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Two workers walked ahead, carrying a massive bookshelf. It looked like it was made of rosewood—clearly expensive. Matthew followed them through the entrance. The first floor was a spacious hall filled with benches, and at the center stood a circular front desk. Bold black letters across it stood out:
Angel Talent Agency!
No one was stationed at the front desk, and the whole place still carried that fresh smell of renovation.
Seeing no one to receive him, Matthew hesitated for a moment, then followed the workers up the stairs to the second floor.
The bookshelf was extremely heavy. As the two workers ascended, the one in the back bent at the waist under the strain. They'd only gone up a few steps when he suddenly lost his grip—the bookshelf dropped sharply and looked like it would come crashing down the stairs, potentially crushing someone's legs.
Matthew, a man from humble beginnings, had an instinctive sympathy for blue-collar workers. Without hesitation, he stepped in from the side and caught the shelf.
He was strong—really strong. The bookshelf immediately steadied. The front worker, feeling the weight lift, turned around and quickly said, "Thanks!"
"No problem," Matthew nodded slightly. "Let's go."
Since he had already lent a hand, he didn't intend to stop halfway. He helped the two workers carry the bookshelf all the way upstairs.
"This way—careful now!"
At the top of the stairs stood a woman in her twenties, directing the workers to move things into an office. "Easy now—don't scuff the floor!"
The flooring was fresh and glossy—clearly brand new.
Matthew helped the workers move the bookshelf into the office and set it behind a large rosewood desk.
"Thank you!"
The younger worker smiled at Matthew. "If it weren't for you, this thing would've been dinged up."
"It's nothing." Only then did Matthew notice the worker was around his age—early twenties at most. He replied casually, "You're being too polite."
As they walked out together, the young man asked, "You work here?"
Matthew shook his head while walking. "Nope."
Outside the office, he saw the woman from the stairs handing out tips to the workers. She soon approached him.
She handed him a dollar bill, but Matthew didn't take it. "Are you with Angel Talent Agency? I'm an actor. I called you yesterday."
"Oh?" The woman looked surprised. So did the young worker, who quickly spoke up, "He just helped us because the shelf was too heavy."
"You're an actor too?" the woman asked the young worker.
To Matthew's surprise, the guy nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I am! I was making a delivery today, thought I'd stop by and check the place out."
"Wait a moment," the woman said and turned to finish dealing with the workers.
Matthew took a glance around—it looked like this agency only had one employee.
"Hi!" the young worker introduced himself. "Michael Sheen, from Nevada."
"Nice to meet you," Matthew nodded lightly. "Matthew Horner, from Texas."
The woman came back and waved them over. "You two—come with me."
Matthew followed her into an office, with Michael right behind.
The woman opened her laptop and motioned for them to sit. "I'm Helen Herman, owner of Angel Talent Agency."
She asked, "Did you bring your materials?"
"I did," Matthew said, pulling a folder from his bag.
Michael smacked his forehead. "Crap, mine's still in the truck. I'll go get it!"
Helen nodded. "Go ahead."
Michael dashed off.
Matthew took the chance to size the woman up. After his experience with Dennis Kurt, he was cautious around agents.
Helen was about 5'7", with the deep brown hair common among American women, neatly tied back. Her face was sharp, with strong features. Black-rimmed glasses sat on her pronounced brow ridge. She wore a gray business suit that gave her a very sharp and professional vibe.
At least in terms of appearance, she made a better first impression than Dennis Kurt.
Matthew handed over his materials. Helen began entering the data into her laptop, typing as she spoke. "Congratulations, Matthew Horner. You're our agency's very first client."
"First?" Matthew blinked. "This agency just opened?"
"I posted the first recruitment ad yesterday," she replied without looking up.
Curious, Matthew asked, "Are you the only one working here?"
"There are two of us, but I'm the only one here today."
"Do you have a side job?" she asked.
"I do—night shift driver," Matthew said simply. "Lots of waiting around, time to rest. Doesn't interfere with daytime gigs."
Helen nodded. "Planning to stick it out in Hollywood for the long haul?"
"No doubt. I want to be a big star. Make big money."
As he spoke, he watched her expression carefully. If she were like Dennis Kurt, she'd be sneering by now.
But she didn't even blink. She simply looked up and said, "Having goals is good."
She stopped typing and looked directly at him. "If you're in this for the long run, you need a steady side job. For the next few years, your acting gigs won't pay the bills. Driving sounds like a solid option."
Matthew nodded. That's exactly why he stayed at Red Penguin Company.
Sure, there were higher-paying jobs, but none gave him the flexible schedule he needed. Minimum-wage jobs at places like McDonald's or KFC weren't even worth it in comparison.
"Are you part of the union?" Helen asked.
"No," Matthew shook his head. "Haven't joined."
"Why not?"
"Money," Matthew replied frankly. "I don't have three grand for the membership fee. And I'm worried the high minimum wage might hurt my chances."
Helen kept entering his info, but paused at one section and asked, "Your first role had lines?"
"Yeah," Matthew nodded, worried she wouldn't believe him. "Filming just wrapped yesterday. Lots of crew can confirm it."
"Who got you into the production?"
That was the key question.
"Jolie," Matthew said, riding that name again. "Miss Angelina Jolie recommended me."
"Oh?" Helen paused, looking up. "You're close with her?"
Matthew shook his head. "Not really. If I were, I wouldn't be here."
Helen kept staring.
Matthew explained, "It was a lucky break. I helped her out with something, and she got me a role with two lines."
Though she said nothing more, Helen added a special note to his profile. With that, the data entry was done.
She looked at him and said, "Keep your phone on, twenty-four-seven. If something comes up, I'll call."
It was the same spiel every agency gave. Matthew didn't expect special treatment. He stood up, exchanged a polite goodbye, and left the office.
Just as he reached the stairs, Michael Sheen came jogging up.
"All done?" he asked. "Heading out?"
"Yep," Matthew nodded. "Filed my info—now I wait for a call."
"How many gigs you had so far?"
"Just one," Matthew sighed. "Competition's brutal."
"Don't worry. It'll get better," Michael grinned. "I was the same way at first. Now I've done over twenty roles."
Maybe because Matthew had helped him, the young mover added, "You should file at as many agencies as you can. More exposure, more chances."
"That's my plan. Thanks—I'll hit a few more tomorrow."
Michael headed off to file his info. Matthew left the building, grabbed a stack of newspapers from a nearby stand, and headed into a park. He found a bench, sat down, and flipped through the ads, compiling a list of phone numbers to call and schedule more registration appointments.
Maybe because he already had one role under his belt, none of the agencies rejected him.
Over the next week, he kept to a routine: training his body, reading, and filing with more than twenty different actor agencies across the greater Los Angeles area. He even visited the two major actor unions, but various limitations kept him from joining just yet.
He did land another gig through one agency—a horror movie, playing a corpse.
Not exactly glamorous—face down on the ground, covered in blood-red ketchup. Just a passing shot. Pay was twenty bucks for three hours of work.
The kind of luck he had on girl, interrupted didn't come around often for nobodies like him. All Matthew could do was wait for his next break.
Thankfully, he still had the driving job, which kept him afloat.
Not long after getting his first paycheck from Red Penguin, Matthew finally got a call—from Vanessa, Angelina Jolie's assistant.
Jolie hadn't forgotten the favor. She followed through on her promise—and had secured him a place at an acting school.