The sun came out, and a few scattered people began to appear on the beach for a stroll.
Fat James rode his pedal scooter over from the seaside boulevard and was so surprised to see the two sitting together for breakfast that he almost tumbled off his scooter.
Link didn't bother to explain much, packed up the plates, re-hung the diving gear he had cleaned the day before in the cupboard, and the torn wetsuit needed to be sent back to the factory for repairs, yet another expense.
After finishing breakfast, Taylor sat under the parasol, staring blankly at the distant sea, occasionally snapping back to reality and strumming a sequence of notes on her guitar, which she then jotted down on manuscript paper.
"Link!"
James nudged his shoulder and, looking towards the entrance at Taylor Swift, whispered, "Do you know, she's actually a singer, and quite famous too. I saw her poster in the bar street yesterday, saying she's participating in the beach music festival at the Hard Rock Stadium this month, with posters featuring Tim McGraw, Faith Hill—all big stars."
"I saw it too."
Link shrugged his shoulders; the Miami Beach Music Festival was a major event with wide publicity, and posters had been visible recently all over Palm Beach's streets and alleys.
"Link, I checked her info online, she's released albums, almost won the Grammy for Best New Artist this year, and the news says she's a very talented songwriter with huge potential, will be a big star like Faith in the future."
"She probably will."
Link nodded his chin; Taylor would not only become a big star but also the brightest star in the music world, a billionaire, the epitome of beauty and wealth, a very successful woman.
Fat James looked at him with sympathetic eyes, patted his shoulder, and said, "Link, she's a big star, and we're just ordinary people. Your meeting is destined to be a tragedy. You should be prepared mentally, and don't be too sad when you get dumped in the future."
"That won't happen, I'm not an ordinary person."
Link tossed the rag into James's arms and walked with two bottles of water to the parasol.
"Water!"
"Thanks!"
Taylor put down her guitar and tilted her head to look at him, "Do you know how to play guitar?"
"No! I've never learned an instrument."
Link looked at his hands, used for mining and pushing carts, for taking punches and throwing them, but devoid of other skills. Looking at Taylor's pale, slender fingers, he couldn't help but feel ashamed.
"How about I teach you? The guitar is very simple."
Taylor didn't wait for his refusal, full of enthusiasm, she sat next to him, placed the guitar in her lap, took his fingers, and started explaining every string's pitch, the high and low sound areas, and how to coordinate the fingers.
But she quickly became disappointed, not only was Link's sense of music poor, he didn't understand the slightest music theory, and his fingers were stiff as steel rods, resisting any attempt to bend them.
After half an hour of teaching, Link couldn't even distinguish the simplest high and low notes, and Taylor was almost infuriated to death.
"Why are your fingers so stiff, can't you relax them a bit?"
"Pay attention, can you stop fidgeting your legs?"
"Wrong, you're supposed to press the second string, that's the low sound area, you are so clumsy."
Taylor covered her forehead and lay back in the beach chair with a face full of despondence.
James stood behind the counter, laughing heartily.
"Forget it, forget it, my fingers are too stiff, not suitable for playing guitar."
Link said with a wave of his hand and a smile.
His level of education wasn't high, nor was his appreciation for aesthetics. When he used to train for boxing, he'd listen to some upbeat songs but didn't understand music theory, and he had never touched a musical instrument. Asking him to play guitar was harder than trying to compete for the boxing Golden Belt.
Taylor saw his embarrassed face and found it amusing. Holding back laughter, he said, "How can you give up just because you've hit a little difficulty? If you can't learn, you can learn slowly, but if you give up, you'll never learn. Come on, let's continue. Don't worry, this time I'll control my temper, and I won't get angry with you."
Link had no choice but to keep practicing. Even though Taylor had promised not to lose her temper, after only three or four minutes, her temper flared up again. She waved her fists in front of his face, almost hitting him several times.
Link practiced until he was sweating profusely, while James, the chubby one, laughed until he bent over backward.
Fortunately, business came to the shop—a customer needed a dive guide to tour the underwater coral reefs.
Link breathed a sigh of relief, seized the opportunity to put down the scorching guitar, let Swift continue composing, and took the customers for a dive. He would practice again when he got back.
"Haha, Link, I told you before, she is a tough girl, very tough. I learned that myself yesterday,"
James, the chubby one, joined in with a schadenfreude laugh.
Link put on his diving gear, started the speedboat at the dock, and took the customers for a tour around the sea, visiting nearby coral reefs and sunken shipwrecks.
The two customers were very entertained and gave a hundred US dollars in tips afterward.
When Link returned, Taylor had already left. James said Taylor's mom had come to pick her up in her car, so she'd gone home, but Taylor said she would be back tomorrow. She felt that composing by the beach was great.
With few customers in the afternoon, Link ate a grilled meat meal at the Mexican restaurant next door, woke up from his nap, and began to practice boxing.
In his previous life, his innate physical conditions were poor, with malnutrition, a height of only 171 centimeters, a small skeletal frame, which resulted in insufficient body storage of power and not enough explosive force.
In boxing matches, he could only rely on tenacious willpower, nimble speed, and a super strong ability to take punches to wear out his opponents.
At middleweight and welterweight ranks, he achieved decent results, but moving up to light heavyweight, facing taller and stronger opponents became extremely tough.
After crossing over, his physical fitness was on par with top athletes.
He was 186 centimeters tall, had a wingspan of 192 centimeters, weighed 78.7 kilograms, could jerk 132 kilograms, snatch 141 kilograms, swim 100 meters in under 20 seconds, and run a kilometer in 6 minutes 34 seconds.
Moreover, in this month of training, his strength, speed, and reaction abilities were still slowly improving. His body was becoming stronger and stronger.
Link decided to continue to train and see just how much potential he had.
"Link, we need to pay the management fees,"
James, the chubby one, said while munching on a hot dog as he was training, "This month's utility bills, sanitation fees, public service fees, dock usage fees, venue fees, etc., add up to eight thousand seven hundred US dollars, and our income this month is 14,540 US dollars."
"Sounds like it's not too bad."
Link did sit-ups hanging upside down from the iron rack, exercising his abdominal and lower back muscles.
"Not too bad? How do you hear that as not too bad? I haven't even included the equipment repair and wear and tear costs. With those, our net income this month is less than three thousand. If we pay ourselves salaries, we're down by tens of thousands this month, do you realize that?"
"Don't worry, as long as we're not losing money, that's good,"
Link panted as he spoke.
"But we can't go on like this. After October, there will be fewer divers, business will get even worse. Link, what do you think about selling hot dogs?"
"You know how to make hot dogs? I remember that dive shops can't sell food."
"What about bikinis, eh? Hehe, bikinis are part of the diving gear too."
James, supporting his double chin, imagined the scene of the shop being crammed with bikini-clad women, letting out a series of weird chuckles.
"Stop dreaming, let's just focus on making the dive shop work. We can earn money slowly."
Link continued his upside-down sit-ups on the iron rack, determined to first get back the six-pack abs from his former life.