Night had fallen over the set, and the mess hall was brightly lit, the harsh light spilling across the tables.
Matthew could see Michael was dejected. He sighed inwardly but said nothing more, knowing that once a person's inner balance was shattered, it was difficult—if not impossible—to restore.
Suddenly, his phone rang. Matthew pulled it out and answered. It was Helen, urging him to hurry over to a trailer on set for an impromptu audition.
It was a small part, and since he wasn't a member of the Screen Actors Guild, the audition was straightforward. The casting director and an assistant sent by Ridley Scott took one look at Matthew's appearance, had him let out a guttural roar, and nodded in satisfaction.
With the audition passed, the rest of the details were left to Helen. Matthew headed back into town alone, returned to the hotel, showered, and went to bed early. It had been a grueling day, and with an early start tomorrow, he couldn't afford to waste any time.
He woke up just before three in the morning, and after washing up, he made his way to the restaurant, where he met Helen and her assistant, Amanda, at the door. They had breakfast together, after which Helen left the other extras in Amanda's care and personally escorted Matthew to the set.
Ridley Scott had handed her this role, and with an opportunity like this, she was determined to show her appreciation accordingly.
Setting all other considerations aside, it was, at the very least, a sign of respect for Ridley Scott.
The film crew was scheduled to start work early, and the road was already busy with people heading out of town. Matthew had been curious about the role, and now that they were alone, he couldn't help but ask as they walked, "This part wasn't originally intended for someone else, was it?"
"So the actor was fired?" Matthew asked.
Once they left the town, they headed toward the wooded area of the set. Helen continued, "No, he's a union actor. Firing him would be very troublesome and would constitute a breach of contract on the crew's part—a breach that would cost them a month's salary."
Matthew pressed, "Is there a way for the crew to get rid of him without breaching the contract?"
"The crew will let him serve as a barbarian soldier for a while, and then they'll have an assistant director shoot a scene with his five lines specifically for him," Helen explained lightly. "Then, during post-production, they'll just cut all of his scenes. Get rid of him for a few hundred dollars."
"So," Matthew smirked, "who is he?"
Helen answered dismissively, "A minor British actor."
Matthew nodded. A common small-time actor, even a union member, was no match for a production on the scale of "Gladiator."
Then again, he mused, the British actor Helen mentioned must have been an impulsive character.
Upon arriving at the location, Matthew followed Helen first to the trailer that served as the crew's daily office to sign a new contract with the legal department. The contract contained clear legal provisions regarding his base pay, insurance, and compensation. Should any dispute arise, the Angel Acting Agency and Helen would intervene.
After signing the contract, one of the assistant directors handed Matthew a copy of the script for his role. It was two pages long and contained detailed instructions for the barbarian chieftain's scenes. Broadly, the role was split into two parts: the chieftain standing before a horde of barbarians, roaring in fury at the Roman legions, and then being surrounded by Roman soldiers and killed.
Most of it would be shot in close-up.
Consequently, when Matthew arrived at the large makeup trailer, he received the full attention of the makeup artists.
A sultry-looking male makeup artist and his female assistant worked together on Matthew's transformation. This time, the makeup was meticulous, especially the beard, which was painstakingly applied strand by strand.
It was obvious that an actor who would be seen on camera was treated entirely differently from a background extra.
The makeup process was cumbersome and took a long time. At one point, Matthew even dozed off, only to be jolted awake by an angry roar from outside the trailer.
"Who is that guy?! How dare he!" It was a man's voice, thick with a British accent. "How dare you steal my role!"
"Mason, that's enough, or you'll get yourself into trouble," someone else urged.
Silence fell outside the makeup trailer. Matthew guessed it had to be the British actor Helen had mentioned.
The young female makeup assistant, applying a mustache to Matthew's face, whispered, "That Englishman is always looking down his nose at us, just because he studied at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. He thought Ridley Scott would favor him just because he's English, but he forgets this is America."
Matthew didn't know how to respond, so he just managed a smile.
The makeup work continued, and it wasn't until dawn began to break that Matthew's look was complete.
"Thank you." As he prepared to head to the costume and prop department, Matthew said politely, "You did a fantastic job. I don't even recognize myself."
After years of struggling at the bottom, he understood the value of simple courtesy.
"You're welcome," the female assistant smiled.
However, the sultry male makeup artist suddenly stepped forward and slipped a piece of paper into Matthew's hand, whispering, "Hey handsome, that's my number. Give me a call. We can meet up and have a wild night together."
Matthew froze for a second before he understood. Without a word, he walked out of the makeup trailer with a blank expression, and once he was a safe distance away, he tossed the note into a trash can.
He then went to the wardrobe department to change into a heavy fur costume and received a long-handled war hammer inlaid with a totem design from the props team.
When he emerged from the prop department, Matthew found Helen standing outside the trailer, evidently waiting for him.
Seeing Matthew approach, Helen asked, "Did everything go smoothly?"
Matthew nodded. "Perfectly, but it took a bit longer than I expected."
The sun was already high in the sky, probably around seven-thirty. The makeup alone had taken more than four hours, but fortunately, all the scenes for this role were scheduled to be filmed today.
Helen led the way, with Matthew following close behind, as they headed toward yesterday's filming location.
Crossing a path through the woods, the pair arrived at the edge of an open field where hundreds of extras were gathered for the day's scenes.
Michael, leaning against a tree, caught a glimpse of Matthew. Even from a distance, he could clearly see the well-crafted fur on his body, the more realistic makeup on his face, and especially the beard, which looked as good as a real one—a stark contrast to the fake one on his own face.
"Has he really only been in Los Angeles for a few months?" Michael was incredibly frustrated. "I've been in L.A. for over three years! Why the hell is my luck so bad?"
Shouldn't a friend lend a hand when it counts?
With that thought, Michael took a step forward. "Hey, Matthew."
Matthew was chatting with Helen. Hearing the familiar voice, he immediately turned his head and greeted him, "Hey, Michael."
He acted no differently than before, as if yesterday's events had never happened.
"Yesterday," Michael began awkwardly, "I said some things I shouldn't have."
Matthew shook his head, feigning ignorance. "What happened yesterday? I've already forgotten."
Michael smiled, relieved that Matthew still seemed to consider him a friend.
Helen, not understanding what the two were talking about, glanced from Matthew to Michael.
Noticing Helen's eyes on him, Michael immediately brightened and said, "Hello, Helen. I'm Michael, a good friend of Matthew's and one of your actors."
"Hmm." Helen recalled seeing him the day before. "Hello, I remember you. You were a porter when we first met."
"Yes." Hearing her words, Michael's smile widened. He emphasized his next words, as if reminding Helen of his qualifications, "I've had roles in over twenty productions. Matthew often asks for my advice when we talk."
Helen's eyes were hidden behind her glasses, making them unreadable, but a faint, professional smile remained on her face. "Is that so? That's excellent."
Matthew also wore a slight smile, though it was unfortunately concealed by his thick beard.
Just then, Ridley Scott entered the set, accompanied by a bearded man. Helen said to Matthew, "Scott might be directing this himself. I'll take you to meet him."
Matthew nodded and followed Helen.
Michael started to follow as well, but he hadn't taken two steps before Helen noticed him. "Your scene will be starting soon," she said. "You should get back with the others."
Hearing this, Michael had no choice but to stop and watch as Matthew and Helen entered Ridley Scott's line of sight.
"Uncle Scott," Helen greeted him cheerfully. "Are you directing this scene yourself?"
Ridley Scott nodded. "Is your actor here?"
Helen stepped aside and gestured to Matthew. "Yes, this is Matthew Horner. Last month, he was an actor on the set of 'Girl, Interrupted,' working alongside Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie."
Seeing Matthew's tall, powerful build and his rugged, wild appearance, and hearing Helen's introduction, Ridley Scott was pleased with her choice. He ordered the bearded man beside him, "Get ready to start filming."