Halftime.

Mother and son roamed tirelessly throughout the area, almost with relaxation, as they shopped at the market that housed some vintage clothes. Billy never found dresses as incredible as the embroidered striped shirts, along with patterned motifs. How ironic clothing was, changes that surely weren't different and would likely be worn in other years. Wearing interesting clothes, attractive clothes, and the artistic seal went hand in hand with the preferred style.

However, he didn't fancy high-waisted pants or suspenders; he preferred linen trousers, typical of suits. He still liked them with a sleeveless white shirt. After all, he prefers a fashion style to stick to those games of chance that some played in future or distant times. Eye mascara isn't something that fascinates him, so for now, just a polished and clean image.

-Hmm, maybe leather jackets, - the boy thought as he saw a blue leather jacket, quite nice in a storefront, hanging on a hook, slightly worn but looking fabulous with black jeans and white shoes, a white shirt, perhaps an unbuttoned shirt, leaving the chest exposed.

-What are you doing? - Agustina asked.

-I have to choose good clothes if I'm going to go out to sing, and I like this blue leather jacket, with black jeans, and possibly the white unbuttoned shirt we picked out recently; I could wear it for the gig, - Billy said.

-I was hoping you'd wear something more elegant, - Agustina said.

-No glitter or anything like that. I prefer to dress as I used to, perhaps something classy, but I'd never wear those strange clothes, - Billy said.

-Vintage style surprisingly suits you, - Agustina said.

-Let's just buy a few things, - Billy said.

-We need boots. If you want to wear those sneakers all winter, I'm afraid of the hypothermia you might get. I've been shivering since we got off the plane; my fingers hurt," the place, although it had special windows, was somewhat frozen. - We need to buy some food and hope that tomorrow morning someplace will be open early; it's not as cold as it was this afternoon, they say it's a light snowstorm, but it's still unbearable, - Agustina said.

-I want to try your lasagna all week, - Billy said.

-Son, nothing will separate us now. You'll eat as much as you can, as long as you behave. Mr. Jerry must pay attention to your behavior, which can't be worse than what you've had in your recording sessions. You must be impeccable, - Agustina said.

-Mom, you have to stop being so strict, - Billy said.

-I am what I must be, for the sake of my children. You behave, and I'll prepare delicious food. Agustina said, looking at Billy, your literature teacher will come to the house on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays to assist with your private lessons. - Don't give me that look; you bravely spoke about being educated and completing your education up to higher grades, then enrolling in a music school to improve your skills. -

-It's a promise, and I'll do it. Just stop reminding me of things I already know, - Billy said.

-Mr. Grumpy, I'll repeat it to you as many times as necessary, - Agustina said.

Both dedicated themselves to continue choosing clothes. Although they were vintage, the prices were somewhat expensive as expected, but the garments were fantastic for Billy, as he had a clear idea of his clothing style, refusing to go for punk or common rock. He thought of choosing an urban, retro, and elegant style, without being much farther from a formal and informal idea that didn't stray too far from the ordinary.

Both emerged with numerous clothes, while Audrien warmed his hands in the car with a coffee in hand. He was on the phone, the slight tap on his door jolting him awake. He then drove them to a supermarket at Agustina's insistence, and they bought enough food for the next few days. Agustina loved markets and squares, but they weren't readily available, hard to come by in the city streets as she described them, although there were places where the freshness of ingredients could be found.

They climbed up; apparently, everything was furnished, even a bed with what seemed to be a new mattress. They settled in while Agustina organized the place, cleaning every nook and cranny without showing any signs of fatigue. Billy slept on a plastic-covered mattress, dreaming about tomorrow's concert. Agustina turned on the radio, and her son's song "In Too Deep" played after nearly an hour and a half – arguably the best song, with its incredible verses and amazing music proposed by her son.

While sweeping, she turned on the stove and cooked pasta in a hot pot, all in preparation for dinner. She was tempted to make the frozen pizza they bought but decided to save it for a more special occasion. In a second, she prepared ground beef, seasoning it with wine, onions, paprika, and some tomato paste.

-Billy, sweetheart, you need to get ready for dinner, - his mother called from the kitchen.

Billy slept on.

She decided to wait until the food was served. She wanted to make some juice, but for now, bottled juice would suffice. Fresh fruit is always more expensive in stores, and sometimes even those deals are pricier.

-Billy, sweetheart, - she called again, but to no avail.

It turned out Billy was dozing off, lost in dreams, while the rich stew simmered gently. The music stations provided ambiance as Agustina watched her son sleep from the doorway, the sky darkened only by snow clouds, overshadowing the day but not overcoming the night. The heating was already amiably warming the air, while simple dishes were arranged on the table located near the kitchen counter.

The next days were spent at Jerry Wrexler's studio for certain rehearsals, and training sessions aimed at improving his voice, a voice coach specially hired by Jerry. He provided many key insights to understand his harmony with the songs, from breath groupings, melismas, vocal demands, voice levels, and stage presence, as his upcoming concert was only days away from a glorious debut, spurred by the magnificence of his singing voice, surpassing the recorded albums. His voice required extensive training to endure the demanding songs, adverse environments, and the noise of enclosed spaces. He would perform in a bar accommodating 2000 people, 25000 if it's packed enough, and tables are stacked against the walls.

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