warnings.
-Man, sorry, but I was pretty drunk. Those damn casino guys kept serving me sweet champagne. After less than five glasses, I lost track and just went all out to have fun, - Billy said, dismissing the two women who giggled and left, each with numerous $100 bills stuffed into their stockings that Billy had handed over as a parting gift, though somewhat aggressively, they just laughed, knowing the audacity of the boy.
-Sure, - Jerry replied softly. - You think I haven't noticed your secret thing with Mrs. Stefani? You judge me and take me for a fool. These things only breed misunderstandings, bad reputations, and unnecessary trouble. You should act based on reason. Emotions won't lead you down any worthy path. A man must stand on his own, and be rational—it's part of behaving, especially for someone like you, a star, someone who represents the future of American society. -
-Yeah, I've heard that story before, and I'm sorry, but Gwen has been clear. She just needs someone to love her. Her husband's good, but he's not what she wants. Everything's under control. I'll handle PR differently, find a woman who'll be beneficial for my career, - Billy commented, remembering Jerry's lesson about handling women cautiously. The thing is, women have been the downfall of many great musicians. It's better to focus on starting a family when he's older. For now, his time should be spent choosing matches among the stars. Love in the industry is overrated.
-A good woman falls into excess, conspiracies, traps, and all sorts of twisted games. Even Billy knows that the women in his bed could be journalists working for some rich uncle who wants money. The world is completely corrupt in some respects. -
-Ah, you're going to hate me for this... but we need to talk about something uncomfortable, - Jerry said, considering how to broach the subject of a practice known as 'pay for play.'
'Pay for play' is the payment made to superstars of any entity to boost their careers, whether through sponsorships from globally famous brands, contracts, or new opportunities, all for the benefit of flesh. For some time now, tycoons, daughters, and even women have decided to engage in this practice for the famous, and knowing Billy's carefree attitude towards things, the contract was quick, but these arrangements often come with unpleasant strings attached.
-Look, we've been hired for a private, individual party. Your fee is $7 million, - Jerry said.
Billy raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised by the amount. The value of this deal far exceeded all the payments he'd received, incredulously, even from sponsorships like Vans, which only amounted to five million. Of course, there were additional perks, but he had to fulfill obligations over a year with different companies, like interviews, events, appearances, and brand usage.
-Seven million for five hours, tax-free, - Billy muttered to himself, almost to the air. - The rich sure know how to spend money in unpredictable ways. -
That sounds right. We'll take it. It's good money, and it can be used when you need it most, - Billy commented, getting organized and preparing for a shower. Jerry approached and pulled him aside.
-Just be careful. You'll get a lot of offers. It's almost known as the red sofa. Just be careful, kid, - Jerry said.
-Ah, but that's the least of my worries. I'll handle it. I'm more concerned about how I feel Warner's playing dirty with this Harry Potter thing, - Billy said, stepping into the bathroom. Jerry wanted to laugh at his protégé's words, realizing he was learning the ropes of business and negotiations—if only he weren't so emotional.
***
The life of a female music star is burdened with a symbol different from that of a man. She lives under the assumption of being an icon, not an icon of rebellion or roughness, but rather what the public desires: beauty in its place, sensual gestures, and tenderness in her performances... It makes you want to vomit sometimes! That's why Gwen Stefanie has two distinct paths in mind to associate with her life: one at home and the other in her career. At home, Gwen prefers nothing more than sunbathing, reading some books, and eating whatever she pleases.
However, the other path predominates, where every day she must bathe with lotions to smell particularly good, perfume herself, get dressed up, and coordinate even the way she walks. It's a repression that works against women. She's had relationships with many women in the industry, and all explain that the standards are high. When a woman skips a day without bathing, people say she smells bad or hasn't bathed for weeks. It's the opposite; a different level of cleanliness is expected.
She walks the streets followed by a string of paparazzi. Whenever she enters a store, they prostrate themselves to take photos. Her latest concert caused this, but she couldn't deny they were useful when used to discern. Gwen has a double, someone who poses as her while she goes shopping. Wearing sunglasses, and a scarf, and accompanied by an entourage, she avoids people finding out. It's all about appearances.
-So you used your double to stay home and sleep, - sighed one of her closest friends, Eve Jihan Jeffers, a rapper and singer who collaborated with Gwen on two recent albums, both with the group and as a solo artist.
-Yes, I'm exhausted, - Gwen replied.
-Are your legs sore, swollen abdomen, nasal congestion? - Eve asked, taking account. - Are you pregnant? Congratulations. Marriage must be a good symbol, - Eve commented.
'What! She must have Billy's child. When they were together a week before the Grammys, that means she's a month along and hasn't slept with her husband,' Gwen thought. A cold idea crossed her mind, and the discomfort continued, giving her a slight inkling of how to handle it. She could use the excuse that when she got home, her husband was high and they tried, but he fell asleep before. She didn't think he'd believe her.
Damn, Billy!
Seeing the panicked look, she never thought about who the father was. It was logical. A successful woman at the peak of her career needs something else.
...