He laughed at the fear that came over him every time he gave in to those anxieties called the night of a harmonic act. One less concert, six more to go—it was a rushed tour, and he felt he wasn't giving Latin America the recognition it deserved. Yet dismissing the thought, he was certain it didn't matter at all, not compared to the roar of a song performed with all the force it demanded.
The chant of "otra" rose like a rhythm repeated again and again, but he had no time. He had gone more than twenty minutes over, and now he was sure that backstage they'd be telling him to just wrap it up. The promoter urged him to cut it. He nodded, bowed deeply, and stepped back.
-lamento esto, pero me tengo que ir. – Billy said.
His role was nearly scripted, a pattern he repeated so often it had become part of his persona. Now, slightly more at ease, he was playing with his new handheld console. Few games yet, but he was happy replaying them again and again—it was a shame it felt so good, like a sweetened little journey played with intensity.
- —Te esperan las fotos después del concierto. —they whispered.
He gave a confirming nod. He knew that even as time passed and his opportunities became tempered by future deals, there were solutions to be made—agreements to be honored. He took the following moments for photos with those who had the right passes. It was a long stretch. Many women hugged him tightly; others lingered to make him take his time, to do what he ought, as much as he could.
Some of them, with little chance to get even an inch closer, were bold. They were strong, kissing his cheeks, doing everything they could to make him take a stand, to choose them before he might reject or dismiss. No one could deny that, in those fleeting moments, lost in thought, he was well aware of the risks and the truths before him.
His memory drifted closer to reality, to the truth.
-tengo ganas de jugar algo que sea de carros o quizás una historia de guerra. – he whispered to himself. One fan grabbed his ass—a little too daring for a fan, reckless in the urgency of the moment.
-ten cuidado, chica. – Billy whispered, eyeing the young woman who had come close. She was maybe twenty-five at most—no older, that was clear. And though others pulled such stunts, Billy found women's rebelliousness frequent, a reflection of the same drive men carried. Some gave in to conquest, so common, others simply took that risk as a chance to let desire reach them.
Some blew him kisses; others wanted deep ones.
-tienes tiempo para otro más, sería un gusto. – came a voice he knew instantly, a voice so familiar, carried in sighs, in whispers that always seemed to be a step toward truth, toward an answer woven in.
-Oh, darling, what a joy it is to see you. – Billy said, waiting just beside her. He knew for certain that whatever darkness lingered in him was eased when she was near. Pressing his forehead to her soft skin, he found reassurance. Her blonde hair framed her face, her timid smile—he didn't know how to compose himself in such difficult, tense moments. Yet in drawing closer, there was no fear, only the unmeasured richness of her presence.
-vine por una foto. – Scarlett said.
-Una foto será. – Billy replied, leaning in for her embrace. She always smelled so good—mornings, afternoons, nights—her scent never left him, her freshness, her calming heartbeat. It was something he could live in for years, never wanting to escape the fragrance, the taste of her.
Settling enough to hold her tightly, arms pressed against her, they took a photo. What beauty, just to have her there.
-Well, I didn't expect this. It's such a gift to have you here today. So close to me. For a long time, I thought our schedules wouldn't align until March. – Billy sighed, rubbing his head against hers like a cat, like a loyal dog making a gesture of love.
-I had some time off. Looks like I've got a week. The director's tied up with family matters, and I hardly have scenes left—they'll save mine for the end while rehearsals go on. It's exactly what we hoped it would be. – Scarlett answered, laughing softly at Billy's behavior. Nothing slipped past her, but all of it felt undeniably real.
They climbed into the trailer that would take them to the hotel, a near-empty space, forgotten by time, like something from thousands of years ago. Billy rested his head on her lap while she gently ran her fingers through his hair. It relaxed him completely.
-I've been talking about making movies with you—it'd be interesting to see you act again. I loved how hard you worked last time. – Scarlett said.
-I think I like it. – Billy answered with a sigh. – I've got a movie lined up for October 25. Warner's got a project they think I'd fit in—almost ten minutes of screen time. –
Well, if they're supporting roles, you can film three or four in that time. – Scarlett suggested. A secondary role could be just right for these occasions.
-Two will be enough. I want to keep learning as much as I can. – Billy said. – though maybe you can bring me some old-school films—I've been longing for our evenings spent with those classics. –
She watched his eyes, so sincere, and felt torn. The news swirling around him weighed on her. Thousands of articles chronicling his daily life, every photo turned into a headline—so many stories born from them. Even now, she felt caught in the hurricane, crushed under the scrutiny of so many eyes.
It will help you to imitate Robert Redford. Do it over and over. And don't forget you've got a charming profile. I see you in more than ten dramatic scenes—your human way of playing reflective roles suits you. With another touch, you can handle romance, drama, all kinds of wonders. – Scarlett said.
-to each their own—we'll do that, and nothing more. – Billy answered, staring at her rosy lips, made for kissing.
-I missed you so much. It's good to have you with me, to sleep beside me. – Billy said, aching for the warmth of her embrace, longing to rest in Scarlett's arms like a child seeking eternal peace.
...