Chapter 49: A Shortcut

"They're about to start filming."

Seeing someone approaching, Matthew said to Britney, "Let's talk again when there's time."

But Britney took his polite remark seriously. "Sure! Next time I'll invite you to one of my parties."

Having a shared interest—or rather, shared dislike—made chatting with Matthew quite enjoyable for her. "Give me your phone number."

Matthew opened his notebook, scribbled down a string of digits, tore off the page and handed it to her. Then he walked back to his seat.

The crew was nearly ready. Britney's assistant came over to let her know it was time to start.

They were filming Britney's scenes with the dance crew first. She left to join them. Under the tent, Matthew was now alone. The sun was already blazing outside. Since he was in full makeup, he couldn't just walk around—getting his look smudged would be a hassle.

After waiting for a while, his agent Helen Herman came over.

"I thought you'd left," Matthew said casually.

Helen pulled over a chair and sat next to him. "Looks like Britney has a good impression of you."

Matthew didn't deny it. "She seems okay with me."

"There's actually a shortcut in front of you," Helen said, looking at Britney in the distance. "If you can win her over, your popularity will shoot up."

"I know," Matthew replied honestly. "But would Britney even be into someone like me?"

Helen sounded a bit encouraging. "How would you know unless you try?"

"Would it actually help me?" Matthew asked seriously.

If he kept going at this steady pace, without much luck, it could take years to become a star.

"Fame is always useful, even if it's driven by media hype," Helen said plainly. From her perspective, if handled well, this could speed up her plans. If it didn't work, at worst, Matthew would get drowned in criticism from the media and Britney's fans.

And if he got ruined, so what? She could always find another actor.

Matthew, on the other hand, was seriously thinking about her suggestion. He couldn't decide right away.

Helen added, "As far as I know, Britney Spears is currently single."

"Oh…" Matthew responded instinctively. Not knowing what else to say, he mumbled, "I've never really chased a girl before."

His previous self—like many Americans—had fooled around plenty, but he'd never seriously pursued a relationship.

"How about this," Helen said, standing up. "Whenever you have time, prepare a full relationship history for me. The more detailed, the better."

This version of Matthew was different from the old one. "And if you start dating anyone, no matter who, let your agent—me—know right away."

That level of involvement was enough for now. After all, Matthew was still far from being a real star.

When Helen left, Matthew was alone under the tent again. He looked toward the beach. Britney was standing in front of eight dancers. Her low-rise pants and cropped T-shirt revealed her smooth waist and cute belly button. As the music started, she began to sway with the beat.

Matthew couldn't tell exactly what dance it was, but he knew one thing for sure—this Britney was no longer the "chubby" version. Her waist was killer.

As she twisted and turned in rhythm, many eyes—Matthew's included—were glued to her.

"It might actually… work," he muttered, stroking his chin. "Maybe Helen has a point?"

But then he shook his head slightly. Could someone like him really win over the Britney Spears?

Back in his old country or here in America, Matthew had never had a girlfriend. He had no idea how to woo someone, especially someone like Britney. And what he'd seen and heard about relationships—especially back across the Pacific—gave him some pretty discouraging ideas: Even if a man had potential, without money, status, or fame, it was nearly impossible to attract a girl.

Whether that was true or not, Matthew didn't know. He'd never tested it.

In his mind, going after a girl from his own social level would probably be doable. But aiming for someone like Britney Spears? That was like trying to beat a game on hell mode.

He sighed. Maybe this wasn't something worth worrying about right now.

Still, if the opportunity came up, he could always try. Even if it didn't work, at least he'd gain some experience.

The dance scenes had been rehearsed well in advance with Britney's regular backup dancers. Everything went smoothly. Most shots wrapped after just two or three takes. Soon, it was Matthew's turn to film.

This would be his fourth film shoot. While he didn't claim to be amazing, at least he wasn't nervous anymore, and he had learned how to avoid looking at the camera by mistake. The acting classes had paid off—he could now handle basic scenes just fine.

The crew moved to the beachside. Matthew stood barefoot where the waves just barely reached.

One makeup artist touched up his face, while a stylist adjusted his outfit.

Director Zack Snyder studied the scene through the camera, giving occasional instructions.

"Roll up the pant legs!" he shouted. "Show off his calves!"

The stylist knelt down on the damp sand, rolling up Matthew's white pants to just below the knee, revealing defined muscles.

Matthew's long legs and toned calves didn't ruin the look—in fact, they made him seem even more masculine.

"Great! Clear the set!" Snyder called out. "Let's do a test take!"

This was a solo shot—just Matthew, no one else.

"'Sometimes,' take three!" an assistant said, clapping the scene slate in front of the camera. "And... action!"

Matthew turned slightly toward the sea. A light panel was on his left, the camera on his right. But he blocked everything out, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly as he gazed into the distance—completely focused on projecting the image the director wanted.

His acting teacher, David Astor, had once said Matthew's performances were too shallow, relying heavily on looks—always trying to appear cool.

But in this scene, that was exactly what was needed.

Suddenly, a wind machine roared to life. The gust blew Matthew's hair back, making him look like a marble statue bathed in sunlight. The ocean lapped at the sand near his feet, with occasional sprays of water hitting his chiseled calves…

"Cut!" Zack Snyder seemed pleased. "Perfect. That's a wrap on this shot!"

The reflectors were pulled away, the camera shifted. Matthew followed the crew to the next location.

Back at the tent, the dancers were huddled together, watching the shoot. A few of the girls couldn't take their eyes off him.

"He's so hot!" said a brunette. "Young, mature… totally manly."

A Black girl disagreed. "Seriously? That face is hard like a rock, and all those muscles—yuck. Leo DiCaprio is still the best."

"They're not even the same type," a blonde chimed in, sipping her water. "Don't you see? This guy doesn't have a single feminine vibe. He's 100% masculine. That's a real man."

Just like guys talk about women when they hang out, girls love gossiping about men too.

"Alright, stop chatting!" the choreographer walked in. "You're up next. Go get ready!"

The four girls and four boys in the dance team went quiet instantly and lined up to touch up their makeup.

On the other side of the beach boardwalk, the set was already prepared. When Matthew and Britney arrived, Snyder immediately started the final briefing.

Standing near the cliffside, he spoke to Britney first. "Miss Spears, when we start rolling, you'll walk from here. Move a little slower than normal, like you're unsure or worried."

Britney nodded without a word.

Then Snyder walked over to Matthew. "You stay here. When she starts walking, look at her face with a bit of surprise and happiness."

Finally, he stood between them. "When she gets here, you both make eye contact—give me a feeling like sparks are flying."

He glanced at both. "Okay?"

"Okay," Matthew said.

The scene was simple—easier than some of the impromptu exercises from his acting class.

Filming started quickly. All Matthew had to do was wait for Britney to move, then lock eyes with her.

Both of them looked great on camera, though their expressions were pretty basic. But for an MV, that was enough.

When Britney reached the marked spot, she looked up. Matthew looked right at her. Their gazes met mid-air, as if no one else existed in their world.

From the director's point of view, the moment looked hollow. The chemistry wasn't really there. But again—this was a music video. Good looks covered a lot of ground.

"Cut! Good take!"

Matthew felt like things were going surprisingly smoothly today. And the director's standards seemed super low.

"Your eyes are really bright," he said to Britney.

She smiled and leaned in. "I'm wearing coloured contacts."

"Britney!" someone on the boardwalk called. "Change shoes, touch up your makeup—we're moving on!"

Matthew gave her a polite smile. "Go ahead."

He had no more scenes for now—his next shoot was in the afternoon.

After grabbing his work bag and a drink of water, he stepped out of the tent. He planned to head back and remove his makeup. As he walked onto the wooden boardwalk, filming resumed again.

This time, it was another dance number featuring Britney and her backup crew.

Matthew had just started toward the makeup area when a sudden scream pierced the air from the filming area.

Then someone shouted, "Quick! Call the medic!"