The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 167

Standing outside the Angel Acting Agency, Matthew faced the small crowd of seven or eight reporters, making no attempt to evade them. Universal Pictures had tipped off Helen that afternoon, and he’d made a point to watch the recording of Rex Reed’s interview that had been aired on NBC and posted online. He knew he had to play his part and match Reed’s provocative statements.

He had nothing personal against Rex—it was all for the sake of publicity.

And judging by the reaction so far, the publicity stunt was working beautifully.

Matthew was beginning to see that in an era before the internet had truly taken hold, the public was still largely naive to Hollywood's publicity tactics. They were surprisingly receptive to this kind of manufactured hype.

He looked at the reporters, already knowing what they wanted to ask.

"Matthew Horner," a short male reporter stepped forward and asked first, "Is it true you had a donkey delivered to Rex Reed?"

"Yes," Matthew admitted before adding, "Didn't he say he wanted to kiss a donkey's ass? I personally picked one out just for him."

Just then, a female reporter chimed in, "Mr. Reed said this morning that if The Scorpion King doesn't gross ten million dollars on its opening weekend, he’s sending the donkey back so you can kiss its ass."

Unwilling to show any weakness and knowing he had to play along with the publicity demands, Matthew declared confidently, "I'll take that bet! I believe in this movie!"

Having said all he needed to, he didn't linger. He got into his car and drove off.The buzz surrounding The Scorpion King continued to grow. Although its Rotten Tomatoes score had settled at sixty-three percent now that the review embargo was lifted, the conversation was lively, and there was no shortage of public interest.

Some industry tracking agencies even predicted that The Scorpion King was likely to break the thirty-million-dollar mark on its opening weekend.

They cited two main reasons for their projection: first, the lack of any strong competition in the April release schedule, and second, the film's exceptionally well-executed marketing campaign.

The Thursday evening preview screenings would be the first test of whether those predictions would hold true.

On Thursday evening, The Scorpion King began its run in major North American cinemas with preview screenings in nearly 3,300 theaters. According to standard box office reporting, the revenue from these showings would be rolled into the opening weekend gross.

These preview numbers were often a reliable barometer for a film's opening weekend performance.

...

Late that night, in the office of the Angel Acting Agency, Helen stood before an enormous glass window, gazing out at the lights of Burbank without a word.

Nearby, Matthew was slouched on the sofa, clutching his phone and playing a game of Tetris.

He glanced up at the wall clock. It was already the early hours of the morning; the preview numbers should be coming in any minute. He couldn't help but stare at Helen. The young agent stood perfectly still before the window, her slim, wiry frame as motionless as a statue.

Matthew took a deep breath, trying to quell the anxious knot in his stomach. He went back to his game of Tetris, but his fingers trembled slightly on the buttons, causing him to make one mistake after another. The game was over in a flash.

How could he not be on edge? This moment would decide the entire course of his future.

Matthew let out another long breath and put his phone away.

Helen seemed to notice and glanced back at him. Her face, framed by old-fashioned, black-rimmed glasses, was as cool and unreadable as ever.

Tonight's results would determine her entire future strategy for Matthew Horner.

After two years of investment, if he couldn't even make a small splash, he had no future. He would have to be dropped.

If this paid off, he could be leveraged to land lead roles in two other major productions. The agency would then have a valuable client on its hands—a C-list, perhaps even a B-list star.

She knew Matthew was blessed with a handsome face and a great physique, but that was no guarantee of success. Plenty of attractive people failed in this town.

Putting his phone down, Matthew walked over to stand beside Helen, also looking out the window. He could never be entirely sure what she was thinking, or whether they would still be standing here together in the future, sharing this view of Burbank. Tonight would provide the answer.

Of course, that kind of rational calculation was what made an agent a professional. Any other agent in her position would make the same call.

They stood there in silence for a full fifteen minutes, but no news came.

Matthew's anxiety finally bubbled to the surface. He couldn't stop himself from asking, "Are you sure you talked to Sean?"

Helen shot him a look but didn't say anything.

"Maybe I should call and ask?" Matthew muttered.

His entire future was riding on this, and the agonizing wait was killing him.

"Go ahead and call if you want." Helen gestured behind her. "The phone's on the desk. You have Sean's number."

Instead of going to the desk, Matthew pulled out his own phone, debating whether he should actually call Sean.

Bzzz.

Helen's phone suddenly vibrated. Matthew watched as she answered it.

"Yes?" Helen listened for a moment, her expression still unreadable, then said, "Understood. Thank you."

She ended the call.

Matthew stared at Helen, and in that instant, he noticed the faintest hint of relaxation in the set of her face behind the dark-rimmed glasses.

"How much?" he asked, his voice tight.

Helen answered immediately. "The preliminary number is 3.4 million dollars. The final figure won't fluctuate by more than a hundred thousand, give or take."

Hearing the figure of $3.4 million, Matthew felt a profound sense of relief. As Helen had previously analyzed, for a film like The Scorpion King—a spin-off from The Mummy franchise rather than a completely original concept—the box office tends to be front-loaded. The opening day gross, including previews, is typically three to five times the preview number. Barring a few rare exceptions, most films followed this long-established Hollywood rule.

Based on that projection, even if the film's performance dropped off sharply, The Scorpion King could still recoup its forty-million-dollar production budget from the North American box office alone. Factoring in the typical performance of Hollywood films in overseas markets, it was now almost certain to turn a profit on theatrical receipts.

This would make The Scorpion King a certified success, and his own status within the industry would undoubtedly climb a rung on the ladder.

If The Scorpion King could just hold steady and not see a significant drop-off in Saturday's box office, the result would be fantastic.

If that happened, he would officially become a C-list star. He would finally escape the ranks of unknown actors at the bottom of the Hollywood pyramid and secure a place in its upper echelons.

"Congratulations, Matthew," Helen said, interrupting his reverie. "You're one step closer to your goal."

Matthew let out a joyful, almost cocky laugh. "I told you I was born to be a star. You made the right call investing in me, didn't you?"

Helen ignored his boasting, letting out a dry scoff. "Just get ready," she said. "Your life is about to change dramatically."

Matthew, who had been waiting for this day for so long, let his smile fade into a more serious expression. "I've been ready for a long time."

Helen gave him a look. "Let's hope so."

She pulled out her chair, sat down, and added, "We'll be negotiating a new contract. Three years, maximum."

Matthew considered this for a moment. "Alright. We can discuss the specific terms."

Though he was eager to climb higher, he knew he still needed the Angel Acting Agency. With the success of The Scorpion King, he would become their number one client, untouchable. All of Helen's resources—the agency's entire focus—would be directed toward him.

He'd never get that kind of treatment if he jumped ship to another agency. At a larger firm, he'd just be one of many clients on their roster.

"Our current contract doesn't expire until the end of the year, so there's no rush," Helen said, extending an olive branch. "If you sign a new three-year contract, I'll lower my commission from ten percent to eight."

Matthew turned, opened the door, and said, "Alright."

Helen, who was clearly in a good mood for once, said with feigned calmness, "Don't get too excited. Things can change in an instant."

Matthew glanced back before closing the door. "You know as well as I do that it won't."

The office door clicked shut. Helen leaned back in her chair, alone now in the quiet room. She slowly removed her glasses, and then, unexpectedly, she burst out laughing—a loud, unrestrained sound of triumph.

It was an uncharacteristically joyous laugh.

Finally, her career was about to truly begin!