“I mean, you can’t complain too much,” Emma says, still teasing. “He might be an asshole, but he’s really, really hot.”
I unfortunately agree. Not that I’m going to admit that, mostly because I don’t really want to talk to Emma about this sort of thing. （Why are teenagers so much more flippant about sex these days?）
But the other reason lingers in the air. I told my family I was gay almost five years ago. It’s old news. My sister didn’t care. My mom had a few months of saying offensive, hurtful things before she understood that, no, I will never be interested in marrying a woman. That was the only rift in our relationship, but we’ve had enough conversations that we’re in a better place now. But my dad…We never talked much to begin with, but he stopped talking to me altogether. He never yelled at me or told me I was going to hell or anything I expected. It was like that was enough for him to decide that he didn’t love me anymore.
I don’t want to admit it to anyone—I barely want to admit it to myself—but that shame is still there. It’s a seed in my chest, growing whenever I find a man attractive. I understand consciously that I have nothing to be ashamed about—but it’s like my body still hasn’t caught up. My heart races, my skin flushes, and I feel like I’m already burning in hell. Nothing has helped—not the podcasts, not the books or articles I’ve read. I haven’t gone out with anyone since the tour for Love Me Dearly ended, though I’ve gotten many interested messages. And now this: making out with another man in a blockbuster film. Everyone will expect me to be the sort of actor who will be out and proud about my sexuality to help publicize the movie. That was one of the reasons they reached out to me, another tick on their checklist for diversity.
Riley Mason struggles with shame in the book and film also, before he accepts himself with Quinn’s help. Maybe that’s partly why I took the job, in the end. I hope that I’ll work through the shame, too. I’m not the first actor to use my job as therapy.
Emma picked up our mom’s kindness, even more than I did. “You doing okay, Mattie? Really. Tell me the truth.”
I take a breath. “I’m scared. But I think I’ll be all right, you know?”
Los Angeles Times Feature
In Conversation:
The Rise of Matthew Cole
The young actor’s road to fame was seemingly an overnight success, but Matthew Cole details the dedicated years of work he put into becoming the phenomenon currently sweeping the nation.
By Louise Renner
August 2, 2023
（excerpt）
Matthew Coles’s hotel room is not what I would have expected of a young twentysomething celebrity growing in fame. Most stars would live in private penthouses or manors in the Hills, but Matthew—or Mattie, as his friends, family, and fans adoringly know him as—explains that he hasn’t had the chance to settle in yet. The inside of Matthew’s hotel room is bare. He hasn’t yet put up any decorations. “It’d feel weird to, since I don’t actually live here.”
When I ask him if he plans on permanently moving to Los Angeles for his budding career as a well-loved actor, he seems hesitant. “I might eventually,” he tells me, “but—well, it’s hard to take the jump right now. I feel like I’m in between two worlds still.”
Originally from the humble town of Decatur, Georgia, Mattie is more familiar with the slower pace of the South. I’m not fully convinced that Matthew wants to move to a city such as this one, but if he wants to continue his future in acting, he might not have much of a choice. With an expected politeness, Mattie asks if I’d like any water, and when I decline, he eyes my phone and its recording app I’ve placed on the side table between our chairs.
Mattie is visibly nervous, which is curious for an actor of his caliber. He fidgets with the end of his wrinkled graphic t-shirt and bounces his knee, which peeks through a hole in his jeans. He seems to realize that he moves his hands too much as he talks, so he sits on them instead. This shy, earnest twenty-three-year-old feels like a person one might want to protect from the world of Hollywood.
Matthew Cole has been dubbed the new golden boy of the film industry. His rise to fame began with his discovery in the role “Love Me Dearly” （2022）。 Though Mattie only played Angela Simmons’s younger brother, Nick, his optimistic performance as a younger boy exploring his sexuality in a conservative town gained the attention of viewers.
Matthew’s momentum didn’t stop there. Months after the publicity tour of “Love Me Dearly,” Mattie was cast in the much-anticipated film for the bestselling novel “Write Anything,” this time in a leading role as Riley Mason, the love interest to Quinn Evans. Many have compared the young Matthew Coles’s growing popularity to that of Timothée Chalamet and Tom Holland when they first hit the scene. Matthew, however, has not been as well-received by the critics, with many claiming he is simply Hollywood’s newest obsession, and will likely be forgotten as someone who does not have the necessary skill, talent, or presence to truly stand out in a hungry sea of actors. Most notably among Matthew’s critics is his own co-star for the newest film, Logan Gray, who infamously criticized Mattie on the red-carpet premiere of “Hawkseye Down.”
One thing is certain, however: for as many critics Mattie finds, he will be followed by fans, rooting for this underdog’s success. When I ask Matthew what his secret is, he seems uncomfortable and fumbles with a response. I ask instead if he’s nervous with his success, and he responds without hesitation. “Yes,” he says. “I never really wanted to be famous.”
“What do you want, then?”
“I just want to act. I’ve always loved acting, ever since I was a kid. I’m not sure I want everything else that comes with it.”
Perhaps it’s Mattie’s humility and vulnerability that tug at the heartstrings of so many, allowing us to connect to his performances. If Matthew Cole is at fault for anything, it’s that he is almost too sweet, to the point of innocence. I would hate to witness his inevitable disillusion.
Logan
Drinking alone in a hotel bar? Sounds about right. A few years ago, I’d be falling over drunk by now. It’s an improvement, believe me, that I’m only on my third bourbon. Still. I told myself I’d keep it together this time around. If I’m going to get away from my father, I need to do better. I wonder, just for a second, if I’m sabotaging myself by drinking, but that shit’s a little too deep for me right now.
There’s a stack of papers for sale, face out on the other end of the counter, alongside cigars. Front page says there’s a feature on Matthew Cole on page twenty-two. It’s like I can’t escape the fucking guy. And, like I’ve materialized him out of thin air, just as I glance out of the bar and into the lobby of the hotel, Matthew Cole himself strolls through. Before I can pretend I didn’t see him, he turns like he can feel someone’s eyes on him and looks right at me, tensing up with surprise and a glimmer of dislike that I’ve come to recognize on most people and—god fucking damn it, of course he feels the need to come over and talk to me.
“Hey,” he says, slowing down and looking at the glass in front of me. “Waiting for someone?” His tone is hopeful, like he thinks this could be a good excuse to leave immediately. Newsflash, Matt: you could’ve avoided this situation altogether if you pretended you hadn’t seen me, too.