The night had fallen. The dining area was brightly lit, with the soft white light spilling across the tables. Matthew could clearly see that Michael Sheen was in a bad mood. He sighed inwardly but chose not to say anything. He knew all too well—once the balance in someone's heart is broken, it's nearly impossible to restore. Sometimes, it's gone for good.
Suddenly, his phone rang. He picked it up—it was Helen Herman. He quickly made his way to one of the production trailers for a last-minute audition.
It was a small part, and since he wasn't a union member, the audition was simple. The casting director and one of Ridley Scott's assistants took a look at his build, had him let out a few fierce roars, and that was enough—they nodded, satisfied.
Once he passed the audition, everything else was handled by Helen Herman. Matthew returned alone to the small town, washed up at the motel, and went to bed early. It had been a packed day, and he needed to be up early tomorrow. There was no time to waste.
He had no idea when Michael Sheen got back. When he woke, it was almost 3 a.m. After getting ready, he went straight to the dining area, where he ran into Helen Herman and her assistant Amanda at the entrance. The three of them grabbed breakfast together before Helen handed over the rest of the extras to Amanda and personally accompanied Matthew to set.
After all, this was a small but valuable opportunity from Ridley Scott himself. As the head of Angel Agency, Helen had to show she was taking it seriously.
If nothing else, it was a matter of professional respect.
The production crew was already bustling by the time they hit the road. A lot of people were headed toward the outskirts of town. Still curious about the part, Matthew asked casually, "This role wasn't part of your original plan, was it?"
"Nope. Got it at the last minute," Helen replied, dressed in a sleek navy-and-black suit, clearly in a good mood. "The original actor had a clause in his contract guaranteeing at least five lines."
Her low-heeled shoes clicked crisply against the pavement. "He showed up two days ago, realized all five of his lines were just screaming like yesterday, and threw a fit. Ridley Scott decided to replace him."
"He got fired?" Matthew asked, concerned.
They'd left the town limits by now and were walking through wooded paths toward the set.
"No, he's in the union," Helen explained calmly. "Firing him would've been a nightmare—not to mention a breach of contract. The studio would have to pay him a full month's salary. He's making $8,000 a day. Not worth it."
Matthew frowned. "So the production has ways of getting rid of someone without technically breaking the contract?"
"Exactly. They'll let him hang around as a background barbarian and shoot a scene where he says his five lines. Later in editing, they'll just cut all of it out. That way, they settle it with a few hundred bucks instead of tens of thousands."
"Wow..." Matthew couldn't help but grin. "That actually works?"
Helen replied coolly, "He's just another no-name British actor."
Matthew nodded. Union or not, a small-time actor couldn't possibly take on a blockbuster production like Gladiator.
Still, he figured that actor must've had a temper to go down like that.
At the forest set, Helen took Matthew into the production office trailer to sign a new contract with legal. It covered all the basics—wages, insurance, on-set injury compensation. If anything went wrong, Helen and her agency would handle it.
Once that was done, an assistant director handed Matthew a script—just two pages—but with detailed notes on the role. He was to play the barbarian leader, with two main scenes: one where he stands in front of a crowd of barbarians roaring at the Roman legion, and the other where he gets surrounded and killed by Roman soldiers.
Both scenes were full of close-ups.
Which is why, when Matthew got to the oversized makeup trailer, he received full VIP treatment.
A flamboyant male makeup artist and his young female assistant worked meticulously on his look. The beard alone was glued on hair by hair.
It was clear: extras in wide shots and actors with close-ups were in totally different leagues.
The makeup took so long that Matthew nearly fell asleep. He was woken by someone yelling outside the trailer.
"Who the hell is that? Who pulled strings to give him my role? I want answers!"
It was a man with a thick London accent.
"Maken…" someone outside tried to calm him.
Things quickly quieted down again. Matthew figured it was probably the disgruntled British actor Helen had mentioned earlier.
As the female assistant stuck another piece of beard on his face, she whispered, "That Brit guy went to the Royal Academy or something. Acts like he's above us all. Thought Ridley Scott would have his back just 'cause they're both British. Forgot this is America."
"Heh..." Matthew chuckled awkwardly.
By the time the makeup was finished, the sun was already up.
"Thanks, guys," he said politely. "Appreciate it."
He'd been around the block enough to know how to be courteous.
"You're welcome," the assistant smiled.
The male artist, however, suddenly stepped forward and slipped a piece of paper into Matthew's hand. "Hey, handsome. My number's on there. Call me sometime—we should hang out."
Matthew froze, then quickly caught on. Without saying a word, he walked off. Once he was a good distance away, he tossed the paper into the trash.
Then he went to wardrobe, where he was dressed in a heavy fur costume, and picked up a prop warhammer with tribal carvings from the props team.
As he left, he saw Helen Herman waiting outside the trailer. She was clearly there just for him.
"All good?" she asked.
"Yeah," Matthew nodded. "Took longer than expected, though."
The sun was already high—it had to be past 8:30 a.m. Just the makeup had taken over four hours. Luckily, all his scenes were being shot today.
Helen led the way as they headed toward yesterday's location.
They followed a narrow trail through the woods until they reached the clearing. Hundreds of extras were already gathered, waiting for the day's shoot to begin.
Leaning against a tree, Michael Sheen spotted Matthew immediately. Even from a distance, he could tell—Matthew's fur costume was finely made, and the makeup was flawless. That beard looked almost real. His own, on the other hand, was obviously fake.
"He's only been in L.A. a few months," Michael thought bitterly. "And I've been here over three years!"
A friend should help out when it counts, right? But Matthew didn't lift a finger…
Fuming, he marched over. "Hey, Matthew."
Matthew was chatting with Helen but turned when he heard the familiar voice. "Hey, Mike."
He acted like nothing had happened between them, like yesterday didn't even exist.
"About yesterday…" Michael started, pretending to be hesitant. "I lost my cool. Said some things I shouldn't have."
Matthew just shrugged. "Yesterday? I already forgot."
Michael smiled, relieved. Maybe Matthew still saw him as a friend.
Helen, who didn't know what they were talking about, looked from one to the other.
Catching her gaze, Michael quickly introduced himself, "Hi, Helen. I'm Michael Sheen—Matthew's good friend. Also one of your actors."
Helen nodded, recognizing him. "I remember you. You used to work in moving services."
"That's right!" Michael grinned wider. "That's how I met Matthew. We bonded over shared interests and became friends. Matthew's done a few roles—I've played over twenty. He often asks me for advice."
Helen gave him a neutral smile behind her glasses. "Is that so?"
Matthew smiled faintly, though it was hidden behind the thick beard.
Trying to make a good impression, huh? Michael really is using what he just learned.
At that moment, Ridley Scott arrived on set, accompanied by a burly assistant. Helen turned to Matthew. "Looks like Director Scott is shooting this scene himself. Let's go meet him."
Matthew, of course, was all for it.
Michael tried to follow, but after a few steps, Helen turned to him. "You've got a scene coming up—go get ready."
Left behind, Michael could only watch as Helen and Matthew approached Ridley Scott.
"Uncle Scott," Helen greeted warmly. "You're directing this one yourself?"
"Yeah," Ridley nodded. "Your actor—he's solid, right?"
Standing beside him, Helen gestured toward Matthew. "This is Matthew Horner. He played a background role last month in Girl, Interrupted, opposite Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie."
Ridley Scott took a long look at Matthew—tall, muscular, and fierce in his costume. Combined with Helen's recommendation, it was enough.
"Let's roll," he told the assistant director. "Start setting up."