and walked out of the office. As of tomorrow, he would be unemployed, which ant his struggles were about to get a whole lot harder.
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