Monday morning, just after finishing his morning routine, Matthew's phone rang. His agent, Dennis Kurt, was already waiting downstairs in his car. Matthew hurriedly changed into a brand-new suit and rushed downstairs to meet him, and the two drove toward Universal Studios.
On the way, Dennis repeatedly reminded Matthew of various things to watch out for—especially not to talk too much, not to let curiosity get the better of him, and to pretend not to see anything even if he witnessed something unusual.
Matthew nodded on the surface, but he didn't really take it to heart. His starting point was far too low. If he wanted to climb up quickly, he needed two things: one, to improve his own skills, like acting; and two, to find opportunities.
But opportunities don't come out of nowhere. Sometimes, you have to create them.
Like that time helping Angelina Jolie catch her cheating partner—if he hadn't made additional demands, would he even have this opportunity now? Over the past few days, Matthew had speculated about why Jolie chose to follow through on her verbal agreement. It probably came down to a few reasons: either she really was just an eccentric woman, or she truly was getting divorced and didn't care what people might say.
Dennis drove them into the restricted filming area of Universal Studios. After asking around briefly, they found the soundstage for the Taking Lives production. Though it was still early, the place was already bustling.
After entering the studio and confirming the location of the casting director's office, Dennis asked, "Do you want to say hello to Miss Jolie?"
"No need," Matthew guessed Angelina Jolie didn't want to see him. "She said to go straight to the casting director."
Dennis looked a bit disappointed but didn't say anything else. He waddled ahead and led Matthew to the office door.
Knock, knock.
A clear voice came from inside: "Come in."
They pushed open the door and entered. Behind a desk sat a man in his thirties or forties, flipping through some documents.
"Mr. Rubin?" Matthew asked. Seeing the man nod, he quickly said, "Vanessa, Miss Jolie's assistant, told me to come today for an audition."
"Oh… right," Rubin seemed to recall. "Yes, I remember."
Dennis, who had been listening closely, quickly stepped forward and respectfully handed over his business card. "Hello, Director Rubin. I'm Dennis Kurt, Matthew's agent."
Rubin accepted the card and set it aside, then looked Matthew up and down. "Alright."
He picked up the phone and dialed. "John, there's a background actor here. Take him to sign a contract."
Matthew glanced at Rubin, then at Dennis. Wait—was that the whole audition?
A young man soon came in and gestured politely. "Let's go to the legal department."
Beside him, Dennis flattered Rubin a bit more and successfully got his business card.
Following the assistant, Matthew and Dennis headed toward the legal office.
On the way, Matthew whispered, "That was it? The whole audition?"
"What did you expect?" Dennis replied with mild disdain. "You're just a background extra with no lines. One look is enough—as long as you don't look weird, anyone can do it."
Matthew nodded. That made sense—and it only reinforced how vital opportunity was.
Inside the legal office, a legal advisor handed Matthew a contract. He flipped through it but had trouble understanding it. His poor education was becoming a real issue. If he wanted to make progress in the future, he needed to catch up—at least in reading and writing.
He focused on the section about pay, then handed the contract to Dennis. Things like this were better left to the agent anyway. It wasn't like the pay was anything to write home about, and a proper production wouldn't try to scam a nobody like him.
Dennis skimmed the temporary contract and said, "Go ahead and sign."
Matthew signed his name, and the assistant who had brought them said, "You're free to go now. We'll call you when you're needed."
"Let's go," Dennis said.
Matthew blinked in confusion but followed him out.
"Why are they rushing us out?" he asked.
"They don't need you today. What, you thought they'd pay you just for hanging around?" Dennis snapped. "Six bucks an hour isn't nothing, you know?"
Matthew shrugged. The contract he just signed offered six dollars per hour—probably the local minimum wage. The production would have to pay him not just for shooting but for any time he was officially called in, even just to wait.
But the pay didn't go directly to him. The studio paid the talent agency, which then took a 10% cut before sending the rest to him.
In reality, he'd barely make anything.
Now Matthew truly understood why struggling actors often needed side jobs just to survive.
If a job like this could run twenty-plus days a month, it'd be enough to live on. But how many extras got that kind of steady work?
"Hey, Dennis…"
After that contract breach incident, Matthew really needed money. "When can this pay rate go up?"
"Too little for you?"
Since no one else was around, Dennis replied casually, "Join the actors' union. Your pay will at least double."
Matthew's eyes lit up. "Really?"
Dennis didn't even look at him. "Of course. The union mandates a minimum of ten dollars an hour, or $120 a day."
Matthew wasn't stupid. He immediately saw the catch. "So… production crews don't like hiring higher-paid union actors?"
Just like at a temp labor site—what boss wouldn't prefer cheap workers?
"You're pretty sharp," Dennis patted Matthew's shoulder like a mentor. "For someone like you, joining the union might seem like job security—but you'd be throwing away your only competitive edge."
He gave a sarcastic chuckle. "And you think it's easy to join the union?"
Matthew blinked. "I thought the entry requirements were low?"
"They are—but there are requirements," Dennis explained, walking ahead again. When Matthew caught up, he continued, "You need to be qualified first."
He coughed lightly and added, "First, you must have had a principal role in a union-contracted film, ad, or TV show, with union-level pay. Or, you must work 30 days in another union-level production—but you must apply for membership within those 30 days. Or, if you have proof of working three independent days on union-recognized projects, with payment records, you can qualify to apply."
Hearing this, Matthew immediately knew he didn't meet any of those qualifications.
"And you need money—lots of it!" Dennis grunted. "In L.A., the joining fee is $3,000. And with your situation, you'd still have to pay $58 in semi-annual dues."
"I'll just stay freelance," Matthew said at once.
"Not so dumb after all," Dennis muttered smugly.
Matthew glanced at his fat, smug face but said nothing.
As they reached the soundstage entrance, Dennis suddenly stopped. "You go back by yourself. I've got other business."
Before Matthew could respond, Dennis turned and disappeared into the soundstage.
Matthew frowned slightly. If he couldn't tell this was a classic case of being used and discarded, he really would be a fool.
It was obvious Dennis had only used him as a stepping stone to get into this production crew.
But Matthew shook his head. He couldn't dwell on that now—they had always been using each other.
Ignoring the agent busy trying to make more connections, Matthew left the Universal Studios filming area. While searching for a bus stop nearby, he spotted a large bookstore. It sat along the main tourist walkway and specialized in film and TV books.
He had planned to buy some books anyway. He immediately headed in.
Since it was still early, there weren't many people inside. Only two clerks stood at the register.
As he passed the checkout counter, he casually glanced behind it and noticed a running surveillance monitor tucked in a hidden corner.
He silently sighed—Even American bookstores have this kind of corruption? Installing surveillance in a place like this?
He wandered among the shelves until he found the section on acting. He pulled out a thick volume. The opposite shelf happened to be empty, so the book left a visible gap. Through that gap, he could clearly see into the aisle two rows over.
At first, he didn't think much of it—just a random glance.
But then, a woman caught his eye.
She had short, jet-black hair cut to the ears. Her facial features were so flawless they seemed sculpted. From this angle, she looked slim, pure, and breathtakingly beautiful.
Not just beautiful—she had an incredibly striking, androgynous coolness.