Actor in Hollywood Chapter 366: When Whales Fight

Are Anson and Matt friends?

Barely.

A year ago, the two t in New York's Chinatown while learning martial arts. They practiced together for a while, sharing sweat as friends do. But outside of that, they never t up, not even for a al. So, it's more accurate to say they were colleagues rather than friends.

Now, Matt is entangled in a complicated romantic situation, accused of hurting Winona again, and facing a public image crisis. What should he do?

It's obvious that Matt's PR team is probably working hard to get him out of this ss. You could even speculate that the paparazzi harassing Winona might have been provoked by them—it's not impossible.

And now, with the perfect opportunity presenting itself, would they refuse to take advantage of it?

Edgar doesn't think so.

In fact, the smartest move wouldn't be to spread rumors about Winona and Anson.

While that might divert attention, the tiline doesn't match up. Unless they can provide evidence that Winona and Anson were secretly involved a year ago, it would only complicate things further. Matt's affair with Penelope would still be hard to explain away, and it could even lead to a worse situation—an even bigger public spectacle.

The savvy move would be to use this rumor as a basis to suggest that Matt and Winona had been drifting apart for so ti. Their relationship was already troubled before Anson ca into the picture. Matt seeking comfort elsewhere wouldn't seem so shaful, and it could even be hinted that Winona had already moved on herself.

See, the focus isn't on Anson but rather on the situation that led to Anson's involvent, highlighting that this isn't the first ti sothing like this has happened.

This way, Matt might gain so sympathy and understanding, even if it doesn't fully excuse his affair.

The situation could quickly turn in Matt's favor.

The only question is, will Matt Damon's PR team think of this?

But Edgar can't take any chances.

He doesn't trust the friendship between Matt and Anson, nor does he trust the ruthless nature of Hollywood. Matt can afford to lose; even if he gets labeled as a heartbreaker this ti, his connections in Boston will help him brush off the damage. But Anson can't—his foundation is too shaky.

So, Edgar needs to take control of the situation and turn the tide.

There's a saying in Hollywood: A crisis is also an opportunity; it all depends on how you handle it.

With that in mind, Edgar sprang into action.

In 2001, you still couldn't use mobile devices on airplanes. But what if those Wall Street big shots needed to urgently contact the ground?

In-flight phones.

Since the in-flight phone signals and lines are controlled by the cockpit, contacting the ground doesn't interfere with their communication with ground control, so it's allowed.

But there are two things to keep in mind: First, it's expensive—very, very expensive. Second, you need to get permission from the flight attendants before making a call.

For Edgar, none of this mattered. The only thing that mattered was contacting Eve.

At the end of the day, Anson was right again—they still needed Eve.

"Mr. Wood, is there anything we can help you with?"

A flight attendant noticed Edgar's urgency and imdiately approached Anson, smiling as she offered assistance.

Compared to Edgar, Anson seed much more relaxed. He flashed a smile and said, "Of course. Do you happen to have any hot milk?"

The flight attendant paused slightly, quietly looking into Anson's eyes. Then, she mirrored his smile, "Of course, no problem."

If Anson panicked every ti sothing urgent happened, he probably would have had a heart attack in a past life.

**During those long and chaotic years, Anson gradually learned that the more urgent and chaotic things beca, the more critical it was to stay calm.**

It's difficult—extrely, extrely difficult—but often, it's the best way to solve problems. So even when it's tough, staying calm is essential.

Moreover, when nas like Winona Ryder, Tom Cruise, Matt Damon, and Penélope Cruz are involved, he's just a small fish in a big pond. When the whales fight, he can't control the situation. It's better to relax and ride the waves as they co.

Turning to look out the window, he saw the clouds gradually drifting below, with the ever-present autumn clouds over Paris spreading out like cotton candy beneath him. The transparent sunlight stread through the window, landing in his palm, while his tired and aching muscles slowly relaxed in the warmth.

By the ti Edgar finished his work and could finally take a breather, he turned to see that Anson had already reclined his seat, put on an eye mask, and fallen into a deep sleep.

His breathing was steady.

Edgar paused, unsure whether to laugh or cry, but upon reflection, he realized that Anson hadn't been sleeping well during their ti in Paris. Now that Anson could rest and recharge for the dia onslaught ahead, this was a good thing, right?

Unconsciously, Edgar found himself tiptoeing around, letting out a long sigh as he ordered an espresso. Although he was also too tired to keep his eyes open, now wasn't the ti for sleep. He had to stay alert and continue working.

The flight was uneventful—

For the entire trip, Anson didn't wake up to eat. He slept soundly for twelve hours, undisturbed by the sunrise and sunset outside the window. Nothing could wake him.

Even Edgar began to worry a bit, and the flight attendants frequently checked in, concerned about whether Anson needed any help. But Edgar remained calm, assuring them that Anson was fine and letting him sleep.

Finally, thirty minutes before landing, Edgar gently woke Anson.

"Whew…"

Anson sat up, his cheeks pink, eyes still tightly shut, silently protesting as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

The flight attendants ca over—again.

It wasn't just Edgar who noticed; even the other first-class passengers could tell that the flight attendants were paying extra attention to these two passengers.

"Is there anything you need?" The flight attendant asked Edgar quietly.

Before Edgar could respond, Anson's slightly hoarse voice ca from beside him, "Water."

Anson forced his eyes open and offered the flight attendant a polite smile. "Also, could I get so bread or sothing? I know the plane is preparing to land and al service is over, but I just need a snack. Thanks."

The Anson before her was far from his usual polished self. His hair was tousled like a bird's nest, and his rosy cheeks gave him a slightly childish look, but this innocent appearance had a charm all its own.

The flight attendant returned a warm smile, "Of course, no problem."

anwhile, the other passengers were left puzzled: "Wait, why was I denied whiskey earlier? Is this fair?"

Edgar turned to Anson, "Did you sleep well?"

"No," Anson replied bluntly. "Honestly, I'm in a dangerous mood right now—I've got a lot of morning grumpiness to vent. But I'm ready. L.A. is probably waiting with its jaws wide open for to land, right?"

"They think this is a trap with no escape. Well, let's see who's the hunter and who's the prey, shall we?"