seventh night.
The luxurious breakfast lay in front of him as he wore a white bathrobe, his hair still wet. He sighed into the air, savoring the citrus on his lips. Alessandra breathed peacefully; they had both had long nights recently. But that was part of what allowed them to live, driven by that inherent force called passion—irresistibly, it was easy to surrender to it. Even if she denied it, her bewitching catlike smile and her stretches were just a drop in the iceberg.
Billy couldn't help but gaze at the curve of her collarbone, her slender body carved like a sculpture, from her delicate, feminine hands to her porcelain-thin arms that reacted to any touch. Her neck, framed by dark-brown curls, seemed made for kissing, and her lips were swollen.
They looked at each other, ignoring the passage of time that typically belonged to workdays, absorbed in the moment. Filled with reveries, in a shared world that felt like fantasy, daytime was their refuge, while nightfall became a playground of freedom, marked by grand, recurring parties. Michael Ocklars observed everything with a forgetful eye, merely attending to his duties, and informing Billy about the schedule and his obligations. Billy discarded his robe, revealing his naked form as he prepared for his beach workout, pushing his limits to the beat of music from his MP3 player. Two security guards tracked his every move, a small team but enough for this kind of privacy. Tours were a different story, where the chaos of crowds and euphoric fans followed every song.
Billy jogged along the beach, working up a healthy sweat. He remembered running in Arizona, feeling at home in a place that, though dangerous, had shaped him with a unique sense of honor.
-Michael, I have some songs to record. I hope the band will be ready when I get to England, - Billy told the man who would temporarily manage his affairs.
-What date do you have in mind? I can arrange for the group to meet. Most of them have the time now, even the guy from the university finished his project, -Michael replied.
-I'm not sure, but I want them ready by next week at the latest. I have to go on the 23rd for my back tattoo. Ideally, I'd like them to be there early so they can get a good rhythm with the songs. Some are challenging and need dedicated time, - Billy explained.
-I'll see what I can do. Let me know if anything else comes up, - Michael said, reviewing the agenda. -You have lines to rehearse for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and the Nike campaign started last week. You need to do a photoshoot for them, to produce various displays. Finally, we've got new brands interested in making you the face of their companies. They even sent a state-of-the-art guitar—one is waiting at your London home, and another in New York. -
Michael adjusted his glasses, rereading the details, while Billy nodded absentmindedly, absorbed in anything but his obligations. But it didn't matter now; he knew the lines by heart, and the photo sessions were easy with professional photographers.
-Sounds good, Michael, but next week. - Billy gave him a casual smile, clapping him on the shoulder before heading to his room, where he found his guitar case lying on the bed. A good song was never a missed opportunity.
…
Alessandra went shopping with her friends, browsing new collections and unique local designs. In different parts of the world, she always found clothing to suit her taste; this was her way of exploring style, considering dresses she might come back for.
-So, you're into a guy four years younger, Alessandra. Never thought you'd go for the younger type, - Isabelli Fontana teased, heating things. It was a shame Giselle wasn't there; her lively personality would surely have added to the fun.
-In love? Ha, we're just living in Monaco, Isabelle. Maybe you should shake off the dust a little, - Alessandra replied, eyeing a cropped top, which made the young woman smile, exuding the rebellious charm she embodied.
-Oh, so you admit it—quite an admission for someone who was in denial. Maybe you'll even have a few kids with him, - Isabella replied, her eyelids fluttering playfully, nudging Alessandra, who rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing. The happy look on her friend's face was enough to confirm that Billy made her feel special, like a smitten schoolgirl.
-Don't tease her. Alessandra's more than captivated, -Adriana added, hugging her. She knew Billy wasn't like just anyone.
-I'm not in love, enough with this nonsense, - Alessandra retorted.
-Sometimes, a few minutes are all it takes for infatuation to take over. Doesn't matter,- Adriana whispered. Billy's charm lay in his unusual way of viewing things; his magnetism was captivating but carefree. His defiance didn't come from drinking or drugs, but from living life on his terms, following his desires with passion—a trait whispered about by the women he left heartbroken.
…
Billy arrived at the store where the girls were, wearing white shorts and an open black shirt. His jewelry glimmered, not gold chains, but a thin silver one from his mother, and two small medallions engraved with their names, along with bracelets on his arms. His confident presence made people turn.
-My love, - Billy said, holding Alessandra's waist as she turned to push him away, only to be met with a passionate kiss that she couldn't stop, responding just a little. The kiss was charged with enough desire to take her breath away.
-What are you doing here?-
-I found you by chance. I was in the music store across the way, buying some picks. I lost my last one, -Billy explained, pointing to the music store nearby. Coincidentally, he had wanted to buy some picks, but the clerk, recognizing him, offered them for free if he signed a guitar. Billy hesitated but finally agreed. The long-haired man had that bohemian musician look, clearly passionate about music.
Have any song requests? - Adriana joked.
-Actually, they asked me to close the final set. I came to invite you all to paint street art - Billy responded, giving them a wink. The woman, though unsure about street art, decided to take him up on the invitation.
...