The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 239

The sun crept over the horizon, casting a cascade of light across the sky. Bright beams streamed through the car window, illuminating the faces of the soundly sleeping men. Clark Phillips woke with a start, his hand instinctively reaching for the camera around his neck. He aimed it at the iron gates set into an ivy-covered wall, only to find them still shut tight. It seemed no one had come or gone while he’d been dozing.

He glanced at his watch, rubbed his face to shake off the last traces of sleep, and stepped out of the car to stretch. Turning his head, he surveyed the scene. Most of his dozen or so colleagues were already awake, and every one of them wore a look of disappointment. They had been on stakeout all night without a single valuable story to show for it.

"What, is Horner one of those guys who doesn't like to party?"

Another paparazzo walked up, raised his camera, and snapped a few shots of the closed iron gates before complaining, "Shouldn't he be celebrating? He could gather a bunch of guys and girls, throw a party at the house... he'd have his fun, and we'd have something to shoot."

Clark turned to look at him and reminded him, "Don't forget, he has a girlfriend, Keira Knightley."

The man retorted, "But I haven't seen him with her in days. It's like they're not even in a relationship."

"I think..." Clark said, nodding slowly, "that's entirely possible."

Just as he finished speaking, the closed steel gate swung open. Instantly, every paparazzo in the vicinity, including Clark and his companion, raised their cameras and surged in that direction.

Matthew emerged, dressed in workout clothes and carrying two trash bags. He glanced at the paparazzi who had been camped out all night, crossed the street, and walked a short distance to the left to toss the bags into the bins. Then, with his headphones on, he started jogging down the road.

The paparazzi trailed Matthew but made no attempt to surround him. An unspoken understanding existed between most of them and the stars of Hollywood—they were a strange pair, each needing the other.As Matthew began his morning jog, a few paparazzi followed. Clark stayed behind. He had tailed him two days ago; Horner just ran in the mornings, never providing any newsworthy moments.

He opened the trunk of his car, pulling out a long metal rod and a pair of rubber gloves. After snapping the gloves on, he approached the bins where Matthew had just tossed the garbage. With the metal rod, he began to poke and sift through the trash bags.

His companion, equipped with a similar tool, joined him and began rummaging through the other trash bag.

Clark searched for a long time but found nothing of value. Finally, he gave up and looked over at his colleague, who shook his head, clearly having found nothing useful either.

Still, neither of them considered chasing after Matthew on foot. The guy had incredible stamina; they would be exhausted in no time if they tried to keep up.

Matthew jogged alongside a secluded stretch of woods, glanced back, and saw that the few paparazzi who had followed him were now far behind. He pulled out his phone, stopped the energetic music playing, and dialed Keira Knightley's number.

Then he adjusted his headset so that the microphone was closer to his mouth.

Keira answered quickly. "What?"

Matthew slowed his pace slightly. "Are you all packed? I can come get you after breakfast."

On the other end of the line, Keira sounded hesitant. After a moment of silence, she said, "Maybe this afternoon. I haven't packed yet."

"Okay," Matthew agreed easily. "I'll swing by this afternoon."

He urged, "Make sure you dress nicely. There will be a lot of paparazzi and reporters."

Keira ignored his advice. "Is my room ready?" she asked instead.

Matthew turned and started jogging back the way he came. "Didn't I show you the photos of the room?" he replied.

"I'm going to be staying there for a while," Keira said, her tone clearly contrary. "Why didn't you replace the door?"

Matthew replied, a bit awkwardly, "It's a rental. The landlord wouldn't agree to it."

After a few more brief exchanges, he ended the call and picked up his pace, heading back toward the house.

...

Clark had just finished his takeout and was now leaning against his car, smoking out of sheer boredom. He glanced occasionally at the ivy-covered wall nearby. It was high, completely obstructing the view and separating the property from the outside world, making it impossible to see anything inside.

The house itself was a one-story structure with an attic but no balcony or terrace, which meant fewer opportunities for a good shot.

Many Hollywood stars, after having too much to drink at a party, would stumble out onto a balcony to be sick. Those were the moments that made for great photographs.

It seemed this Matthew Horner had deliberately chosen a house like this to protect his privacy.

He had been following Horner since the release of Pirates of the Caribbean and found that the women Horner interacted with most often were Helen and Keira Knightley.

The first was his agent, and stars and their agents weren't stupid enough to get involved. The second was his official girlfriend, though they never seemed to actually be together.

As the sun climbed higher, Clark noticed a few of his colleagues giving up and leaving one by one, likely without a single valuable shot. Yet, at the same time, more people were arriving to stake out Horner's house. Matthew was a legitimate star now. Pirates of the Caribbean was still a hot topic, and his every move was potential news.

"Hannah," Clark asked, seeing a familiar face. "Aren't you tailing Schwarzenegger? What are you doing here?"

The female paparazzo named Hannah walked up to the car and said, "'Terminator 3' is doing poorly at the box office. I don't think any of my readers are interested in an old bodybuilder."

Then she asked, "Been here all night?"

Seeing Clark's nod, she said, "In case you haven't noticed, on this week's list of most-viewed stars on IMDb, Matthew Horner took second place after Johnny Depp."

"Second place?" Clark was a little surprised.

IMDb was a site where many movie fans gathered, and it was becoming more and more influential. For a star to get into the top five of the most-viewed list, even after a new movie release, was a very big deal. The fact that Horner had climbed to second place with Pirates of the Caribbean was proof of how much attention he was getting from movie fans.

This meant his decision to stick around was the right one.

The only other option was to tail Johnny Depp, but Depp had been famous for years. He lacked the "freshness" that the press and their readers craved.

A newcomer like Matthew Horner, bursting onto the scene, was a much more compelling story.

Hannah, who seemed to have a good relationship with Clark, added, "One paper is offering a five-figure reward for noteworthy photos of Matthew Horner."

Clark shook his head. "I've been following him for a few days and haven't found a single noteworthy story."

Hannah seemed to know something. "Just wait a bit," she said. "I have my sources. Matthew's an active guy, not the type to stay lonely for long. I think something hot is about to break."

"Let's hope so."

Clark waited patiently while making small talk with Hannah. Patience was a necessary quality for a paparazzo; a stakeout could go on for a week without results, but who could say when a great story would break.

...

As noon approached, the long, boring wait prompted most of the other paparazzi to leave in search of food. Clark and Hannah remained. Just as they were discussing where to go for lunch, the gates across the street swung open. Matthew emerged, got into his BMW parked at the curb, and pulled out, heading for Interstate 5.

Without a second thought, Clark jumped into his car. Hannah pulled open the passenger door and slid in beside him.

As he started the engine, Clark said, "If we get anything good... we split the money."

Hannah immediately agreed, "Deal!"

Clark drove quickly, soon falling in behind the black BMW SUV. He tailed it through Burbank, onto Interstate 5, and then west through West Hollywood, heading toward Beverly Hills.

"Keira Knightley is staying at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills, right?" Hannah asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Exactly!" Clark exclaimed, a thrill of excitement in his voice. "Horner must be on his way to see Knightley."

His eyes narrowed. "They haven't seen each other in a while. Maybe they're about to..."

Hannah said, "I have a friend who's a waiter at the Four Seasons. He owes me one. He can get us inside. We need to find a way to get the money shot."

"Perfect," Clark agreed instantly.

A five-figure reward was worth the risk. And since a hotel wasn't private property, the danger was far less than trespassing in a private home.

Shortly after, the black BMW SUV ahead of them pulled up to the Four Seasons Hotel, turning into its exclusive driveway before coming to a stop at the entrance.

"He's not going inside?" Clark muttered, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Just then, a doorman opened the hotel entrance, and a tall, slender young woman emerged, pulling a suitcase behind her and carrying a bag on her back. Hannah recognized her instantly. "It's Keira Knightley!"

The pair quickly parked and grabbed their cameras, just in time to see Horner get out, take Knightley's luggage, and load it into the back. As soon as Knightley was settled in the passenger seat, Matthew started the engine and drove off, heading back the way they had come.

"Where are they going?" Hannah asked excitedly. "The airport?"

Clark started the car and followed, saying, "No, this isn't the road to the international airport."

The black BMW went back the exact same way, and when they left Beverly Hills, Clark and Hannah looked at each other and came to the same conclusion—they were returning to the residential area north of Burbank.