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howls

July 1, 2001.

Billy focused his gaze closely, not far from a nearby sign predicted by a car, which was perched in the distance seeking an answer. He saw a place hidden behind Billy's sad eyes, still processing the correct information, the fear... a new fear, the fear of death, a fear that brought an unpredictable obsession. His mother, as pure as she was, was a noblewoman, decent, always cheerful, and sought to help the people around her... She had a problem with football, food, and clothing... but she also had a problem with parties, she loved to celebrate them, just as she loved to watch the stars from the window, even if invisible, she observed them with brilliant delight. She hated the cold and cherished everything natural.

While listening to some nurses talk, the songs memorized themselves one by one with a certain panic, all the sad songs came to his memory like arrows, and raindrops awakening the movement of the city of Liverpool. It was 2:00 pm, the exact time for his medicine, the precise moment to soothe the pain coursing through his body. His whole body burned, especially his chest, which ached with the pain of broken ribs, just as his head hurt, as did his legs and his eyes.

-Mr. Carson, I brought the medicine, - said the doctor, stepping closer and seeing the complexity in the boy's defeated gaze. In words and whispers, he accepted the whole situation with a sudden joy and a fear of the unknown. The boy seemed to be a great teenage singer, with cameras gathering around him as others came together to learn about everything that had happened. Some nurses were offered a hundred pounds for any relevant information.

-Thank you, doctor. I'm afraid the pain is still present, and at times I can't move perfectly, - said Billy.

-Honey, take the pill and rest for a while. You're sleepy. Just like me, I'm exhausted by everything that has happened. The hospital has become chaotic, you too... sleep, my child, - said the sweet nurse Hughes, who, despite being the head nurse and always trying to be tough on people, had a heart as tender and fresh as a child's. Seeing the face of the little orphan, her heart told her only to care for the boy with all her love, with affection, dedication, and compassion.

Billy took his pill, but sleep did not come. Just as his chances for rest also became apparent.

***

Jerry arrived around three-thirty. After such a pleasant meeting and seeing the changes taking place in the company, and the blow, he needed to quell the doubts. Many negotiations were so present that he could still enumerate them: clothing commercials, food commercials, sports commercials, scheduled concerts, tour programs, interview calls, notes, and so many others that only made Jerry's head explode, with the eternal displeasure his heart faced.

-Thanks, I'll proceed with caution, - said Jerry.

His path was to another confrontation with Billy. This time, he had to prepare the boy mentally. Walking through the whitewashed corridors of the hospital, he sighed with the tranquility so needed in the regular hospitals that received all kinds of emergencies.

-Excuse me, can you refer me to the head of the hospital, Mr. Alfonso? We have a business to build together, and I'd prefer it to be quick, - said Jerry.

-Unfortunately, no... but you can go to administration and request what you need, - said the woman at the counter, nurse Valr.

Jerry sighed and made his way in search of the much-desired Alfonso. He got within two steps of an administrative nurse, starting to hate this hospital, though.

-Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm Jerry, and I have a request regarding my client, Mr. Billy Carson, - said Jerry.

-Of course, I am fully aware of everything that's happening, - said the head nurse, in charge of administrative affairs.

Jerry looked down the hall, calming his thoughts. He didn't want to be here; he felt somewhat suffocated in an unusual way. He let out a deep sigh, almost using his voice in a simple note of power, lacking air, in a curious way. He struck the cane against the desk.

-I would like the boy to have a psychologist or some help to vent. I want to know at least his mental state, I want to know everything necessary to help him. I can hire a specialized professional, or perhaps you have someone in charge who can handle all situations, - said Jerry.

The nurse, with her hair in a ponytail and a light hat, is in an imagined place in her light blue uniform.

-We have a health professional who can take care of that job, but there's a small fee, for the associated work. We have a plan for seven to eight sessions over the next few weeks, - said the head nurse.

-I'll pay, but my boy leaves in two weeks, so schedule the sessions every two days, - said Jerry, with a frown, and although he didn't notice, his presence was commanding. Despite not wearing his elegant clothes, he visited with an open wool jacket and a beach shirt without buttons, his voice was powerful, in a way that couldn't be ignored.

-Thank you. -

***

-Boy. - Jerry commented.

-Old Jerry. - said the boy.

-It hasn't changed us at all. - Jerry said, knowing the deep meaning of his words, always carrying a subtext.

-Connor called. He's more down than I am. He asked if I had new songs. - Billy smiled.

Putting down the book in his hands, the pile of twelve books was all there. Only music and reading simply calmed his mind. Many times, reading only mattered for ordering from the menu or reading news about himself, the kind that provided requested updates.

-I'll bring a cell phone with an international line so you can call anyone. Some people, the band want to talk to you, and Joe Daniels, the vocalist of Local H, regrets your loss and says you'll always have a place in Chicago. - Jerry said.

-Did Joe say that? - Billy asked, raising his head.

-He did. You can always count on those two. Though arrogant and pedantic, they're all good people once you strip away the bad parts. - Jerry commented.

-Thanks, Mr. Jerry. Here, I have everything you need. In it, there are two special things. I have all the songs; I'd like you to take all the forms and publish them in my name. Can you do that? - Billy asked, handing over a stack of papers, closer than he thought, each with great titles.

-Sure, I'll give you the request… and show you the document that credits you with the copyrights. Just hand them over, kid. - Jerry commented.

-Thanks, old man. I feel like having beef empanadas, with hot sauce, and house sauce. Also, if you can bring a big steak, I'm disappointed with the food here. I crave the Latin seasoning my mom used to cook. How about a trip to eat the day after I get out? - Billy asked.

-I can do that, and I can bring some meat, lasagna. This is a hospital, not a prison, as long as it's not something forbidden like alcohol. - Jerry commented.

-Spill it, old man. - Billy said, looking straight at Jerry. On his nightstand, he leaned over his shoulders with some displeasure and started reading different literature books, starting with Harry Potter, a cliché he was willing to enjoy.

-The record company requests that as soon as you recover, we use the media to sell products. We have a call from Vans sneakers to endorse, along with Quicksilver and other brands. We chose everything in detail, but we have a small store of handmade leather jackets. They're of good quality, only giving collector's pieces, no payment, but their gifts are well received. - Jerry commented.

-I'll take the commercials. I guess nothing matters anymore. Yeah, old man, let's do it. Besides, I want a girlfriend, they say, women - Billy commented.

Taking note of everything that happened, the bomb dropped.

-They want to film your mother's funeral. They say if you look sad, we'll sell more. - Jerry commented, treading on eggshells, saying it so abruptly.

-You don't have to do it if you don't want to, but I want you to know that they'll play dirty for us. It's painful, but you have to swallow it all. I'll support you, just decide it with all your heart. - Jerry commented.

-What is the record company willing to give me? - Billy asked, changing the subject. Now everyone wanted to use him, so what would he gain?

...

 

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