The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 117: A Story of Modern War

"What did I do?" Matthew genuinely had no clue what Vin Diesel was talking about.

Ignoring the curious glances from the people around them, Diesel shot back, "Universal Pictures dropped me after The Fast and the Furious! That was you, wasn't it?!"

Matthew scoffed. "Use that bald head of yours for a second. Do you really think I have any sway over Universal Pictures?"

It was laughable. If he could influence the decisions of Universal Pictures executives, why would he even need to act in movies?

But Diesel’s demeanor didn’t soften in the slightest.

After getting the informal notice from Universal Pictures, he’d spent a long time stewing over it. The more he thought, the more convinced he became that someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. And the most likely culprit was Matthew Horner—after all, he was the only person Diesel had ever clashed with who might have a connection to the studio's executives.

Sean Daniels clearly had a close relationship with Matthew, and Daniels was a producer with deep ties to the production department at Universal Pictures. He must have been the one to set him up, poisoning Daniels’s ear against him.

A sneer of contempt twisted Diesel's face. "You really expect me to believe you?"

The people nearby weren't overtly staring, but their sudden silence proved they were all listening intently. Seizing the opportunity, Matthew raised his voice. "Shooting started at eight in the morning, but you wouldn't show up until one in the afternoon! You'd sleep in your trailer on the lot and couldn't care less about the crew's time! You demanded last-minute script changes and threatened to walk off set if you didn't get them."

In the space of ten seconds, Matthew had laid out all of Diesel’s on-set transgressions."What?" someone in the crowd whispered. "He's worse than Harrison Ford."

"Where did this guy come from? Since when is there another A-list star in Hollywood?"

Diesel stood his ground, his expression suggesting he genuinely believed he was an A-lister entitled to such behavior. "So what? Are you saying I can't do that? You think I haven't earned the right? You're just a nobody. You'll never command that kind of respect."

Matthew shot him an irritated glare, his hands clenching into fists. The memory of what happened on the set of The Fast and the Furious was still fresh, and he had a persistent urge to plant his fist on the man’s shiny bald head, just to see what would happen.

But he was not, of course, foolish enough to throw the first punch.

He gave a slight shrug. "So, you’re just an on-set tyrant."

"What?" Diesel's face flushed with rage. "What did you just say, you son of a bitch?"

He lunged forward, ready to throw a punch. Matthew held his ground, waiting. Diesel had started this, and if Diesel threw the first punch, not even the producer, Sean Daniels, or the director, Stephen Sommers, could blame him for what happened next.

But before Diesel could make his move, a solid man standing six-foot-three stepped between them and roughly grabbed his arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" Brendan Fraser glared at Diesel. "Are you trying to ruin my premiere?"

"Brendan," Matthew started, stepping forward, but Fraser cut him off with a broad wave of his hand. "Stay out of this."

Matthew fell silent, not pressing the issue.

Hearing the commotion, Sean Daniels, the film's producer, hurried over. He emerged from the crowd with four security guards in tow, fixed his gaze on Diesel, pointed a finger, and commanded, "Get out! Right now! Get the hell out of here!"

Then he turned to the assistant trailing behind him. "Schedule a meeting for me tomorrow with the executives at Universal Pictures."

Brendan took a few steps back to stand beside Matthew as the four security guards encircled Diesel. "You need to come with us," the one in charge said firmly.

Ignoring the stares of the onlookers, Diesel shot Matthew one last cold glare, then turned and walked toward the exit of the tent, flanked by the guards.

"Excuse me, everyone," Sean Daniels announced to the crowd. "The premiere will continue."

Brendan said to Matthew, "That's how you have to handle guys like him."

Matthew smiled. "Thanks."

He glanced over at Sean Daniels and approached him, saying with genuine sincerity, "I'm sorry, Mr. Daniels. I didn't mean to bring a personal vendetta to your premiere."

"I heard what happened," Sean Daniels assured him. "He was the one who started it. You're not at fault."

He frowned slightly, recalling how he'd been the one to reject the bald actor. A sudden thought struck him: perhaps Diesel wasn't just targeting Matthew Horner, but him as well. And if that was the case...

...

Soon, order was restored in the tent, and a staff member alerted Matthew that it was his turn for the red carpet.

"Relax," Brendan said, assuming Matthew was nervous. "Just think of it as a casual stroll."

Matthew, who had walked a red carpet once before, simply nodded.

When the actress ahead of him reached the middle of the red carpet, Matthew adjusted his bowtie, stepped out of the tent, and started down the walkway onto the carpet itself.

"Who is that?" an unfamiliar journalist asked.

Another reporter replied, "He's an actor in the movie."

A third added, "His name is Matthew Horner. He played Ronald Speirs in Band of Brothers. By the way, have you seen the series? I highly recommend it, the story is excellent."

Compared to the press corps, very few people in the crowd on either side of the carpet knew who Matthew was. About a third of the way down, he spotted someone holding a Scorpion King poster and was about to go over and sign it when a roar of excitement erupted behind him. He glanced back quickly and saw that Brendan Fraser had already stepped onto the red carpet.

He’s out already? Matthew thought for a second.

If he went to sign autographs now, he might run into Brendan, which could be awkward.

Looking back, he saw Brendan beaming, waving enthusiastically to the cheering fans. He seemed to be reveling in the feeling of being the center of attention.

Matthew decided against signing the autograph and quickened his pace toward the theater entrance.

In any case, Brendan had just helped him out.

In front of the theater was the media area. Matthew entered and took his place before the long press wall to pose for photos. His stylists had specifically coached him on how to pose, and he put on his best face for the cameras.

Matthew's handsome features, combined with his sunny and warm smile, drew the photographers' attention, and the shutters of their cameras clicked relentlessly.

Just then, Brendan Fraser came up behind him. Matthew tactfully ceded the photo area and moved on to the interview section.

Several reporters immediately approached him with questions. After Matthew had answered a few, he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder from behind. It was Brendan, who had come over to join him.

As soon as the lead actor appeared, everyone lost interest in Matthew, and their attention shifted to Brendan.

Matthew wanted to move on, but Brendan held his shoulder firmly, preventing him from leaving. He decided to stay put for a moment. After all, shrugging off Brendan's friendly gesture in front of the press would be too much.

Naturally, some reporters took note of their "closeness."

A middle-aged male reporter asked, "Brendan, are you and Matthew friends? You two seem close."

"Of course, we are!" Brendan raised the hand that was draped over Matthew’s shoulder and patted the top of his head, continuing in a tone like that of an older brother, "Matthew's my little brother on set. I helped him out, showed him the ropes of being an actor, and helped him overcome the challenges he faced."

He turned his head toward Matthew. "Isn't that right?"

All Matthew could do in that situation was nod. "Yes."

He spoke into the reporter's microphone, "Brendan and I are friends. His vast acting experience was a huge help to me."

Even though none of it was true, helping promote the movie was part of the job.

"Mr. Fraser," a female reporter with a Vogue press pass suddenly interjected, "I have to ask, did you choose this outfit yourself? Or is this the... 'masterpiece' of a stylist?"

Brendan didn't quite catch her drift. "Is there a problem with my outfit?"

With the blunt honesty of a fashion editor, the reporter said flatly, "If this is your stylist's work, you should fire them immediately. If you chose this yourself, then you have terrible taste."

Hearing that, Brendan's previously friendly smile vanished instantly.

The reporter showed Brendan no mercy, gesturing at his suit and publicly humiliating him. "Your suit is a perfect example of a red-carpet disaster. It looks like it was picked up at a prom rental shop. The pant leg is too long, the collar is too wide, and it’s paired with a tie that's far too thin. It couldn't be worse."

Brendan no longer bothered to hide his displeasure. His face was cold and grim.

"Especially standing next to Mr. Matthew Horner, which only highlights how awful it is!" The Vogue reporter then looked at Matthew with admiration and declared with the same directness, "Mr. Horner, you are the most handsome man I've seen tonight."

Brendan's gaze subconsciously shifted to Matthew, his expression remaining grim.

At her words, the attention of the other reporters instantly shifted. All eyes fell on Matthew, and Brendan's hand on his shoulder tightened involuntarily.

Caring about nothing but her story, the Vogue journalist continued, "Mr. Horner, your look is the highlight of the red carpet tonight! The centerpiece of this sleek and elegant silk-wool suit is the shawl collar with its plunging neckline, paired with a fitted white shirt that perfectly accentuates your physique. And your shoes are an ideal match, making them the best male accessory on the carpet. The dark embroidery on them adds a unique touch that stands in stark contrast to the tasteless..."

A whole string of compliments gushed from the reporter's lips, making Matthew break out in a cold sweat.

Beside him, Brendan maintained a stoic expression, having regained control of his features.