One week away from wrapping up the tour, Billy couldn't shake the feeling that the Spanish crowd had grown increasingly enthusiastic about his songs. With such a diverse setlist, he'd earned a Latin Grammy nomination, and much of his work was now highly praised—or at least that's what the relentless press seemed to reflect, following him everywhere. Secluded in his hotel room, he maintained what he called a permanent working state of silence.
–So, I'm dying of sadness knowing I have to sit here like this for the next few days.– Billy said, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the fact that he'd spent weeks rehearsing over and over the lines for King Kong. He had to show up the day after performing for 80,000 people.
–But you're done now.– Connor replied, yawning with deep exhaustion, struggling to stay awake. The powder kept him alert, his eyes bloodshot.
–I am. But we should go out and party... they say the nightlife here is amazing. We can go without being bothered too much.– Billy said, looking at Connor, who now fully understood the beauty of being able to disappear completely—take a few movie roles, then vanish from the radar, become someone no one knows anything about. Just live in a distant, private place where the press isn't allowed to park, where photos cost money to take. He wanted a boring life, doing things only when he felt like it.
–Whatever we do, just please don't jump into the pool again. It was embarrassing. I hated having to admit we were friends.– Connor replied, still bitter about Billy's idea of jumping from the second floor into the pool—something only admirable if you're nine years old.
Billy was strumming his guitar, trying to give his best.
–Come on, man, it was funny. And the hotel didn't say a word.– Billy shot back. The script lay open on the table. He'd spent so much time replaying the scene in his head. Failure terrified him—acting didn't come easily, and he needed help. Someone who could make life easier, someone with the contacts, someone already in the industry.
–It wasn't funny. It was pathetic. But maybe in a few days you'll redeem yourself by hiding underground.– Connor mocked.
–Ha. Ha. Ha. Just a reminder, I need better friends.– Billy said, rolling his eyes. Their friendship had grown entirely indifferent over time.
–Stop whining.– Connor replied, sipping wine. Billy squinted at his friend's growing addictions—from psychoactive substances to the alcohol he now consumed constantly. He seemed perpetually lost in himself.
–How's your girlfriend?– Billy asked.
Connor looked surprised but quickly shook his head, unwilling to open that door. He was always guarded when it came to his private life.
–Nothing to say.–
–We don't talk much, to be honest. It's more physical than anything.– Connor answered. –We've been seeing each other for a while, but it feels off. Uncomfortable. I think she just enjoys sleeping with someone famous.–
–Yeah, that happens… but we've got to enjoy the moments. There are worse ones. And being held by a woman, even if only for a little while, helps ease the loneliness. Just a little.– Billy replied.
–You're such an idiot. A complete fool from head to toe.– Connor said. –There's nothing emptier than being with someone who doesn't love you.–
–Don't be stupid.– Billy said. –It's not empty—it's passionate. You're not chasing love. The connections feel hollow, yes, but intimacy always seeks an opening. Maybe it's not deep love, and unlike what most people think, women often try to take care of you. It's just that you let them in or you shut them out. Usually, that doesn't happen because your head's all messed up.–
–You think that's it?– Connor asked.
–Of course. That's how connection works. Truth makes relationships more intimate.– Billy replied, as he sent a message to Jerry, outlining ideas already forming in his head. –I've got to make a call. It could be important.–
The call was more of a way to stir things up—a move to take control. He'd been planning for a long time how to break into the industry.
…
The final show in Portugal had the world watching. What happens when failure doesn't seem to fit into the world of rock? There are always great bands ready to take the stage.
–Feels like the vibe is electric.– said Jerry, watching a woman with short black hair. She looked a bit down, slightly uncomfortable, like she was running from someone—or something-that-had—had treated her like a foolish girl. She hadn't connected with anyone.
–It's good…– she murmured, listening to the music pulsing with steady power.
enjambre (dulce soledad) Spanish song.
🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶 🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶
Today I could've had someone near.
Broken the ice where I've lived in fear
Today I could've made a new friend
Today, I could've brought this pain to an end
And I see people wrapped in each other
Trading glances, words, and laughter
They flirt, they smile, they fall in love—I know
I see them all, but they don't see me, though
Instead, I have you, my faithful affair
You're always with me, lurking there
You never speak, but you're always around
In long hours we hide, without a sound
Your silence conceals who you are
I'll call you by name—my sweet solitaire
🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶 🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶
When something feels different, and Billy's songs brushed gently against the sensitivity of love, he connected with a new fan base. His music stirred emotions in the crowd.
He poured in memories of happiness and images that glowed in his mind—two lives, merging through pictures. When someone recalls joy, it's often tied to memories, ideas, sparks… even the taste of food, of chocolate, or a favorite treat that triggers that spark. He imagined the beach, New York, London, Tokyo—places filled with wonder. Then came the shift, pulling it all back into his little world.
🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶 🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶
And I see people wrapped in each other
Trading glances, words, and laughter
They flirt, they smile, they fall in love—I know
I see them all, but they don't see me, though
Instead, I have you, my faithful affair
You're always with me, lurking there
You never speak, but you're always around
In long hours we hide, without a sound
Your silence conceals who you are
I'll call you by name—my sweet solitaire
Sweet solitaire
🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶 🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶
–Thank you for coming.– said Billy, completely drenched in sweat, his long hair slicked back, glowing with a grin.
The crowd shouted "one more, one more," voices echoing wildly. Two hours hadn't been enough—they were still singing. Billy glanced at the clock. He was already an hour late and had taken two breaks. The organizers had allowed for up to a three-hour delay until 10:00 p.m. Now there were just twenty minutes left.
–One last song, and then you can all go to hell… I've got a date waiting. I love you all, but a beautiful woman should never be kept waiting.– Billy said, flashing a wicked smile.
....