The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 594

In a house in Flushing, Queens, Phyllis sat alone in the empty living room. She picked up a copy of the New York Post and let out a soft sigh, her eyes fixed on the promotional poster for "I Am Legend." The premiere was just ten days away, right here in New York, but for her, it might as well have been on another planet.

Her gaze drifted to the photographs of her parents on the wall, and a fresh wave of grief washed over her, her eyes stinging with tears.

The past few months had delivered one devastating blow after another, leaving Phyllis feeling as though she was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of it all.

It had started with the car accident. Her parents had clung to life for weeks in the hospital, but in the end, they were gone. Their loss left her with more than just a profound sense of grief; it left her drowning in debt.

Years of hard work had placed her parents firmly in the middle class, but like so many Americans, they lived on the edge of their means. They were accustomed to overextending themselves, with credit card balances, a mortgage, and car loans that meant they were, in reality, working for the bank.

The accident had happened on a weekend. Their employers offered little more than a token payment of condolences before moving on. The auto insurance paid out, but their flimsy health insurance plan failed to even cover the hospital bills from those final weeks.

Phyllis had sold off what she could—the family's leather sofa, the piano she’d learned to play on—just to settle the hospital's final bill. But the mortgage and the car payments were another matter entirely; she simply couldn't afford them.

Ding-dong!

The sudden chime of the doorbell cut through the silence. She slowly rose from her chair, crossed the living room to the foyer, and peered through the peephole to see a middle-aged man in a suit standing on her porch.

She recognized him. She’d spoken with him on the phone before. He was from the bank.The bell chimed again. With a heavy sigh, Phyllis opened the door. The moment the man saw her, his expression settled into a practiced, professional smile.

"Hello, Ms. Beretta. I'm here to inform you that your parents, Mr. and Mrs. Beretta, have been in default on their home loan for six consecutive months, beginning in May. The bank has now officially filed a lawsuit."

He opened his briefcase, retrieved a document, and held it out to her. "This is the official notice."

Phyllis accepted the papers, her hands trembling slightly as she scanned the pages.

The man continued, his tone unchanging. "Ms. Beretta, you have one week to either pay the outstanding balance or vacate the premises. If the loan is not settled within that time, the bank has the full legal right to take possession of the property. We will sell it at a no-reserve auction. After the principal, interest, and associated fees are recovered, any remaining balance will be forwarded to you in due course."

"Ms. Beretta." The professional smile remained plastered on his face. "I'll leave you to it, then. I suggest you begin making arrangements."

With that, the man turned and walked away.

Clutching the papers, Phyllis retreated back into the house, her eyes once again finding the photograph of her parents.

She didn't know how long she stood there before the ringing of her cell phone broke the silence.

Phyllis answered, recognizing the caller. It was Kristen, a friend who had been calling to check on her every few days.

"Hey, Phyllis," the familiar voice said as soon as she picked up. "How are you holding up?"

"Not well," Phyllis admitted, her voice flat. "The bank just paid a visit..."

She quickly explained what had happened.

On the other end of the line, Kristen paced her room, listening to her friend's plight. A sheen of anxious sweat formed on her forehead, a testament to her helplessness.

She was just starting her career and barely making ends meet. Savings were a distant dream; in the past, she’d even had to ask her own parents for help with her loans.

Her parents were supportive of her, but asking them to help a friend for no apparent reason was out of the question. She knew exactly how they'd react.

"Oh, honey, don't give up hope," she offered, her voice full of forced optimism. "We'll figure something out. It's going to be okay!"

For the moment, empty platitudes were all Kristen could offer. She simply couldn't see a way out.

After hanging up, she raked a hand through her hair, her mind racing. One moment she was cursing the banks, the next she was blaming the politicians in Washington.

But none of that did anything to solve Phyllis's immediate crisis.

Kristen paced her room frantically until an idea sparked in her mind. Phyllis was a well-known member of Matthew Horner's official fan site. What if she posted about her situation there? Could it possibly get some attention?

Matthew's fanbase was massive. There was strength in numbers, she reasoned. Maybe, just maybe, it could be the solution to Phyllis's problem.

No sooner had the thought occurred than she was acting on it. Kristen rushed to her computer, logged onto the fan site, and quickly drafted a post about Phyllis, complete with a photo and text, before uploading it.

Then, all she could do was wait and see what would happen.

The fan site was always active, and just a few minutes later, Kristen refreshed the page. Dozens of comments had already appeared below her post.

Just then, her phone rang. Expecting it to be Phyllis, Kristen answered without checking the number, but it was an unfamiliar caller.

She pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello, this is Kristen Johnson."

"Hello, Kristen," a man's voice said from the other end. "It's Brian Lister. Do you remember me?"

Kristen's mind raced. "Yes," she replied quickly. "Hello, Brian."

She'd met him a few times at fan events. Brian Lister was one of the key figures in the Los Angeles chapter of Matthew's fan club, and rumor had it he had a direct line to Matthew's team.

His voice came through the line again. "I just read your post. Is her story true?"

"Of course!" Realizing the weight of Brian's influence within the fan community, Kristen answered without hesitation. "Yes, it's absolutely true!"

She recounted everything she knew, adding at the end, "If anything, Phyllis's situation is probably even worse than what I described."

The line went quiet for a moment. When Brian spoke again, his tone was serious. "I'm going to text you my email address. Send me all of Phyllis's information—her full name, her contact details. I'll see what I can do to help."

"Okay!" Kristen let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Five minutes later, an email landed in Brian's inbox. He opened it and read through the details carefully. Wasting no time, he made a few calls—first to Phyllis to gently confirm the story, then to the bank in question. He even found the public default notice online. Everything seemed to line up, but he knew he had to be absolutely certain of its authenticity before proceeding.

Bella had given him instructions at the beginning of the year: if any of the most dedicated, long-time fans were facing genuine hardship, he was to report it to her immediately.

Brian was no longer the naive kid he used to be. As his father often remarked, he had built a real career for himself, becoming not just a professional in his field but a well-known figure, earning a substantial income.

He had a good sense of why Bella had given him this task, and he never submitted a name lightly. Bella had also stressed that this was a measure to be used only in dire emergencies.

Brian understood the gravity of the request. And Phyllis's case was a textbook example of what Bella was looking for.

He forwarded all of Phyllis's information to Bella in an email, then immediately followed up with a phone call.

Outside the CBS studios in Burbank, Bella ended the call. She headed back inside, where Matthew was in the middle of a taped interview. He wouldn't be able to check his email for a while.

She waited until the recording was finished. When she saw Matthew head toward his dressing room, she held back. The walls were paper-thin, and this was not a conversation for prying ears.

It was only after he emerged from the dressing room and they were walking to his car that she finally filled him in on the details from Brian's email.

Matthew listened intently as Bella laid out the situation. He tapped a finger against the armrest of his car seat, a thoughtful expression on his face. "The name Phyllis sounds familiar," he mused. "Have someone do a thorough background check, and Bella... I want you to fly to New York and contact her personally."

With that, he pulled out his phone and made a series of calls, one after the other, to Amanda, Helen, and Ilana, summoning them all to Horner Manor to discuss the matter.