The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 525: Shia LaBeouf

After finishing the dubbing for the final scene, Matthew stepped out of the recording studio and asked the crew member escorting him for directions to the lounge.

The break room wasn't in the main office building, but in a small, four-story structure diagonally across the way.

Matthew entered through the front door of the smaller building and headed up the stairs. The place was deserted, likely a consequence of the recent mass layoffs at DreamWorks. He made his way to the lounge on the third floor, seeing no other employees besides a security guard dozing by the main entrance on the ground floor.

DreamWorks, once hailed as the seventh-largest giant in Hollywood, had clearly fallen on hard times.

As Matthew reached the third floor, the silence was broken by the sound of an argument. It seemed to be coming from a room somewhere down the hall. He couldn't make out the words clearly, but he distinctly recognized one of the voices: it was Megan.

The argument was emanating from a room with double doors at the end of the corridor. As he drew closer, the female voice became unmistakable—it was definitely Megan.

"You're insane!"

Matthew reached the doorway just in time to hear Megan's irritated voice.

"I'm not interested in you! Go get high in some drug den!"

A male voice, tinged with mania, shot back, "Don't play innocent with me! You're just another Hollywood slut!"Matthew peered through the doorway into what looked like a billiards room. Megan was cornered between two pool tables by a man whose face was flushed red. His eyebrows were arched high, his eyes were wide and wild, and his mouth was twisted into a bizarre, agitated grin.

Though Matthew had never touched the stuff himself, he'd been around this world long enough to recognize the signs. The guy was clearly high as a kite, lost in a state of chemical euphoria.

He also realized who it was: Shia LaBeouf, the same actor Michael Bay had been desperately trying to find.

Just as Matthew was taking in the scene, the agitated Shia LaBeouf lunged forward. He clearly didn't expect Megan to fight back.

But her high heels made movement difficult. Her kick missed its target—his groin—and the momentum sent her stumbling off-balance to the left.

Luckily, she managed to catch herself on the nearby pool table.

Shia reached for her again, and Megan opened her mouth to scream for help. But before a sound could escape, Matthew was there, grabbing Shia from behind and halting his advance.

"Who—?!" Shia roared, spinning around. "Who the fuck are you?!"

Matthew shoved him hard. Shia stumbled back, crashing into another table with a loud thud.

Matthew's gaze shifted to Megan. "Are you okay?"

Megan bit her lip and nodded.

She straightened up and moved behind him. "Thank you," she murmured.

At that moment, Shia struggled to his feet, turning to face them.

His bloodshot eyes glared at Matthew and Megan.

Megan warned in a low voice, "He gets delusional when he's high... Not that he's much better when he's sober."

Fueled by a potent chemical rage, Shia struggled back to his feet.

Matthew told Megan, "Get your phone out. Record this."

Megan immediately pulled out her phone, switched to video mode, and aimed it at Shia LaBeouf. She started recording as he stood there, glaring at them and grinding his teeth.

Back on his feet, Shia started toward them.

He got within four feet of Matthew when he saw a leg lashing out. He instinctively threw up his arms to block, but it was too late. A powerful kick slammed into his chest, sending him flying backward.

Shia's back slammed against the edge of the pool table, much harder this time. The impact was so sharp that it cut right through his drug-induced haze, flooding his body with pain.

"Aaargh!" Shia screamed in agony.

Over the pained cry, Matthew asked calmly, "When did he use?"

Megan whispered, "I don't know. Before the dubbing session, I guess."

She glanced at Shia, who looked like a wounded, rabid animal. "We should call the cops," she urged. "He's high, and he's probably got more on him. That's enough to put him away for a good long while."

Matthew turned to look at Megan. He guessed she must have put up with a lot from Shia during filming and had been holding it all in. Now, she wanted to see him pay, once and for all.

Matthew hesitated for a moment, then pulled out his own phone. "I'll call Spielberg," he decided. "Let him handle this."

Megan's grip tightened on her phone, her thumb hovering over the dial button for 911. She glanced at Matthew, considered the weight of Spielberg's name, and then tugged on his sleeve. "Fine. Let's just get away from this freak."

***

Once they were outside, Matthew called Spielberg. When the director picked up, Matthew gave him a brief rundown of the situation. Spielberg promised he'd be there in ten minutes and urged Matthew to keep the incident quiet.

As Matthew hung up and headed back down to the ground floor, the security guard who'd been napping earlier suddenly bolted past them, scrambling up the stairs in a panic.

Megan watched the guard disappear up the stairs, then turned to Matthew. "It's a good thing you were there," she said, a bitter edge to her voice. "Otherwise..."

She quickly changed the subject. "You saved my skin back there. How can I possibly thank you?"

Matthew led her out of the building and signaled for his driver to pull around. "Don't worry about it," he said.

That answer clearly didn't satisfy her. After a brief pause, she rose onto her tiptoes, leaned close to his ear, and whispered:

"Weren't you the one who wanted to ask me to dinner? Why don't you come over to my place? I'm a fantastic cook."