musical prospectus.

The Level One state, a true amateur, that's what Billy was at this moment. The music wasn't good enough to be recognized, let alone to give a full-fledged concert, but Billy was steps away because he was a very honest cheat.

-Like a Stone. - the song circulating in his mind since yesterday, kept playing.

-Mr. Spencer, I have a question. If I write a song, is it possible for you to help me record a demo? I'll ask my mother to register the music with the copyright office, but I'm unsure about how to record a demo to send to a specific record label. - said Billy.

Spencer gaped like a fish. - Song... demo. Kid, the process is not so straightforward. But I'll help you as much as I can. At the conservatory, we can use the acoustic room for the recording. I have someone who might be interested if everything is good — a good song, don't think it's that simple. - said Spencer.

Billy had to shake his head. Although he didn't know the band that sang this song very well, he had heard it many times. And he was sure it would be a historic success. The song not only gave him a sense of relief for the past three months when his normal life changed in a chance event he still considered improbable, but it also matched the issues he was going through. Just thinking about it...

-The music room is downstairs. - said Nurse Rose, a short and slim woman whom Billy had seen yesterday.

-Do you have a piano? - asked Spencer.

-No, sir, but there's a synthesizer, although it's a bit small since it's for children. It will surely be useful for the young man's music class, who seems to be recovering.- said Rose.

Billy tried to nod, but the neck brace still prevented him from making the small gesture. He could only raise his hand in a gesture of gratitude. The music room, indeed, looked like a children's haven with small chairs. The piano was a synthesizer with some red circles that produced sounds when pressed and a microphone.

-So, we'll start with The Barber of Seville. - said Spencer, getting ready to play the opera on a child's piano.

-Allow me, teacher. I want to play the song in my mind; it's like it repeats over and over. - said Billy.

The sound of the piano keys wasn't very good, but it had the entire musical scale, from low to high. Although Billy wasn't an expert, he undoubtedly had the talent to distinguish the sounds.

-'Start with a G sharp.' - said Billy, playing the characteristic melody. It was followed by a high G, followed by F (Fa), a C, and D, but the silence of Billy lasted for 10 to 15 minutes. Spencer could see the polished and skillful creative process; the melody kept playing, faster each time. Billy's closed eyes, hurt and wounded, gave him the description of a poet, forgotten in the boroughs of the Renaissance, where poverty and beauty sought each other as sister friends.

Spencer was stunned, and the more he listened to the emerging piano melody, he knew from the get-go that this young man was a gem destined to succeed in music, given the opportunity. A coal waiting to be a diamond, a coal lacking the precise fire to be beautiful. This is the talent that his teachers often mentioned! The one born with talent doesn't need to show off because, with just a display of their ability, everyone will bow at their feet. No excuse to say it refers to the unique and irreplaceable talent, not just good, not sensational. We're talking about magnificent, incredible, or impossible talent

Just as Billy stopped, Spencer was about to applaud, but the reverberating voice, somewhat hoarse, sounded like an artificial explosion that could trade silence for glory—a silence shattered by a song performed by the young man.

On a cobweb afternoon, in a room full of emptiness

By a freeway, I confess I was lost in the pages

Of a book full of death, reading how we'll die alone

And if we're good, we'll lay to rest anywhere we want to go

In your house, I long to be

Room by room, patiently

I'll wait for you there, like a stone

I'll wait for you there alone

And on my deathbed, I will pray to the gods and the angels

Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to Heaven

To a place I recall, I was there so long ago

The sky was bruised, the wine was bled

And there you led me on

In your house, I long to be

Room by ro…

-Cough, cough. - Billy's groan, his sore throat didn't allow him to continue the strident song that had a demanding vocal requirement, one in a hundred. – What do you think, maestro? – said Billy with teary eyes.

-This is simply unheard of, young man. Did you write it yourself? – said Spencer, rubbing the few hairs he had on the side, as he was bald at the age of thirty-four.

-Of course, it's all my work and composition. It's been in my head for quite some time and couldn't get out; only now do I feel like I've let out the lyrics of the song. – said Billy.

Both, the young and the old, stayed lost in thought, without practicing The Barber of Seville, which now sounded very timid compared to the composition of young Billy. The piano and the singing gave it a certain charm, typical of an artist. Someone with a musical background could see the genius of the young man in the first notes.

-I think we can make the demo. – said Spencer, pondering how to make a demo. Although it's not recommended, a microphone, the piano, and a closed and quiet environment can be ideal for this type of performance. He could record everything and burn it on the computer; the university had a small studio that he could borrow for an hour.

Taking Billy to the university? Not a bad idea. – thought Spencer.

-I believe the demo is the most plausible option. – said Spencer, revisiting the idea of creating a song with the young man.

-That sounds fantastic, maestro, although let's wait until I feel better. I still have some discomfort from all the hospital issues. – said Billy.

-Don't worry, kid, I'll have everything ready for when the time comes. We'll make a demo and submit it to all the record labels in California if possible. When they see your talent, they'll be thrilled. – said Spencer, nodding about the opportunities that young Billy had for his future work.

The night sun streamed through the cracks, but it already indicated the hour when Spencer had to leave. However, as always, he charmed and polished Billy's piano skills well into the night. When a nurse finally dragged them out of the room, commenting that the visiting hours had ended four hours ago, the music room represented a time out of the ordinary due to its sporadic use and secluded location away from the gaze of nurses. The rounds didn't share a strict surveillance duty, and more than one was directed to patient care. This time, it wasn't Rose; it was a young woman with a unique appearance, a hospital resident on her rounds.

-We deeply apologize, sir. – Spencer said, apologizing for the late hour, as it was even late for him. What would his nanny say?

-Well, sir, I invite you to leave the hospital when possible... It's not very common for people not to pay attention, but we'll forget about this mishap. As for you, young man, I'll take you to your room; you must rest with the way you look. – The young woman spoke. San Martin Hospital, specializing in caring for the elderly, children, adolescents, and pregnant women, has a soft and permissive environment suitable for the kind of clients they receive.

-See you tomorrow, right? – Billy asked Maestro Spencer.

-Of course, kid. You can't use the piano, but I'll teach you to play the guitar. An artist should know how to play one when the situation calls for it. – The man adjusted his diamond-patterned sweatshirt and left the small room, one shoe askew, a habit he acquired as a child and hasn't lost even as an adult. But Spencer only cares about what he needs to do, and that's the demo that Billy needs.

-I wouldn't have found out if I hadn't heard you sing. You sing beautifully. – The nurse said, which wasn't entirely true, as he was only good for sporadic singing. The faithful statistics were there: amateur, an amateur in singing and piano.

Status:

Billy Carson.

Singing: (9/10) Level 1: Amateur.

Piano: (5/10) Level 1: Amateur.

Worldwide rating:

---

-Just sing for fun. – Billy said upon reaching his room.

-That's commendable. I wanted to be a race car driver when I was your age, but you see, I chose medicine. Good luck, Billy. – The nurse said, leaving Billy in his room. Joseph's snoring could be heard; the old man was completely exhausted and could barely walk, sleeping most of the time.

Many things to mention, firstly, "Like a Stone" is a song by Audioslave. There are piano covers on YouTube, and in summary, here are my favorite songs.