Music is a deep scar in Billy's life, from an early age... for a long time, in their past life, he didn't see music as something close, just a slippery way to pass the time at special gatherings that people took into account, for a long time, his life dedicated to art had various nuances, moments in his life in which he only followed, guidelines accordingly, the method, freedom, back to the method, the block. A career not very well suited to the goals of someone who wants to be recognized as one of the great artists in history.
-One, two, one two, - Jad was conducting practice activities, hitting gloves with Billy, who was preparing his defenses. A right punch, a left punch, and dodge, a left punch, a right punch, and dodge, it's a process, a dance of repetition used to remember two general things, reflex practice, and interest.
-Faster, let's add a dodge, step, two dodges, complete the sequence, kid when I stop, you'll punch three times, and we'll repeat the process when it's time, you can block or dodge, - Jad commented.
Meanwhile, not too far away, Matt Schulze was doing the delivery activity on his own, the multiple relays, each one seen differently, Billy ended up receiving a blow to his head in the second exercise.
-That was too fast, - Jad murmured, taking off his gloves and helping the boy who was standing not far from him immediately.
-It was fine, the exercise was perfect, - Billy said, feeling a bit dizzy from the left hook he received.
-We're done for now, go and do ten minutes of skipping rope, and please, try not to stop this time. It's not pleasant to see you repeating everything in an unfriendly way. You make me look bad, - Jad commented, patting his back, a joke he has with Matt.
-You got hit hard, - Matt said. Again irreverent, all the problems that resulted in his arrogant attitude led to two simple truths. He's rude, familiar, and has a bad temper, but the bad doesn't outweigh the good; he's honest, sensible, and knows when to help.
-Do your work, big guy, - Billy commented to the man.
He just smiled, while the skipping rope was his clean slate, for many reasons. The exercise was the only way to enable his singing power on stage, which required superior cardiovascular training.
Jad's training process once again crushed Matt. Jad is just a semi-professional boxer, in turn, he is a retired MMA fighter with a record of 15 fights, and an expert in Jujitsu, boxing, kickboxing, and wrestling. As a coach to stars, and high-performance athletes, he is perfect, however, he is somewhat heavy-handed.
-Hit the gorilla hard, - Billy commented.
Watching the quick practice, all coldly calculated, nothing new, just a combination of steps, already memorized in each one, it's a form of exercise guided to perfect his skills.
-We have everything, the whole day, - Matt commented.
Billy continued jumping rope a few meters away while doing his constant exercise routines.
-What's up, buddy, how's the exercise going, - Zack commented, a baseball player from New York, he may be the perfect example of the kind of people who participate.
-Everything's fine, they're beating Matt up, nothing new, - Billy said. Zack only came for the pleasure of seeing the women. Did he train enough at home? He did, extra training was detestable, but the gains from training in that gym were part of his new commitment to perfecting his places.
-Carson, it's your turn, we'll do the usual, - Jad commented.
Matt approached Billy, to give him a pearl of a smile.
-Your turn, kid, I hope you're up to expectations. -
***
The bar scene was among many special places of help, and subsequent development of playing in bars became common. His nervousness began to wane, he gained some control over the audience and understood the fans, and he connected with some people.
-I have a new song that has been on my mind for a few days, - Billy mentioned to Jerry, who was beside him in the car with tinted windows, both parked in a place not far from the bar, this time, it was a big one, for at least 500 people. It was packed, witnessing Billy's recent popularity in New York. Recognition starts in the streets, playing in bars, squares, events, and festivals, and you'll gradually gain some fans. However, his status was diminished by the lack of involvement in new albums, singles, or events. It was like a simulation of fame.
2,693,030 β
A present number, like a magnifying glass, the idea that exposure was the norm of fame left a bitter, unrewarding taste. What to do in the face of such a present dilemma? Be part of the circus or not be part of the circus?
-Do you want to play it in a bar? Why not in the studio? - Jerry asked, always like a solid wall. He knows very well that reconciling the artist's soul is paramount for Jerry not to block or trap his soul, or it will extinguish like a candle.
-I have no idea, it's not perfected, or well, I think it would be good to have a little challenge, - Billy responded eagerly.
-You can do it, but leave me something. Write the lyrics of the song and we'll record it tomorrow. Your mother will handle the paperwork at the library, at the same time, always make sure to keep your famous songs, some evidence, the capital of dreams, plagiarism, and collective madness, - Jerry commented.
Taking a closed notebook, there, it was obvious that they only needed to fill in a small sheet of graph paper with the lyrics of the song. The importance of it lies in the essence, which stands out, the guitar accompanying, in some solos. For Billy, that theme is past, with one track under his belt and only one way to continue with his singing, he took a few breaths.
-Let's go, we need to do the singing. This time, you'll take three songs, we'll receive the food upstairs, and then we'll leave. Your mother is not waiting at home, and I don't want to contradict her, - Jerry said.
-Don't worry, sir, we'll do it quickly. I'm exhausted, I don't feel like doing anything else but going to bed, although I don't think I've been adopting a routine for too long, - Billy responded, mindful of the many activities he had to follow.
They got out of the car, taking precautions not to attract attention. Billy could tell that the weather favored him. A gray leather jacket, black pants, a turtleneck jacket, and a red scarf. As they kept walking, he observed his audience keenly. Many of them were looking forward to the concert; some others were just taking their places at the tables, present due to their circumstances of the day.
The bar was packed with people. The stage was a small stone area, usually used to set up lights and some speakers. For now, the only thing there was the small stage where a chair and an amplifier fit.
-Is everything ready? - Jerry asked aside.
-Everything's ready. We'll start at 7:00 pm, as projected in the contract. I hope you can, - the manager of the establishment commented.
Mr. Auster greeted them cordially, appearing, sitting at a distant table. To which both headed.
-A surprise, - Jerry added to the silence of student and teacher.
-A pleasure, Mr. Carson. My employer could have been very convincing of my necessary attendance for the event, not otherwise. I'd like to see you in action and not under my constant reprimands, - Auster commented, with some novelty in his voice. The high esteem of a talented young man is all a teacher wishes to see. Progress is a source, and the achievements of others under teaching are rewarding. The teacher's stage is the view of his student.
-Will we see a school? Will we see a city in the rain? Will we see the starry night, sir? You just have to watch me. For now, I'll try to give shape to my songs differently, - Billy replied, taking a seat.
Meditating amidst the noise is not easy; it's like swimming against the current. Concentrate, murmured Billy, who was taken with a shoulder bump. It was his moment to shine, like the stars, the immaterial sense of being faced with thousands of people, moved by a single voice.
The light over his eyelids opened his body, and he took a seat, crossing his leg to support the guitar. Before a series of notes, the electric guitar was complex to play, with thicker and raspier strings. The sound, a guitar solo with a piano track anticipated by Billy, began the new song by Billy.
-We all want to be young, we all want to live some moment of our childhood again, no matter what. I say we'll always be young! - Billy said to the audience began to listen attentively. Whistles, cheers, or voices weren't needed.
-I am just a kid. β
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆ
I woke up it was seven, I waited until 11
Just to figure out that no one would call
I think I've got a lot of friends
But I don't hear from them
What's another night all alone
When you're spending every day on your own
And here it goes
Β
I'm just a kid
And life is a nightmare
I'm just a kid
I know that it's not fair
Nobody cares
'Cause I'm alone and the world is having more fun than me tonight
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆ
β¦
The sense of belonging to a place couldn't highlight a school; it wasn't something deeper. He could only think of the meals his mother sent him in a neatly arranged paper bag: his peanut butter sandwiches, apples, and chocolates for breaks. Sometimes she added a packet of chips. It was as simple as children's acceptance. Everything ended up filtering into nostalgia.
Scents of chalk, glue, paint, markers, papers, sweat, and food began to fill the small bar. Different smells that, amidst the shouts, went unnoticed in the early moments of the song. The morning chill arrived, a different cold caused by waiting for the school bus, along with sleepiness, ways to make people feel. Some captured it, the most sensitive ones, those who were irritated or sad were affected by the emotions printed in Billy's song.
β¦
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆΒ
And maybe when the night is dead
I'll crawl into my bed
I'm staring at these four walls again
I'll try to think about the last time I had a good time
Everyone's got somewhere to go
And they're gonna leave me here on my own
And here it goes
I'm just a kid
And life is a nightmare
I'm just a kid
I know that it's not fair
Nobody cares
'Cause I'm alone and the world is having more fun than me
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆ
...
Details of a classroom, outlined teachers, young people running to classes, ties, uniforms, laughter. Everything started to warm the hearts of the people, all for a single image, a view of a school. Everyone's school is different.
But the image came like a blow. Behind Billy, there was an elementary school. The bell almost hypnotized the people. Jerry, no longer amazed, petrified, and unchanged, was now like an explorer. How did the boy confuse him? What was he doing? He didn't know, but the more he sang, the more he immersed himself in Billy's images. If you blinked, you'd wake up... it was a dream, blurry and incomprehensible. You had to stop in it, savor it delicately, so as not to forget the moment.
Mr. Auster was destabilized. Was this his student who was usually rebellious and irreverent? For goodness' sake! Auster thought. Seeing the emotions the boy conveyed was like watching a sonata; his bones trembled.
...
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆ
What the hell is wrong with me?
Don't fit in with anybody
How did this happen to me?
Wide awake, I'm bored and I can't fall asleep
And every night is the worst night ever
I'm just a kid
I'm just a kid
I'm just a kid
Yeah, I'm just a kid (I'm just a kid)
Yeah, I'm just a kid (I'm just a kid)
I'm just a kid
And life is a nightmare
I'm just a kid
I know that it's not fair
Nobody cares
'Cause I'm alone and the world is-
Nobody wants to be alone in the world
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆ
β¦
Billy's presence grew stronger as his concentration deepened. It was liberating; the guitar solo was perfect, and everyone could feel the moment of pause returning to reality.
-Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, - shouts.
Shouts everywhere.
Everyone heard each other, the madness, a fever that fueled people's voices, who escaped from the world, an oasis in the desert. A part removed from the world, mind blank, joy, Billy's memorable moment extended the guitar solo a little longer, repeating the scale faster, causing a stir among the people. Everyone synchronized into collective madness, and started dancing, jumping in their seats; the manager watched with his mouth open. For himself, he could only think one thing.
-Who the hell did I invite to the bar? - The manager thought, faced with the hysteria he observed; he couldn't even help but shake his neck. It was complete madness, what a true singer could do to a specific audience. Among the spectators, Jad, along with Matt Shulze, were wide-eyed.
β¦
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆ
I'm just a kid
And life is a nightmare
I'm just a kid
I know that it's not fair
Nobody cares
'Cause I'm alone and the world is-
Nobody wants to be alone in the world
Nobody cares
'Cause I'm alone and the world is having more fun than me tonight
I'm all alone tonight
Nobody cares tonight
'Cause I'm just a kid tonight.
πΆπΆπ΅π΅πΆ
...
At the end of the song, Billy gave a crooked smile that managed to make some women scream in the audience.
-If you liked that, you'll love the next song. Let's make a mess, for today you're in front of me, the future biggest star in music. When they talk about how I can touch your hearts, let them do it with pride, for my music is for that, to take you to forgotten places, - Billy commented with eternal confidence, his guitar hanging over his torso, while his hands opened in a gesture towards the sky, Wonder Woman posture.
Jerry couldn't hold back his laughter, loosening his tie; the kid was the best singer of the moment, only surpassed by the old stars. Jerry thought, totally moved by Billy's words and singing.
Their arrogance, the confidence in his abilities, left everyone amazed.
-Damn it, - said Jad.
-Damn it, he's a bloody rocker, - commented Matt, running a hand through his head, lost in his thoughts.
...