The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 89

The moment he saw the blonde woman, Matthew picked up his pace, almost breaking into a run. As he drew closer, he got a better look at her.

Unlike Britney, who was all sweet and sexy, this blonde had a rebellious edge to her style. A pair of huge, round earrings dangled from her ears, a small ring pierced her left nostril, and several bright green tattoos snaked down her exposed left arm from elbow to the back of her hand, though Matthew figured they were temporary.

A cigarette dangling from her lips would have completed the look.

"Sweet Britney, do you have any idea what it's like to win a Grammy?" the blonde's voice dripped with superiority. "I have two—for Best New Artist and Best Female Pop Vocal Performance. Oh, I'm sorry, I completely forgot. You don't have a single one, so you couldn't possibly know what it feels like to win a Grammy."

She then pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag, deliberately blowing a plume of smoke in Britney's direction.

"Aguilera!" Britney's voice was laced with anger, but she struggled to find a comeback, falling back on her usual retort. "You bitch!"

Christina just looked at Britney and shot back, "Oh, Britney. The media and the public don't know the real you. You're just trash—a lying, disgusting piece of trash."

Britney struggled to her feet, her face contorted with rage, just as Matthew reached their table.

The moment she saw Matthew, Britney instantly relaxed, as if she had found her anchor.

Ignoring Christina completely, Matthew wrinkled his nose at the overpowering scent in the air. "What is that smell? It's so pungent."Christina knew he was talking about her perfume and opened her mouth to speak, but Matthew cut her off, rubbing his nose. "It's awful. Smells like a moldy hot dog."

Britney couldn't help but break into a wide grin.

"You!" Christina glared at Matthew, furious. "Who the hell are you? You have no right to butt into our conversation!"

"I'm Ms. Spears's bodyguard," Matthew said, gesturing to Britney. "And tell me, if a young, beautiful, and energetic woman like Ms. Spears isn't a 'good girl,' then please, do explain."

Matthew's gaze shifted to Christina Aguilera's outlandish accessories. "How could someone with tattoos, a nose ring, and a smoking habit possibly be the 'good girl' in this picture?"

Britney beamed.

Christina's eyes widened, and she unconsciously stubbed out her cigarette.

Before Christina Aguilera could respond, Matthew added, his eyes fixed on her nose piercing, "And where I come from, the only things that wear nose rings are cows."

He made a yanking gesture with his hand. "You pull on the ring, and the cow will do whatever you want."

Britney couldn't hold it in any longer and doubled over with laughter.

Slam!

Aguilera slammed her hand on the table in frustration.

Matthew quickly added, "Miss Aguilera, please don't misunderstand. I was talking about a cow with a nose ring, not you."

"What security company are you with?!" Aguilera raged, ignoring him. "I'm going to report you! What you just said was... it was..."

Aguilera seemed at a loss for words, and Matthew interrupted her again. "Are you still trying to compare yourself to Britney?"

This time, he dropped all pretense and laid it out bluntly. "You're not as beautiful as Britney, not as sexy as her, your albums don't sell as well, and you're not as popular. Your status, your future in the pop music scene—none of it even comes close to hers."

The words were meant as much to humiliate Aguilera as they were to bolster Britney.

Not that it was entirely necessary. Aside from her two Grammy awards, Christina Aguilera had nothing to hold over Britney.

Any protest died on Aguilera's lips because she knew that most of what Matthew said was true—the irrefutable truth.

She had been compared to Britney since their days on the Mickey Mouse Club, and in every aspect, she had fallen further and further behind—in everything except those two Grammys.

Aguilera gave Matthew a long, hard look, then without another word, she grabbed her clutch, stood up, and walked away.

Her sudden departure took Matthew by surprise. Aguilera didn't seem nearly as malicious as Britney had described, and she was clearly more emotionally intelligent.

"Matthew!" Britney, however, was thrilled. "That was amazing! You told her off perfectly!"

Matthew felt a headache coming on. "How did you even run into her?" he asked.

"I don't know." Britney pointed toward the restaurant entrance. "She walked in right after you left to take that call, saw me, and came over. Then she just started picking on me."

"Do you remember what I told you?" Matthew saw Britney's confused expression and had to spell it out. "You shouldn't let people like Aguilera get to you. You're ahead of her in every way that matters. Your goal should be Madonna. You should be aiming to become the next queen of pop."

Britney's mood instantly soured. "But she has two Grammys."

"Grammys aren't everything," Matthew encouraged her. "The Grammys don't even like Madonna. How many has she won? But she's still recognized as the undisputed queen of American pop music!"

Britney nodded seriously. "I know."

Matthew had said a lot, but he wasn't sure how much of it had truly sunk in. Just then, the waiter brought their food, and Britney promptly changed the subject, talking about the meal and dropping all mention of Grammys and pop music.

After dinner and a bit more conversation, Britney had to get back to work. After seeing her off, Matthew went to the hotel lobby to check out and left the Hilton as well.

The following weeks were a whirlwind. The MTV Music Awards were fast approaching, and with them came an endless stream of promotional appearances.

Matthew stuck to his routine, and over time, the results of his training became more and more apparent, especially his boxing. Perhaps because he was naturally athletic, he had made great strides after nearly two months of practice.