Since receiving the script for "Dawn of the Dead," Matthew had been coming to Angel Agency to study the script almost every day he wasn't working. The main reason he didn't stay home was that Angel Agency had many people, so if he needed someone to help him with line readings, he could always find someone.
He was now Angel Agency's number one client and biggest star, and providing excellent service to him was an important part of the company's daily operations.
As July drew to a close and a new week began, Matthew arrived at Angel Agency early one morning.
He politely declined an interview request from a reporter waiting at the agency's entrance and went inside. He was about to go to the archive room on the second floor to retrieve the zombie-related materials that had just been collected yesterday when a staff member at the front desk called out to him.
"Matthew!" The front desk staff waved at him. Matthew walked over and asked, "is there something wrong?"
The staff member said, "Someone came looking for you earlier, claiming to be your cousin from Texas. Ms. Herman hasn't arrived yet..." She pointed to an office to the left of the front desk. "I've already directed him to the reception room."
"Cousin?"
Matthew frowned. In the memories left by his predecessor, there didn't seem to be such a person.
The staff member added, "That's what he said."
"Hmm, I understand." Matthew glanced towards the reception room. "I'll go take a look."
He didn't go upstairs but instead went to the reception room door, pushed it open, and walked in. He saw a Black man with numerous small braids sitting on the sofa directly opposite the door. He appeared to be about the same age as Matthew and was dressed in a very unconventional style. The brightly colored, gaudy clothes had patterns that were impossible to make out.
The man also saw Matthew, immediately stood up, and spread a wide grin, revealing two rows of white teeth, saying, "Hey, Matthew, it really is you! Looks like I didn't get the wrong person!"
He spoke with a strong Texas accent and was about to walk over as he spoke.
Matthew quickly raised his hand, signaling him to stop, and at the same time said, "Who are you?"
The man brushed aside the messy braids covering his face and said in surprise, "No way? You don't recognize me? I'm Leo Williams!"
Matthew looked at the unfamiliar face and couldn't remember ever knowing such a person. Moreover, the claim of being a cousin was impossible; and there was no way he could be related by blood to the previous Matthew.
The Black man looked disappointed. "You didn't really forget me, did you?" He reminded him, "Think about it, seven years ago, we mowed the same lawn in Dallas! We worked together for three days!"
Seeing Matthew's calm expression, the man named Leo Williams couldn't help but cover his forehead. "Oh, God! You actually forgot me. Back then, you even said we were friends!"
Matthew thought for a moment and asked, "You told the front desk people you were my cousin?"
"That was just a little joke." Leo Williams showed no embarrassment and deliberately said in a casual tone, "We're good friends, I don't think you'd mind such a small thing."
Matthew didn't speak. After this brief recollection, he vaguely remembered that the previous guy had indeed worked with some people to mow a large lawn, but who exactly those people were, he had long forgotten. Who would remember a stranger they had temporarily worked with for a few days many years ago?
"Are you looking for me for something?" Matthew looked at him and asked.
Leo Williams chuckled and said, "Aren't we good friends? We even worked together. Now that you're famous, and I happen to be working in Burbank too, I saw your company's address and just wanted to come over and congratulate you."
Matthew casually replied, "Thanks, I got it."
This statement already clearly implied that the conversation was over.
But Leo Williams seemed to not understand, and with a brazen expression, he continued, "We had a really good relationship back then, do you remember?"
Matthew didn't speak, roughly understanding the guy's intention.
"You said back then, no matter who made it big in the future..." Leo Williams, spoke voluminously, his thick lips constantly moving, "...they should help everyone else out. I've always done that too. Last year, when we were working with..."
Matthew pulled out his phone, put it to his ear, "Hello? What? Okay..." He looked apologetically at Leo Williams. "Sorry, I need to make a call first, we'll talk later."
With that, he put his phone back to his ear, pushed open the door, and walked out.
The front desk staff saw him come out and said, "Ms. Herman is here, in her office upstairs."
Matthew nodded, pointed to the reception room behind him, "If that person asks for me, just say I had to leave for something."
Arriving at Helen Herman's office upstairs, Matthew briefly explained the situation. Helen Herman immediately said, "I'll handle this."
She picked up the phone, dialed the security manager's number, said a few simple words, and hung up.
Matthew poured himself a glass of water, took a sip, and said, "No one came looking for me when I was down and out."
"He's not the first." Helen Herman recalled some things and said, "Before, some people claiming to be your elementary and middle school classmates came looking for you. I had security send them all away."
"Good job!" Matthew gave Helen Herman a direct thumbs-up. "Tell the front desk at the company, whether it's classmates or cousins or whatever, anyone who shows up unannounced should be sent away!"
"I understand." Helen Herman reminded him, "You're famous now and you've made a lot of money. You should expect that many friends or classmates you haven't seen in years might come looking for handouts."
With Helen Herman's reminder, Matthew could easily imagine this.
Helen Herman continued, "If you need someone to accompany you for food, drinks, fun, or to relieve boredom, you can find a few reliable ones among them to be your hangers-on."
"Hangers-on?" As soon as Matthew heard the term, he understood the general meaning and asked, "Does that mean they eat my food, drink my drinks, wear my clothes, live in my house, and also spend my money?"
Helen Herman nodded lightly, "That's pretty much it. Most Hollywood stars have hangers-on. This... well, it's formed a circle and a profession dependent on Hollywood."
Matthew said firmly, "No need to consider! I don't need such people!" His attitude then softened slightly, "Unless they're beautiful women."
Helen Herman said with a hint of sarcasm, "Your ideas are interesting!"
Matthew shrugged, "That's a normal man's thought."
He had never forgotten his original intention, which was also the greatest motivation for him to continue climbing higher.
"By the way, I haven't seen your personal assistant in a long time." Helen Herman seemed not to have let Matthew off the hook yet. "You don't have designs on the people around you, do you?"
Matthew scoffed, "Am I that kind of person?" He simply explained, "Mila Wang resigned a while ago and went back to England. She probably won't be coming back."
Helen Herman was a bit curious, "Why did she resign?"
"She said that being around me, she saw too much of the dirty and hypocritical side of this industry," Matthew mostly repeated her exact words, "Everything she saw and heard was bad, especially me, her employer, full of negative energy from head to toe, without a single positive thing, so she resigned."
Helen Herman snorted, "Isn't that just Hollywood?"
Matthew sighed and speculated wildly, "Perhaps, like many people, she thought that while the surface of celebrities and Hollywood is glamorous, the inside must also be clean."
Since the other party wanted to resign, he wouldn't force her to stay. Perhaps another industry would be more suitable for her development.
After chatting for a while, the security manager downstairs called to say that the Black man had been sent away. Matthew prepared to go to the data room to continue researching materials related to "Dawn of the Dead."
Helen Herman reminded him, "If you encounter similar situations again, notify me promptly, and I'll find someone to handle it."
"I understand."
This was exactly what Matthew wanted; just thinking about such matters seemed troublesome.
However, the Black man named Leo Williams was just the beginning. As his fame exploded and he became popular across America, in the following days, the number of people coming to cash in on his success was endless.
A driver who used to work with him at Red Penguin Company called, saying he had opened a pastry shop and wanted Matthew to help him with an endorsement. As for endorsement fees, there would certainly be none. He said he could provide Matthew with a month of free cakes and asked him to help out as a small favor, considering they had worked together.
Then, his former landlord from Westwood called. The landlord worked at a financial company and said he could provide Matthew with comprehensive financial advice and planning, becoming his financial advisor, thereby rapidly increasing the value of his funds and assets.
There was also a car wash attendant he used to know, who claimed he could provide him with a year of car wash service cards, but while others paid only $10 per wash, this celebrity client would be charged $50 per wash... There were simply too many similar situations.
Matthew's friends never called with such strange requests because he became famous. Instead, those who were merely acquaintances or casual acquaintances actively sought him out, treating him as a cash cow they could rely on.
His former landlord even had such a grand plan: he would be a financial advisor, Matthew would be his first client, and then Hollywood's best stars would gradually join.
Success had turned Matthew into a magnet, and many people wanted to attach themselves to him: former colleagues who inexplicably reappeared, casual acquaintances who saw him as a cash cow, and thick-skinned individuals who used their past connections with him to gain various benefits... But Matthew never had a saintly complex; even if some of them were so poor they were homeless, he would refuse without hesitation!
Of course, this would certainly incur some people's displeasure.
Thus, tabloids published the landlord's version of 'Matthew Horner's Rental Memoirs' and the lawnmower's oral account of 'My Days Mowing Lawns with Matthew,' and similar reports.
Matthew made no response and bothered to ignore these things. He had to prepare for a new project.
Matthew made no response and bothered to ignore these things. He had to prepare for a new project.