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superstar: sings for everybody

this is another novel, I started writing months ago, it is inspired by a Chinese music fic and the Pixar movie Soul (one of my favorites) here I will put the music I like, and I will write a story about a Billy Carson, who was born late, ten years late, now music is his way of life. singing will inspire people because he has the system of a superstar. I hope that everyone will be inspired and create a series through their efforts, we just need to encourage each other to write, I hope that you enjoy it, I am happy to write, that the series is for you all. this is fiction and is an imaginatión series.

rollo1019to · 音乐组合
分數不夠
123 Chs

Arizona.

The conversation between Agustina and Jerry Wrexler didn't end with the simple search to sign a contract. The old man patiently waited for Agustina to speak with the lawyer friend she had, a chubby, white man, very different from what one might expect of Agustina, a friend of her late husband. A man who unfortunately passed away, who was the backbone of the household.

-Thomas passed away six years ago, - Matheus Morrigan said, watching Agustina. - Since then, her life has turned upside down. Even though Thomas had medical insurance, the bills piled up to the point where it became very difficult for Agustina to pay all the medical expenses. They sold the house; the estate wasn't friendly. The poor woman has been working everywhere to sustain her and her son's lives. She's a very caring woman, Mr. Jerry,- the lawyer said.

-I understand, and my contract is more than generous. I negotiated it myself with the boss. Believe me, Mr. Morrigan, when you hear Agustina's son sing, you won't regret my words. The boy is excellent, - Jerry said.

-He's quite good, although I'm unfamiliar with the industry, I don't see any malice in the contract. The boy's profits are high for a mere novice; I expected something stricter. What do you gain from this? - Morrigan asked, taking a sip of his beer.

The beers scattered on the table were a tale of sorts. Spencer was drunk, sleeping on his hand after two pints of beer, while Jerry was on his third. Age dulled his senses, but Matheus was a true drinker, an avid drinker, on his fifth pint in an hour.

-I see what I see when I see him, - Jerry said.

-A businessman, - Matheus replied.

Jerry just nodded.

-You think highly of me, Mr. Matheus, although I must say, not even alcohol removes the decency inherent in lawyers. I am a purposeless old man, but seeing the boy sing gives me purpose. I don't need money anymore, and I tire of saying it, but as his representative, I'll take seven percent of his earnings. I'll be a multimillionaire with decent care of the child. Let's guide him to leave behind those bad habits he's picked up. He's rebellious and talented, but we need to channel his rebellion, which is why his mother is so important, - Jerry said.

Agustina tried to overhear the conversation, pacing recurrently among the tables. But she couldn't catch much; she was anxious, hoping to see a glimmer of hope, a sign from God that He hadn't forgotten her in her time of need.

Matheus beckoned her over, and Agustina clenched the tray against her chest. Though strong, she was now a very naive woman, but fortunately, this time nothing happened that would harm her in the future.

She signed the documents and smiled.

-Well, now I'd like to get back to work. My phone number, - she said, jotting it down below her signature. -- You said you'd get Billy out of the correctional facility. I want that to happen; my boy can't continue in that degrading environment. He's been beaten numerous times, and it's unfair for this to happen to my child. -

-Before we leave, could you bring us the bill? And I'd like to propose a job, Mrs. Agustina. Better paid than these handouts, - Jerry said.

-Very well, you'll have five minutes, - Agustina said, rushing for the bill.

To Matheus's consternation, Jerry Wexler pulled out the third contract of the night, handing it to Mr. Matheus, an Assistant contract, an assistant for his son. It involved taking care of meals, looking after the boy, and providing counsel and assistance. A contract to be a mother, Matheus thought, finishing his beer, surprised by the old man's expertise; paying the mother to care for him would earn goodwill, and there was no one better to take care of Billy.

****************************************************************************

A week later.

Billy received a visit.

-Carson, you have a visitor, - the security guard said.

Weekends were chosen for long visits. Although visits could happen any day, weekends allowed for longer stays. Billy adjusted his uniform; he was engaged in sports. Diligently, he exercised in the morning to improve his physical condition—a habit he adopted after realizing that better physical health enhanced his singing ability. However, he felt his progress plateauing; what once seemed effortless now felt challenging.

The sight surprised him; there was his mother, as beautiful as ever. He felt warmth in his heart upon seeing her, like heaven in hell. His mother was a beacon of genuine connection in his life—a source of laughter, comfort, and motivation.

-Mama, - Billy said, approaching her with a hint of shyness. He didn't want the other boys to see him embracing his mom, although the thought felt silly. He hugged her, almost feeling like crying against her chest, feeling the warmth enveloping him, a sense of strength he hadn't felt in a long time, inexplicably renewing his vigor.

-What are you doing in Arizona, Mama? - Billy asked.

-I moved to Arizona. For now, I live here. I got a part-time job as a secretary at a company. I'm staying at a motel, but I want to visit you every day, - Agustina said.

Billy's mother was a very good woman.

-You didn't have to, - Billy said.

-You don't tell me what to do, young man. Your mama is an adult woman who decides what she wants to do. It's always good to change the scenery. Besides, don't worry, I have support. I'll take you to see him, - Agustina said mysteriously.

-You'll take me to see him? - Billy said, almost incredulously.

-Yes, but let's eat first, - Agustina said, unveiling a tray of food—chorizo burgers, fries, lemon juice, and dulce de leche. Everything a child could ask for.

-You made so much, - Billy said.

-You're growing up, and besides, I brought some to give to the security guards, but they're grumpier than those at the previous correctional facility. I even thought they might inspect the food. I can't believe the prison's lack of trust. I only have one option now—to give some to your friends. You have friends, right? - Agustina asked.

-A gang, - Billy said.

Agustina's happiness evaporated in an instant. - Forget it. Don't tell me anymore. I don't want to ruin the day. -

-A gang! Is it just a term the kids use, or is Billy following the wrong path that led him to the Correctional? Could they have threatened him to join the gang? - Agustina thought, her face contorting into a series of expressions, tapping her chin with her fingers.

-Call your friends, bring them; I'll set the table, - Agustina said, standing up to arrange the metal tables. She saw two giant guards trying to say something to the petite woman, who just smiled at them.

-What's wrong, Billy? Hurry, bring them, - Agustina said, following the two men.

Billy tried to make one thing clear. He walked to the basketball court and called Connor, Sam, Fred, Jimmy, and Joseph. He had to tell them it was something good; they'd accompany him for a while, and then they could go about their usual activities—hanging out in the stands, playing basketball, or causing a ruckus over some trivial issue.

-What's the mystery, Billy? - Sam asked.

-Nothing, my mom arrived, and she said to invite you guys to eat. She brought food; she loves cooking for others; it's one of her favorite pastimes, - Billy said.

-Food? What nonsense, - Jimmy said, the most outspoken alongside Sam, both being the troublemakers of the group.

-You can leave me your portion, Jimmy, - Fred said, the troll.

-You wish, big guy! - Jimmy replied.

As they walked to the visitor area, Billy was the only one among the three boys who received visitors. Joseph's father was a military man who visited only to express his disappointment every four months, scolding him repeatedly for his criminal behavior.

The tables were set close together, with a guard assisting Agustina with the arrangements. It wasn't her power of persuasion; it was just that very few people resisted when someone treated them kindly, and Agustina used kindness to deal with people; she was calm and peaceful, her demeanor alone minimizing issues.

There were napkins in front of each table. Agustina greeted each boy with a hug, even the reserved Connor, who didn't know how to react.

-I thought, why not get to know Billy's friends? - Agustina said aloud, pulling out the stacked burgers. There were twelve of them, and the boys' eyes widened like lions, big and yellow, smelling the delicious aroma. But that was to be expected. There was a pitcher of juice, disposable cups, and fries served on napkins—each boy stopped talking for the next ten minutes, eating heartily, which pleased the mother, who only sampled some fries at her station.

-You can eat more; help yourselves to another one, - Agustina said to Fred, who nodded, taking a bite of another burger. They were so delicious that Billy sighed, feeling like he missed out on such food for so long.

-Wow, ma'am. I haven't eaten anything this delicious since I robbed that fancy restaurant, - Sam said.

Billy wanted to slam him against the table, but in front of his mother, Sam was just being stupid.

-Stealing is not right. Although I usually do it before eating, we have to say a prayer to thank God for the food He's provided, - Agustina said, making the boys uneasy.

-The little thief will say thank you today. Come on, you can do it, - Agustina said.

Sam agreed, feeling nervous under their gaze. - Lord, I thank you for the burgers; the pork is delicious. I mean, they were as good as those from the corner near my house. Thank you, Lord, for giving us something tasty to eat, - Sam said.

...

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

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