The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 544

Every year, winter in Los Angeles brings the rainy season. Usually, the rain is nearly gone by late February or early March, but this year, an unusually wet weather pattern had settled over the city. The intermittent drizzle, while not particularly heavy, created a host of problems for the Academy Awards ceremony, especially for the arrivals on the red carpet.

For actors and actresses, the Oscars red carpet is the most significant public appearance of the year. The ceremony draws the biggest names and top media outlets, so whatever they wear is guaranteed to dominate news headlines and online media for the rest of the year.

Unlike Matthew and Alexandra, most celebrities hoping to attend the Academy Awards began their preparations a month in advance. Custom-made gowns and body-sculpting exercises were secondary concerns; for quite a few, the regimen included plastic surgery, injections, liposuction, and other surgical interventions.

It was peak season for the plastic surgery industry in Los Angeles.

For many celebrities, even plastic surgery wasn't enough to guarantee a flawless red carpet appearance. And given the demand from the massive entertainment industry, a whole ecosystem of related services had naturally sprung up.

Another peculiar service had taken root in Hollywood, one offered by many of the mainstream plastic surgery clinics in Beverly Hills.

To ensure they were in peak condition, prevent their stomachs from bloating, and avoid eating—or worse, needing the restroom during the ceremony—many Hollywood stars had found a solution.

Actresses would visit a professional, qualified plastic surgeon to receive intravenous vitamin supplements, administered via an IV drip. These drips contained a cocktail of B vitamins, such as folic acid and B12, designed to boost energy, combat fatigue, and ensure they appeared full of vitality.

Matthew hadn't been particularly aware of this at first; it was something he had once heard about from Scarlett Johansson.

Scarlett had also told him that whenever she attended the Oscars, most actresses carried strong painkillers to endure the agony of wearing stilettos for five or six hours straight.Women's fashion was often a form of bodily torture. Scarlett had told him about an even more frightening procedure: the 'vampire facial'.

Before a major red carpet or awards ceremony, some would undergo a special treatment known as the 'vampire facial' at a professional clinic.

According to Scarlett, a doctor would first draw the client's own blood, run it through a centrifuge to obtain a plasma concentrate rich in platelets and growth factors, and then inject it back into the face with a very fine microneedle. This process stimulated a massive growth of collagen and elastin, serving to restore and rejuvenate the skin.

In short, an entire army of dermatologists, cosmetologists, hairdressers, stylists, and personal fitness trainers was on full alert, all dedicated to making the stars look absolutely stunning on the red carpet.

In comparison, Matthew and Alexandra, who had dressed less extravagantly and simply skipped lunch to stave off hunger, might have seemed almost irreverent.

And of course, if the Oscar directors and producers had dared to cancel the red carpet because of the rain, they wouldn't have survived the night. The actresses, who had invested so much in crafting their appearances, would have torn them limb from limb.

To cope with the bad weather, the organizing committee had taken significant measures. They covered the stretch of Hollywood Boulevard in front of the Kodak Theatre with a white canopy, and at the start of the red carpet, they erected a massive tent capable of holding hundreds of people. Stars could wait inside after arriving by car before stepping onto the red carpet.

Matthew arrived relatively late, with Alexandra on his arm. By the time he stepped into the tent, dozens of people had already gathered inside.

"Relax," Matthew murmured to Alexandra, who was gripping his arm tightly. "Just stay with me. Think of this as practice for walking into your own restaurant someday."

Alexandra loosened her grip slightly, her icy blue eyes darting around the tent. "How can I not be nervous?" she whispered. "It’s my first time at the Oscars."

She gave Matthew's arm a gentle tug. "Clint Eastwood is headed this way," she warned in a low voice.

Matthew turned and saw Clint Eastwood was nearly upon them. He quickly stepped forward to greet him. "Hello, Clint."

Clint Eastwood extended his hand. "Long time no see."

"Not so long," Matthew replied with a smile, then gestured to the woman beside him. "Clint, this is Alexandra Daddario, my girlfriend."

Clint caught Matthew's meaning and was perfectly gracious to Alexandra.

Then he said, "I wanted to thank you... for the Spike Lee business."

Seeing Matthew about to speak, Clint raised a hand to stop him. "Hear me out. I've disliked that man for a long time, but there was little I could do besides bad-mouthing him in the media. Now that you've run him out of Hollywood, it's a real relief."

Matthew just smiled.

Clint continued in a serious tone, "If you ever need anything from an old timer like me, you just have to ask."

Hearing this, Alexandra's jaw dropped slightly. It was incredibly rare for someone of Clint Eastwood's stature to say something like that. It sounded less like a polite offer and more like a solemn promise.

She came from a wealthy family and was far from naive; otherwise, she would never have gotten as close to Matthew as she had.

A major Hollywood director, a titan who had been in the business for decades, was offering Matthew a favor...

Alexandra could well imagine the immense help Clint could provide if Matthew ever needed it.

As she listened to Matthew chat casually with Clint, she kept a smile on her face, doing her best to look like part of the conversation even though she couldn't get a word in edgewise.

After chatting for a bit longer, Clint excused himself. Matthew was just about to leave the tent's entrance when a familiar voice called out from behind.

"Matthew Horner!"

Hearing the voice—not particularly loud, but laced with an arrogant edge—Matthew turned. He saw a middle-aged man who looked vaguely familiar standing a short distance away.

Recognizing the man who had inadvertently given him his break in Hollywood, Matthew walked over and greeted him like a long-lost friend. "Hey, Jonny. I’ve missed you."

Hearing his words and seeing the look on his face, Jonny Lee Miller froze for a moment, completely at a loss for words.

Matthew, however, walked right up and clapped him cheerfully on the shoulder. "What's wrong, Jonny? Don't tell me you've forgotten me? We're old friends!"

Alexandra, who had followed Matthew over, glanced at Jonny Lee Miller's unfamiliar face. She was sure she didn't recognize him, which meant he couldn't be a major star.

She wondered why the man was standing there frozen, his expression a strange mix of someone who wanted to cry but couldn't.

"Matthew Horner!" Jonny Lee Miller had considered many different ways this confrontation could go when he first called out his name, but now he was simply flustered.

"Jonny, what is it?" Matthew asked, his tone still that of an old friend. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

A look of realization crossed his face. "Oh... I get it," he said. "The videotape."