commercials.

July 24.

Without a day's rest, they flew back to New York. The media impact stunned Billy as he saw the crowd waiting for him at the airport. The madness, the screams, the way everyone turned their heads, and how they all seemed destined to clear a path for him. A mere wink could melt the girls approaching him. He committed Jerry's unforgivable sin: kissing all the women who came near him. This gesture was photographed and earned Jerry's ire and Ahmet Ertegun's smile at Billy's audacity.

-We have to go to the magazine meeting; they'll take some photos,- Jerry said. Since his mother had passed away, he hadn't left Billy's side for any activity. They drove across the highway to a small, remote place where the studio was likely located.

-Yes, yes, a quick meeting at that studio on the outskirts of Manhattan, - Billy replied. The magazine had a secluded but owned place for photo shoots. Billy searched among the many locations; he wanted to test his singing skills. It was better to get his songs out as soon as possible. The release was almost as necessary as the money he was earning from commercials and sponsorships of at least $900,000, with tons of clothes at his feet.

He would wear Vans sneakers, which would now be Billy's brand. The commercial was about to launch, and the skateboard campaign was live. Even a skateboard brand sponsored Billy, who would participate as a guest in some competitions. Nothing surprising like the professional skaters, who were wizards with the skateboard, but Billy had the talent to perform. He was average but could do some tricks.

-It'll be simple. I considered many questions from production. You practiced them during the week. Even though I didn't ask you to memorize them, you're more than trained to answer perfectly. I was very insistent with Jessica Pileman, - Jerry said.

-Jessica, I see... Where did you find that lady who acts like my governess? - Billy asked about Mrs. Greenwood, a strict, blonde, gray-haired woman with first-class butler skills.

-Her salary is quite high. Ehmet found her. He's more skilled in these matters and proposed a quick solution so you could live alone, - Jerry replied, walking through the Seventeen magazine hallways. Along with Vans, they would take a series of quick shots on what looked like a skating rink.

-Wow, they invested a lot in this campaign, - Billy whistled, seeing the skate park.

-Not much, just pennies, kid. Be careful with questions about your mother. Stay calm, don't hide your anger at the interviewer, but remain silent. Sometimes a look is better, - Jerry advised, walking ahead, followed by a cameraman named Wally.

-Is this the young trendsetter in America? - Wally said loudly, one hand on his chin, a Nikon camera hanging around his neck. Not far off, three people approached, one of whom Billy recognized as Steve Caballero and Tony Alva, legendary skaters. Billy could only whistle seeing the legends standing before him.

People began to arrive, bringing light equipment, makeup artists, stunt doubles, wardrobe coordinators, and even someone checking the weather while carrying red mats to what looked like an improvised skate ramp with some rails, while others laughed cheerfully.

-It's a pleasure to meet you, - said Tony Alva, a tanned man with a goatee, next to Steve Caballero, the pinnacle of skateboarding with their many rich ventures in the sport.

-Awesome, man, I'm Billy Carson, - Billy said, shaking hands. He was famous, but as Jerry said, he was twice as famous as most people in America. Very few could achieve that.

-Oh, I know who you are, the golden boy of America. Come, let's see how well you handle that board and if it's safe for you to ride or if we need simpler shots, - Tony Alva commented while Steve Caballero talked to Wally about something.

A large Vans banner was there, along with other people in circles and groups, while the director began directing everyone. -Pick the one you like, - Tony said.

Billy grabbed a Blind board with red motifs and a skull in the center. Tony smiled and gestured for him to follow as he placed his board on the ground and took a simple lap around the circuit. Although it didn't seem like it, Billy had the skill to follow closely, navigating the classic S-route around the track.

Without Billy noticing, everyone was in their positions, while Wally watched with bright eyes.

-Let's see if you can jump, - Tony said, performing an Ollie that took him over a small step. Billy followed, but Tony landed with the back of his board lifted, impressing Billy with his jumping skills.

They continued doing jumps and some small grinds on the metal rails, which were more challenging for Billy, causing him to fall off his board a couple of times. However, he managed a few successful attempts, earning a nod from Tony. After thirty minutes of skating, his body ached. The accident had left him out of shape, and his ankle throbbed with pain.

-That was awesome, kid, - Wally commented, camera in hand. Billy saw many from the recording crew aiming their cameras at him, leaving him speechless.

-I thought we were filming in half an hour, - Billy said.

-It was Tony's idea. It's better to film without you noticing. That way, you won't get nervous, - Wally explained.

-I guess that's fine... as long as we're done with the skateboard filming, - Billy replied, realizing his practice was more fruitful than he expected. His ankle started to burn more intensely, still bearable but in need of rest.

-We have some photos to take for Seventeen magazine, then we'll do the interviews in the dressing rooms, - Jerry directed, leading him to the photo set. There were four outfits prepared for the photoshoot.

He took pictures with a sweater, one with the board on his lap, looking to the side, another with a sleeveless shirt, smiling, serious, close-ups, panoramas, profiles—every kind of shot for both the magazine and Vans. In particular, one photo featured him in ripped jeans, red shoes, a white shirt, and a leather jacket, left open as Billy smiled.

-Can you send me the photos to my email? - Billy asked.

Wally looked at Jerry, who nodded. Jerry sat in a chair, his calm and intense presence filling the room, a mere glimpse of his authority.

"Sure, kid, I'll send you some photos," Wally said, shifting topics.

Seventeen magazines would probably use most of the photos, but they could send some after publication. One of Billy's planned methods was to start getting involved in social media.

-The old man's the boss, - Billy said, not paying attention to Wally. Jerry raised a hand resting on his cane, a reassuring presence despite treating him like a child, which didn't bother Billy at all.

-We reviewed the video and need some front shots, - said a fat, gray-haired man in a suit, similar to sports journalists but subtly formal.

Billy grimaced but nodded. -Let's do it. -

He received a small script. The commercial involved taking photos from different angles, showing Billy performing tricks on his skateboard, filmed from fascinating perspectives.

-You need to say the commercial's slogan, 'Vans, the best choice,' - the director said. Wally seemed to be assisting in the direction and leading the photography.

They tried.

They attempted the shot at least ten times until Billy grew tired. He performed an aerial flip with his skateboard, landed on a red mat, looked at the camera, and smiled rebelliously, saying loudly. Jerry broke into a cold sweat at the kid's recklessness. This boy would be the death of him in a literal sense. The doctor was clear: no risky exercise. But what did he do? He played like a madman. Jerry noticed the imperceptible limp and how Billy leaned more on his right foot.

-Dare, because no one else will. Vans, - Billy said, feeling the swelling in his ankle now spread through his entire leg. While the directors tried to quiet the set, they reviewed the sequence, and it was perfect. The young man's naturalness contrasted with his unusual freshness and roughness.

Two more hours of filming followed, during which Billy walked and said a few words with the logo, -Dare because no one else will. - The directors loved it.

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