Golden sunlight spilled from the sky, landing on the bushes at the cliff's edge, beneath which lay a crescent-shaped beach hidden from view. At one corner of Crescent Beach, a long wooden pier stretched out into the azure sea.
This beautiful beach, known as Paradise Cove in Malibu, was leased by a restaurant, and entry required a ticket.
However, today the beach was devoid of tourists; instead, the cliff behind the beach was teeming with reporters wielding long lenses and cameras.
Britney Spears' record company had temporarily rented this beach to shoot the music video for "Sometimes."
Early in the morning, Matthew arrived at the beach with the crew. The record company had rented not only the beach but also the restaurant.
Several rooms in the restaurant were temporarily converted into dressing rooms and lounges.
Thanks to Helen Herman, who came along and advocated for him, Matthew, the male lead, had a room to himself.
"I didn't expect you to come in person," Matthew said as he sat in front of the makeup mirror, letting the makeup artist work on his face, addressing Helen Herman who was browsing a newspaper behind him. "I thought you'd just leave me with the crew and not bother."
Helen didn't look up from her newspaper as she responded, "I don't have other work at the moment, and you were not only chosen by them but also by me."
This was somewhat puzzling, but after a moment, Matthew understood.
"Oh..." he replied casually. "So, I'm your most important client now."
He had heard from Amanda that Angel Agency wasn't very large, and Helen Herman wouldn't have access to many resources; she had to focus them carefully.
"You haven't shown that potential yet," Helen denied.
Matthew looked at Helen through the makeup mirror. Her face was hidden behind the newspaper, obscuring her expression.
After the makeup session, Matthew changed into a white T-shirt tailored to fit snugly against his strong body, emphasizing his well-defined muscle lines.
His physique was the result of long-term intense physical labor, not the exaggerated muscles one might see from a gym.
Matthew looked strong but not in the way Arnold Schwarzenegger or Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson did—more like a taller Tom Cruise.
Since the shooting involved walking barefoot on the beach, he slipped into sandals after changing. Ignoring Helen, who was still engrossed in her newspaper, he grabbed his work bag and headed out of the dressing room, walking along the wooden pier toward the beach.
Descending from the pier to the beach, Matthew found a tented area set up for the actors to rest. He located his chair, sat down, and looked toward the sea where a dance troupe of about seven or eight people was rehearsing under the choreographer's guidance.
Not being familiar with dance or music, he couldn't judge the quality, but from the young faces of the male and female dancers, he guessed their style must be popular with teenagers.
"Ms. Spears..." a cautious voice called out. "Please come this way."
Matthew turned his head and saw Britney Spears, dressed in a white crop top, entering the tent.
Probably because they were both leads, her chair was very close to his.
Director Zack Snyder was still busy with the crew setting up the filming site, so shooting wouldn't start immediately. Britney Spears sat down patiently to wait.
Matthew was prepared for some idle time. Seeing that the tent was temporarily empty, he pulled out a notebook and pen from his work bag, stood up, and approached Britney.
Britney looked at him with slight surprise. Matthew, feigning embarrassment, scratched his head and flashed a sunny, somewhat shy smile. "Hello, Miss Spears. I'm a fan of yours, and I've always wanted to get your autograph but never found the right opportunity."
He had neither rehearsed with Britney nor spoken to her directly before.
"Could I..." Matthew asked sheepishly, pointing at his pen and autograph book, "could you sign this for your faithful fan?"
Britney, perhaps remembering Matthew for some reason, happily took the pen and book, asking, "You're Matthew Horner, right?"
"Just call me Matthew," he said, his face lighting up as if being remembered by Britney was a tremendous thing. Then he ventured, "Can I call you Britney?"
While she signed the notebook, Britney said, "Of course."
She paused her pen, unable to contain her curiosity, and asked, "Who is your least favorite singer?"
Matthew suddenly felt like burying his head in the sand or cracking open her blonde-haired skull to see what peculiarities lay inside.
But seeing Britney's youthful, innocent face, he realized she was just a girl with little social experience and a simple mind. From what he knew of the gossip, her maturity level was also notably slow.
Thinking this, Matthew replied without pause, "I'm not too fond of Christina Aguilera."
He
felt it was best to give a simple answer to someone simple-minded.
"Why?" Britney asked curiously.
Matthew had never actually listened to Christina Aguilera's music, only seeing some photos online, and had almost no impression of her. But he responded quickly, softening his words from the audition day.
"I think she looks strange," Matthew said, not as directly as before. "Her voice is strange too. Listening to her songs always gives me goosebumps, like eating something that makes me nauseous."
"Like nauseous food?" Britney suddenly laughed. "That's cool!"
She resumed signing energetically. After a while, she handed the notebook back to Matthew, who immediately checked it. His eyes widened in surprise; not only had Britney signed it, but she had also left a peculiar dedication.
"To Matthew Horner, who dislikes Christina Aguilera, may you be happy every day! Britney Spears."
This was no different from those juvenile schoolgirls who scribbled curses on their rivals in class.
Matthew now realized that while Britney might be a genius in singing, she probably didn't even reach the average when it came to real-life and interpersonal skills.
Such people, once provoked, often don't even realize what they might do.
"Thank you, Britney," Matthew closed the notebook and added, "I can brag about this in my performance class!"
Britney misunderstood his remark. "Do they all dislike Christina Aguilera too?"
Some concepts became clearer in Matthew's mind. Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera already had deep-seated issues, exacerbated by the media, destined to be lifelong enemies.
"No!" Matthew used up nearly all his mental capacity to explain, "Some people like Christina Aguilera and are her fans."
He saw Britney frown, slightly displeased, and quickly added, "I've always been at odds with them. I once said in class that anyone who likes Christina Aguilera must be brain-damaged and deserves to be eradicated!"
Britney, amused by his comment, laughed again. "Right, they should be eradicated! Including Christina Aguilera herself!"
"Britney," Matthew feigned realization, "do you also dislike Christina Aguilera?"
With the previous setup and her simple way of thinking, Britney straightforwardly said, "It's not just dislike, I hate her! Very much so!"
Matthew scratched his head, showing an embarrassed smile, "That's a coincidence. Actually, I hate her too. 'Not liking' was just a polite way of putting it, after all..."
He seemed to struggle to find the right words.
Britney waved her hand generously, "I know, it's okay. On hating Christina Aguilera, we are united."
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Matthew nodded vigorously. "We are united!"
He felt that Britney rarely talked about such matters and deliberately asked, "Do you also think, like me, that Christina Aguilera is ugly and has an annoying voice?"
"No," Britney shook her head, bitterly saying, "I've known her since the Mickey Mouse Club. She's just a..."
Since no one else was nearby, Britney didn't care that this was a film set and poured out a torrent of grievances about her and Christina Aguilera's old feuds, which were mostly petty squabbles between two self-important, temperamental young girls.
Matthew became a listener, nodding and humming in agreement, never interrupting Britney's tirade.
Once she finished, Matthew said earnestly, "I didn't realize Christina Aguilera was so terrible, just a real piece of work!"
Britney nodded vigorously, "Exactly!"
Matthew, pretending to be considerate, advised, "Britney, you have to be careful around people like that."
"Yes!" Britney continued nodding, then looked at Matthew, finding him increasingly agreeable. "You can call me Bee, my friends do."
In less than ten minutes, thanks to Matthew's efforts, their friendship soared.
On the edge of the wooden pier, Helen Herman stood by the railing, watching the actors' resting area. From the moment Matthew approached Britney for an autograph to their enthusiastic conversation, she observed everything but didn't interfere.
Even she had to admit, managing to chat so joyfully with someone as simple-minded and low on emotional intelligence as Britney was quite a feat.
"Perhaps only fools find common ground with other fools?" Helen Herman muttered to herself.