setback.

Billy didn't worry about Avril. He just went about his usual routine—teasing Merche, calling his list of women, making promises, keeping them, and baring his soul as if everything he said were true. Then he would leave, disappear for a while, and return two or three days later, as if nothing had happened.

Jerry arrived in London to keep an eye on the situation, but nothing changed. The only new development was a headline recounting Avril's experience with Billy, digging up old secrets and exposing his private life. By the next morning, the story would spread from People magazine to every other tabloid and newspaper. The interview would showcase the teenage star in her latest look—lingerie-clad, her black hair tousled, mascara smudged, exuding a clear sense of heartbreak and torment. Her decision to pull out of Billy's upcoming film was a direct consequence of their falling out, her public accusation that he had cheated on her with countless models. A photo of Adriana later fueled more speculation and gossip.

Michael Ocklars was fielding multiple interview requests, and the press had gotten wind of Billy's arrival—even though he wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the residential area. This neighborhood had restricted access, with tight security measures in place to keep journalists out.

Some reporters, defiant as ever, tried to bypass the barriers but were immediately stopped. One was even mistaken for a burglar and arrested when a concerned resident called the police. Unfortunately for them, a local government official and the chief of police lived in the neighborhood, making it a grave misstep for the press. The incident only reinforced the residents' demand for privacy.

-I don't want to go apologize, - Billy muttered.

-You have to, - Mrs. G scolded him over breakfast. - Go visit the family you caused trouble for.-

Then, as if she hadn't just reprimanded him, she added, - And get ready—Jerry's coming over. He has some important matters to discuss with you.-

-Yes, ma'am, - Billy replied, grabbing a slice of chocolate cake. Mrs. G took another one with her, meant as a peace offering for the family of the local governor, who lived in a massive three-story mansion.

She went ahead to meet the household of the police colonel, one of the highest-ranking officials in London, a man of vital importance. The area was filled with million-pound homes, and Billy had managed to secure one at a bargain, purely by luck.

Knocking gently on the door, Mrs. G took a deep breath. A twelve-year-old girl answered, but the moment she laid eyes on Billy, she let out a scream so loud it startled everyone inside. Billy raised an eyebrow, unsure how to react. A younger boy and their mother soon rushed down the stairs, both looking wary and visibly uncomfortable. The boy pressed his lips together in clear disapproval.

-I'm sorry to bother you, Madam, - Billy said, directing his words at the mother. - I just wanted to bring you a little cake—my caretaker made it, and she's an excellent baker. -

Meanwhile, the girl stood frozen, completely stunned by the unexpected presence of her celebrity crush. If Billy were to go upstairs, he'd probably find posters of himself on her bedroom door—just like kids who plaster their walls with football players.

-Oh, darling… What a pleasure, - the woman finally responded.

-I also brought a list of ingredients, just in case there are any allergies. I truly apologize for any inconvenience,- Billy continued, handing her the note. -My representative is working on clarifying everything and arranging interviews to prevent further misunderstandings.-

He flashed a wink at the mother and another at the girl, who turned beet red. Billy couldn't help but notice that the woman was younger than she seemed, while the father already had graying hair.

-Oh, thank you, sweetheart! That's very thoughtful of you, - she said warmly.

-My pleasure. Well, I think that's everything,- Billy replied.

Young women are always attractive, he mused to himself. He had a certain appreciation for older women, too—their bronzed skin, their confidence, their charm.

Mrs. G nodded approvingly before heading to the kitchen to prepare a meal—perhaps one of her special dishes, something she only made when she was in a good mood. Billy sighed, grabbed one of his guitars, and started playing, letting his music fill the space as he practiced.

-I made lasagna, some bread, and mashed potatoes,- Mrs. G announced, clearly anticipating Jerry's arrival. He was a demanding guest.

Billy Carson

Singing: (2474/4200) Level 10: Guru

Piano: (945/1024) Level 7: Veteran

Guitar: (1483/2048) Level 8: Expert

Violin: (34/64) Level 4: Semi-Professional

Global Ranking: 7/8,340,000

Followers: 25,693,030

His numbers were soaring, and in the coming months, they would only climb higher. The projections were crude, based mostly on people's reactions to the latest events, but the trend was clear.

…

Jerry arrived within minutes. Billy's manager spotted him outside, strumming his acoustic guitar in the driveway. The melody had a fantastic pop sound—something with a nostalgic '70s ballad vibe.

-So, everything seems calm,- Jerry thought as he walked up, his cane tapping firmly against the ground. His slow, deliberate pace exuded authority, making his presence felt even in business negotiations.

-Boss,- Billy greeted him, stretching his arms as if shaking off any impending discomfort.

-Kid, how was Spain?- Jerry asked as they stepped inside.

They spent some time catching up. Billy answered several questions without offering unnecessary details—everything was business and publicity-related. Jerry pressed him for specifics, his inquiries precise and cutting. He always asked directly what should or shouldn't be done, never leaving room for ambiguity.

-She was acting strange, a little different, but nothing too concerning,- Billy admitted. -We went out partying, and she stayed at a friend's place, but things got complicated. I had a three-day recording session, so I barely saw her. Time passed, and she was fine… but when I returned, she suddenly hated me. Honestly, I don't care. -

Jerry studied Billy's face, nodding as he listened. Love was always unpredictable. The worst thing a musician could do was fall in love. Nothing was more dangerous for an artist than losing themselves in passion and madness.

Jerry's gaze sharpened. He patted his knee and sighed before asking for a glass of water. His throat felt dry, his chest a little tight. He knew he needed to see a doctor soon, but for now, he relished being back in the business world. He had to reconnect with old friends and find a moment to unwind.

He handed Billy a newspaper. As Billy read, his expression hardened. The words hit him like a punch: "The guy's a failure. He acts cool, but in reality, he's just a scared little boy looking for a mother."

Jerry smirked, reading the reaction on Billy's face. This was exactly what he expected. People always turn irrational in these situations. Posing half-naked and launching a tirade against Billy—it was all part of a vengeful spectacle.

-When you hurt someone, especially a woman, don't expect her to be calm, - Jerry chuckled. - No matter how wise or composed she is, emotions can drive people mad in moments like this. Just try to be a good man. -

His laughter echoed through the house.

-Oh, come on, take it easy! - Billy groaned. - It's hard to predict what people will do. I was clear with her—I liked her as a friend. But she kept throwing herself at me. She even crawled into my bed naked. She's completely insane. -

-Ahhh, don't be an idiot, - Jerry scoffed. - Be more careful next time. Everything you say, do, or show will be public knowledge. If all you want is a casual fling, fine—but the good women in your life won't necessarily be the sexiest or the most beautiful. Those women are elsewhere. The entertainment world leaves traces, and those traces follow your career. It can be lucrative, but it's best to play that game when you're older.-

Billy had half a mind to punch him, but took a deep breath instead. He felt like saying Go to hell, but reason told him that wasn't the point. The point was the spectacle.

How could someone as sweet as Avril act so damn petty?

-Man, you gotta be careful with your words, - Billy muttered.

-Hahahaha! - Jerry burst out laughing.

-Don't stress over it, kid. When the public talks about you, it's because they love you. That girl is giving you a lot of attention. Your image consultant and interview coach will be here tomorrow—just act like a rock star. Be indifferent. Say something arrogant and then pull the usual contrast. It always works. -

Then Jerry added, -By the way, I made contact with Red Bull. There's a sponsorship deal in the works. Sounds almost too good to be true. -

...