Chapter 52 – A Proper Ending

"There's no language class this afternoon."

As they walked out of the acting classroom together, Rachel McAdams asked Matthew, "Where are you going? Hollywood Boulevard?"

Matthew thought for a moment. "I want to buy a phone," he said, turning to Rachel. "Do you know any place nearby that sells phones?"

His old second-hand phone had terrible sound leakage. It was time for an upgrade.

"There's a big mall east of Ventura Boulevard," Rachel said, having been there before. "They've got mobile phone counters. Nokia, Motorola—you name it. Want me to go with you?"

Matthew nodded. "Sure. Help me pick one out. I don't really know much about these things."

By the time he had started using phones in his past life, smartphones were everywhere. These old models were practically antiques to him.

"I'll go get the car," Rachel said, heading toward the parking lot. "Meet me at our usual spot by the school gate."

Rachel went to get the car while Matthew walked to the school entrance alone. As he walked, he thought about the tabloid rumor from American News Report that had linked him to Britney Spears. Should he visit her in the hospital?

There were probably a ton of reporters waiting outside, weren't there?

Just then, his second-hand phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number.

"Hello, this is Matthew Horner," he answered politely.

"It's me, Helen," came Helen Herman's voice through the receiver. "Are you still at school?"

Switching the phone to his other hand, Matthew asked, "You changed your number?"

"This is my private number," Helen explained briefly. "I'm not in L.A. right now. Britney's manager is trying to contact me. Don't use my old number for the next few days—call this one if anything comes up."

Matthew immediately understood what Helen was trying to do—she clearly wanted to let the fake scandal brew a little longer.

As he walked on, Helen continued over the phone, "Also, go visit Britney in the hospital today. Aren't you two close? You have to see it through to the end."

"Ah…" Matthew had already been considering it, but he didn't expect Helen to say the same. "I'll go this afternoon. Just need to buy a phone first."

Helen gave him one last reminder:

"If anyone from Britney's camp talks to you, remember—don't do anything! Don't make any promises! Just wait for me to get back. Right now, I need you to stay visible! With your current level of exposure, I can push for something much bigger!"

Matthew asked, "A new job?"

"Yes," Helen didn't deny it. "I'm working on a role for you in a mini-series. One with a lot of lines and real character development."

"Great! Fantastic!" Matthew had just reached the school gate and nodded excitedly. "I'll fully cooperate!"

If Helen was taking the role seriously, it had to carry more weight than that brutish tribal chief he played in Gladiator.

As he hung up and stepped outside the gate, a blinding flash suddenly went off, making him instinctively shield his eyes. Before he could even react, over a dozen reporters swarmed around him, shoving mics and recorders in his face.

"Mr. Matthew Horner, are you really dating Britney Spears?"

A barrage of questions flew at him—

"When did you start dating?"

"Have you slept with Britney?"

"Was she still a virgin when you got together?"

Matthew hadn't said a word, and the media had already drawn their own conclusions.

"Are you two getting married?"

"Are you dating her for ulterior motives?"

For a moment, Matthew was completely dazed. He'd never faced the media before and had zero experience dealing with them.

Thankfully, Helen's warning echoed in his mind—no matter what they asked, he kept his mouth shut and walked forward steadily.

He spotted Rachel McAdams's car parked just ahead.

But the reporters didn't back off. The flashes kept going off without pause, and the questions grew more absurd—one even asked if Britney was hospitalized because she was pregnant…

Compared to these guys, even that nosy reporter Elena Boyar seemed like a beacon of journalistic integrity.

After struggling through the crowd, Matthew finally reached Rachel's car. He found a small gap, made eye contact with her, and once she opened the passenger door, he darted forward, dodging a few reporters, and dove into the car. He slammed the door shut just as Rachel hit the gas and sped away.

As the car drove off and the reporters began to disperse, two men from the same news outlet lingered behind.

One held a recorder and asked the other, "Did you get footage of the woman in the car?"

"Sure did," the cameraman grinned. "She was blonde—and hot!"

"We've got our headline! This might even make the front page," said the other, chuckling. "Britney's new boyfriend caught sneaking around with another woman while she's in the hospital…"

The cameraman laughed too. A story this juicy was bound to draw readers.

As their car faded from sight, Matthew crossed himself dramatically.

"What are you praying for?" Rachel asked curiously.

"For the god of luck to bless me," Matthew said, just as dramatically. "So I could survive getting into this car."

He had read stories online about how crazy paparazzi could be. Back then, he lived on the other side of the Pacific, where one particular paparazzo and his studio were notorious. But seeing it online and living it in real life were two different things.

He used to think people like himself or even Elena Boyar were pretty shameless, but compared to those paparazzi, they were saints.

"Was it really that bad?" Rachel asked as she stopped at a red light. "A lot of people would kill for that kind of attention."

Matthew didn't answer and instead asked, "Why didn't you call to warn me?"

"I did," Rachel replied as she drove through the intersection. "But you were already on a call."

"Oh right!" Matthew slapped his forehead. "I was on the phone with my agent the whole time."

They arrived at the mall Rachel mentioned earlier, parked the car, and headed straight to the phone counter. Phones in this era looked bulky and primitive compared to the smartphones he once knew.

"What kind are you looking for?" Rachel asked in front of the counter. "Any specific features?"

"Cheap, and can make calls," Matthew replied bluntly.

What other features did you need in a phone from this era?

With saving money as the top priority, he bought a simple Nokia candy-bar phone based on Rachel's suggestion. It didn't do much, but it could make calls, which was all he needed.

"I thought you made decent money from those film gigs?" Rachel asked as they left the mall. "And you've got a good part-time job too. Why be so stingy with yourself?"

"I lost the part-time job," Matthew said helplessly. "Took too many days off, and they fired me."

"That's a shame," Rachel shook her head. "It was a great job for an actor."

"Tell me about it," Matthew sighed. "Finding something similar won't be easy."

As they neared the mall entrance, Rachel suggested, "Why not just go full-time as an actor?"

"I've thought about it," Matthew replied, "but I need to make enough to live."

He checked the time. "Let me treat you to lunch."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm meeting my agent for lunch. Gotta head to the other end of Ventura Boulevard."

"A job offer?"

"Maybe," Rachel wasn't sure. "I'll find out soon."

"You go then."

Had he known, Matthew wouldn't have dragged her along for phone shopping. "I'll call a cab."

After a bit more small talk, Rachel left first. Matthew called a cab, bought a bouquet of flowers, and waited outside the mall. When the cab arrived, he told the driver to go to UCLA Medical Center.

He had called last night—Britney had already been transferred to UCLA, which had top-notch sports injury specialists.

There were probably reporters outside the hospital, too. If not, Matthew wouldn't even bother going.

Dealing with these crazy entertainment reporters was a headache. But at least, per Helen's instructions, he didn't have to say anything—just keep quiet.

When the cab arrived at UCLA Medical Center, Matthew paid the fare but didn't get out right away. Instead, he looked around first.

Sure enough, a sizable crowd was gathered outside—mostly teenage fans, it seemed. Others held cameras and camcorders. Definitely reporters.

Since the cab didn't draw attention, Matthew stepped out, intending to slip in unnoticed.

But just then, he slowed down—just a little.

"Hey, who's that?" one reporter shouted. Then he recognized the face from American News Report. "It's Matthew Horner! Look! Matthew Horner is here!"

With that, he charged forward.