heartbreaker.

Billy walked out of the tattoo parlor and answered a call from Avril. For a long time, she had denied that there was anything more between them. Billy had been tempted to pursue a relationship with her, but it was impossible to have such a public partner due to Warner's decree. Sales were higher if women believed they had a chance with him.

He didn't want to share this, but he also had a weakness for long-legged models. The steamy conversations with Jessica Stam lately filled him with a particular sense of power—a feeling of invincibility, as if he could have any woman he desired. This led him to flirt with Alessandra, though deep down, he also wanted all her friends. It was the desire for what wasn't his. Avril was understandably hurt.

–I've missed you,– Billy said, sounding regretful.

–Oh, so much that you slept with that model? The one who looks down on everyone with such disdain? – Avril retorted over the phone.

–I don't remember those dates... but hey, how are you? I just got a tattoo on my back—a tiger, just like we picked out. – Billy replied. Avril sighed while her friend, sitting beside her, cursed her for being so foolish. Surely, she was under his spell, the brunette thought, as Billy's words effortlessly made her laugh.

–I'd love to see it. I really would. – Avril said softly.

–I want you to sing with me on the European tour. People need to hear how talented you are. It's one of the best improvements the European market has seen in a while. – Billy added.

–Of course! When does the tour start? – Avril responded eagerly, while her friend felt the urge to bang her head against the wall. She simmered with disapproval, unable to comprehend how someone could be so smitten and mortified at the same time.

–I'll call my agent to coordinate with yours. – Billy replied. –I bought a few things for you. A friend of mine runs a shop with some amazing leather jackets. I might pick out a few for you. I still think red looks fantastic on you. –

After some more small talk, Avril hung up. Billy glanced at the three young guys sitting at a white table nearby. Checking his contacts, he noticed several ignored messages. For instance, Amanda Seyfried had commented on his recent trip to Monaco. Emma had sent him five messages every couple of days.

"Someone's persistent," Billy typed with a smirk. "Hey, if you're in love with me, just say so, and I'll make time… I was celebrating my birthday in Monaco, but of course, I'd be happy to visit you. Though I think your parents would love me." He sent the message. "See you at the recordings—rehearsals start next week."

It was hard to explain Billy's confidence. The young girl was waiting to tell Billy how she felt, but a photo of him kissing a supermodel four years older than him had left her feeling inadequate. It was almost like a punch to the gut.

Billy returned to the lunch table where the four boys were waiting. People started connecting the dots: Billy was hanging out with the cast of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The revelation was staggering. His move to a new residence sparked even more questions.

Merche was pacing back and forth nervously. Paula handed her a few outfits as she touched up her makeup. She wanted to feel beautiful for her date. Her hands trembled slightly, and she tried to take deep breaths.

–You look stunning. That skirt is killer. – Paula said, admiring Merche's slim legs and the black-and-gold top that fit her beautifully.

–I don't think this suits me…– Merche murmured anxiously.

–You look gorgeous! Honestly, there's no better woman than you. You're breathtaking, friend… though I don't think your date will even care about the outfit. He'll probably just pin you against the wall. Oh my god, did you see those abs? He could stop a bullet. – Paula teased.

–I'm such a fool. He's a rock star. I'll just enjoy myself and hope it's a nice night. At least I'll have a story for family gatherings. My parents, uncles, cousins—they won't believe it. It's like Mom going out with Robert Redford. Oh my god. – Merche's nerves were completely getting the better of her. She feared rejection and ridicule as if she were part of some cruel joke.

–He's dreamy, like someone out of a fairy tale. Nobody's that perfect. Maybe he's Illuminati. – Paula quipped.

–Don't ruin this for me! Now that's all I can think about. – Merche laughed nervously.

Merche arrived around six. She didn't take Billy's driver—her friend Paula dropped her off instead. It was better this way; her friend could help her explain things. With her heart pounding in her chest, she asked to enter. The security guard's stern gaze made her feel small, but she waited, trying to appear innocent.

Mrs. G, Billy's housekeeper, opened the door. She gave Merche a once-over, sighed as if resigned, and let her in. Billy was working out in the backyard, doing pull-ups. His body moved up and down, his arms thick—or at least to her, they seemed massive.

–Merche. – Billy grinned, dropping to the ground and easily pulling her into a hug. –You look incredible. God, the wait was worth every minute. –

She melted at his words.

Roger Ames had been negotiating with various people for some time. It seemed unlikely Billy would win a Grammy this season. Billy's power in America came down to three things: he put on the best shows in the world, even with just a mic stand; he was already compared to the greats; and his stage presence captivated a generation of young fans. All signs pointed to John Mayer, who had signed with Columbia, taking the Grammy. Meanwhile, Ray Charles, in his final days, was also in the mix, with Universal Music holding his rights. The importance of the Grammys lies in their impact on sales and future opportunities.

Evanescence had just released My Immortal, adding to the competition. U2 wanted a Grammy badly, and Billy had already beaten them once. Now, they were determined to take it back. The stakes were high—future earnings and legacy were on the line.

–We've got it. I'll step aside, but I expect your help… you know we're taking a big risk. – Roger Ames said in a tone laced with greed and ambition. As an executive, his goals revolved around percentages, dividends, and market dominance.

–Then we'd better talk terms. What did you promise the kid? – asked Columbia Records' agent, setting a clear boundary. Beyond that, the Columbia board would need to weigh in.

Within ten minutes, they decided who the Grammys would favor this year. The industry would make the call.

...