The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 442

The sun had only just dipped below the horizon, but the grand entrance of the Angel's Wings club in the affluent waterfront district of Santa Monica was already ablaze with light. A red carpet stretched for a hundred feet, bathed in the glare of spotlights and lined with temporary barricades. Every twenty feet, a staff member in a sharp black suit stood watch, ensuring order.

Hundreds of journalists were packed on either side of the red carpet, and that wasn't even counting the representatives from major media outlets who had credentials to attend the charity auction inside.

A bald Black photographer was filming the club's entrance when the white reporter next to him jabbed him with a finger and exclaimed, "Look!"

The bald man instantly spun around, aiming his camera at the start of the red carpet where a black Mercedes-Benz sedan had just pulled to a confident stop. An attendant immediately stepped forward to open the door. Johnny Depp, wearing a pair of glasses, emerged first. He then reached back inside for a little girl, about seven or eight years old, and the two of them started down the carpet together.

"I win, Max," the bald man chuckled. "Depp's the first one here!"

The reporter named Max slapped his forehead. "Damn, I should've known."

The bald man focused his camera on the girl at Depp's side, zooming in for a close-up. "Is that his daughter?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's Lily Depp." Max was filming her too. "I heard she's Matthew Horner's goddaughter."

They had just made their way down the red carpet when another Mercedes pulled up, and two tall men stepped out of the car.

"Who are they?" the bald Black man asked, intrigued."Two of the lesser-knowns, James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender." Max had obviously done his homework on Matthew's circle of friends. "They're the ones I told you about."

Hearing they weren't famous, the bald man immediately lost interest.

The next car delivered a young woman with dark hair and blue eyes, and the bald man's attention was immediately drawn to her formidable chest.

"Who is she?" the Black reporter asked.

Max answered, his camera shutter clicking away, "Alexandra Daddario, a young actress from Horner's agency."

Once the dark-haired, blue-eyed actress had vanished inside, the bald man turned his attention back to the red carpet, where a lean actor was now walking. "I know him. Ben Foster."

"See, you know some people," Max offered, giving the bald man a rare compliment.

"It's weird," the bald man mused. "Have you noticed? Other than Johnny Depp, everyone here is a small-fry, an unknown actor."

Max didn't say anything, because even with all his knowledge, he couldn't name the latest arrivals either.

The red carpet was unusually quiet and orderly, lacking the usual frenzy of a major press event, because aside from Johnny Depp, all the guests were unknowns.

Most of the reporters, much like the bald man and Max, were just going through the motions, taking standard shots of the scene.

The bald man even lowered his camera for a moment. These small-time stars weren't worth the pictures; it was just a waste of battery and memory.

Spotting another unfamiliar face, he couldn't help but ask Max, "Is Horner really just counting on Depp to carry this whole thing?"

Max shrugged. "Who knows."

He knew Matthew had sent out plenty of invitations, but how many people would actually attend was anyone's guess.

The bald man shook his head. "If he doesn't get enough big names to anchor this thing, the whole event is going to feel second-rate."

He had barely finished his sentence when the small group of Horner's fans clustered near the start of the red carpet suddenly erupted with a tidal wave of screams, so loud it was as if Matthew himself had just appeared.

The door of the Mercedes that had just pulled up hadn't opened yet, so the bald man couldn't see clearly who was inside, though he could vaguely make out the silhouette of a long-haired woman through the tinted window.

The bald Black man peered curiously at the car. "Is that Keira Knightley?"

A staff member stepped forward and opened the car door. A woman, at once sweet-faced and sultry, emerged and took her first steps onto the walkway.

The bald man froze. Max froze. Every reporter nearby froze.

It was as if no one could believe that the pop diva was actually here.

The bald man muttered, "How in the world is Britney Spears here?"

Max, an entertainment reporter with a keen instinct for a story, immediately nudged him. "Come on, she's coming! Get the shot!"

The bald man fumbled to get his camera ready, adjusting the focus on Britney while muttering, "We've got a big fish on the line!"

Max nodded. "With Britney here, this party is going to be tomorrow's top story! She's as big as Madonna in the pop world right now! For her to show up at a dinner party... this is going to be huge."

The bald man knew that a story involving both Matthew and Britney would be like a nuclear bomb going off in the tabloids.

His camera was still tracking Britney's back as she walked away when another roar went up from the crowd, signaling the arrival of yet another major star. The bald man hurriedly swung his camera back toward the entrance.

It was Charlize Theron.

"Oh my God..." The bald man traced a cross over his chest with his free hand. "First the pop diva, and now the Oscar-winning ex-fiancée."

The assembled reporters were going wild, shutters clicking furiously as their minds raced, already framing the sensational headlines.

Charlize, wearing her signature cool expression, headed toward the entrance, where the back of Britney Spears was still faintly visible. Her own arrival had been slightly delayed, putting her on the carpet just moments after Matthew's other ex, nearly causing an awkward run-in.

Of course, she was unfazed. In Hollywood, running into your ex—or in this case, your fiancé's other ex—was hardly a rare occurrence.

Besides, she had been engaged to Matthew. Spears was just a girlfriend.

With both Britney and Charlize now on the scene, the bald man had no time to process anything else, because the next arrival was yet another big name.

Power-producer Jerry Bruckheimer arrived solo, while famed director Gore Verbinski was accompanied by his wife. The English rose, Keira Knightley, was as flat-chested as ever, a stark contrast to Scarlett Johansson, who wore a low-cut gown that perfectly accentuated her famous curves. The siblings David and Megan Ellison, children of the billionaire Larry Ellison, carried themselves with an air of importance, while Keanu Reeves looked as charmingly disheveled as always.

Then, a man with the UN logo embroidered on his shirt headed inside.

"You see that? The Latino man in the center—that's the new High Commissioner for the UNHCR."

The Black man's eyebrows shot up. "Top brass from the UNHCR is here? This dinner party is going to be one for the books..."

The words were barely out of his mouth when a chorus of shouts erupted around him. "Get the front of the carpet! Leonardo DiCaprio is here!"

"What?!" The bald man couldn't believe his ears, but his hands moved instinctively, raising the camera. "How the hell is Leonardo here? I've never heard anything about him and Horner being friends."

But there he was, the unmistakable, perfect face of Leonardo DiCaprio, already in his viewfinder.

What followed was even more unbelievable. Right after a representative from the National Charity Association, the legendary Tom Cruise himself appeared.

As he filmed Tom Cruise flashing his trademark charming smile and waving to the crowds, the Black photographer seemed completely baffled. "Did Matthew really invite this many A-listers?"

This was nothing like what he had expected.

But the surprises were only just beginning. A moment later, a single Mercedes delivered both Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg to the red carpet.

They were followed by Oprah, then Ridley Scott, and the list went on.

The charity dinner was starting to look more like the red carpet at the Oscars.

The bald man could only turn to Max and say, "Back when we were snapping photos of Matthew and Keira Knightley on that beach... could you have ever imagined he'd climb this high?"

Max shook his head decisively. "Never."

The procession of arrivals was finally winding down when a Cadillac pulled up, and out stepped Quentin Tarantino and his friend, Harvey Weinstein.