superstar: sings for everybody

June 27, 2004.

Not long ago, Billy began recording various albums, including songs in Spanish, filled with character and traces of bravery and mastery. One of the marvels of rock is that profound sense of doubt—the madness of doubt that makes shame and sweat pour into the songs.

-I guess you got here early. Want to eat something? I'm starving. I'd like some meat, but you're better off with vegetables. I can whip up one of those good stir-fried salads for you. – Billy said, looking at Merche, who had a stunning demeanor. She wore a sleeveless shirt, tight against her body, and a miniskirt that accentuated her slim, majestic figure.

-You're a charmer. But I wouldn't ask a musician to prepare me a salad. Let me check what we have ready. – Merche replied sarcastically. She leaned in for a kiss, tongues meeting, both caught in their honeymoon phase. She tried to stop him, but Billy grabbed her thighs, lifting her with ease and setting her on a railing as he kissed her fiercely.

-We need to cook. Stop acting like this. – Merche said, trying to respond to his passionate kisses, both deep and fleeting, that filled her mouth.

-Acting like what? I don't see anything wrong with not resisting. My kisses are worth more than any meal, and you enjoy them. How can you deny me so indifferently? – Billy said, gently tracing her cheek. To him, Merche was a vision of beauty—lively eyes brimming with innocence, vibrant hair, and those legs that inspired every kind of romance.

-You'll be complaining in bed later about being hungry! Look, Mrs. Greenwood always leaves you extra food. It's curious to see you alone; usually, you're surrounded by people. – Merche whispered, opening the fridge stocked with neatly arranged dishes: twelve bottles of milk, various fruits, orange juice, cheeses, ham, sausages, eggs, vegetables, and the top shelf filled with meats—bacon, chicken, fish, and all sorts of proteins. Among them were some chorizos, not the Argentine kind Billy preferred but a local variety Barbara grilled with rich chimichurri sauces.

-You look so sexy cooking. – Billy remarked, watching Merche at work. – I think all you need to cook is an apron, something that covers less and shows off your curves. –

He moved closer as she whisked eggs, diced onions, and tomatoes, and added milk, salt, pepper, and cilantro. She dipped bread in the egg mixture and prepared tortillas, uncovering a container of fried meat cooked in butter after being lightly oiled.

Another container held salads, which she drizzled with soy sauce for extra flair. He slid her underwear down and started kissing her, but she shifted away, muttering curses about inappropriate timing. He held the garment to his face, inhaling its sweet, spicy scent, grinning mischievously.

-Stop doing that. – Merche said, resisting Billy's advances, though tempted.

-Go pour some juice. – she said.

-Yes, ma'am. –

-Tomorrow's the second tattoo session. They might finish the tiger design by then. You've got good stamina; Paul usually doesn't like newbies who can't handle the pain. But he knows tattooing you will make him famous—it comes withae title, like being called the prince of rock. – Merche said. She wanted to mention the so-called princess who seemed close to Billy but stayed silent, hiding her growing feelings for him. She buried her emotions, knowing rejection might come, perhaps one day never to return to London.

-We made a bet to last more than seven hours. I endured nine and won. That means I've earned another tattoo for free, saved for another time. Any suggestions? – Billy asked, drinking straight from the orange juice lid. Merche grimaced in disgust at the sight.

-Don't you dare serve me that juice. – she said, shaking her head.

-It's just a bit of spit. Your mouth's tasted worse things... – he teased, dodging a flying fork. She shooed him out of the kitchen, and he decided to work out while waiting for dinner. His desire for Merche was overwhelming the moment she arrived.

The dining area had a small table for six, leading to a living room with black-and-white sofas and a massive flat-screen TV—a luxury for the time. The note from Mrs. Greenwood was direct: I'll be back tomorrow morning. Don't make a mess, don't eat in your room, and leave dirty laundry in the basket.

He straightened up as much as he could, thinking about the laundry in the bathroom. He removed his shirt and did some push-ups to pass the time. Facing the mirror, he admired his reflection, capturing the moment without color or shades.

-You should thank me for the delicious meal I've prepared. – Merche said, hungry for more than food.

-I already do... I once heard people love doing things for others, especially if they're good people. Let me sing you a love story, one that's ours. It might belong to many others who listen to my songs, but for a moment, it's just for us. – Billy said, kissing her hands. They carried the faint scent of vinegar from washing the meat, lingering on his fingers.

His intense eyes, filled with depth, framed his romantic words. Don't fall in love, he whispered to himself.

Billy's song was perfect, creating a moment of complicity. Merche had prepared a dish her father had taught her long ago. How could anyone resist someone like him? Sometimes things were difficult, even uncomfortable.

-Why the tiger? – Merche finally asked during dinner.

-I like tigers. If I could be an animal, I'd be a tiger—the powerful, solitary feline of the mountains. Its stripes are like brushstrokes, telling a story of strength. Lions have manes that get in the way. Tigers stand-alone, abandoned yet majestic. – Billy murmured, preparing his voice.

He softly sang Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, transforming it into a slow, intimate melody that accompanied the silence between them.

Merche couldn't resist him anymore. She nestled into his chest, overwhelmed by butterflies in her stomach and the way her heart raced from her neck to her ribs, hammering down her spine. She was falling, deeply, hopelessly in love.

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

We'll do it all

Everything

On our own

We don't need

Anything

Or anyone

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

The things that fill a place, the lyrics were powerful, asking only for company, without money, or alterations, people in the middle, a unique moment that does not fill.

'I sing it with Leighton, but I fail with Avril, the charming goth who liked jazz, and love ballads dies for love ballads'

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

I don't quite know

How to say

How I feel

Those three words

Are said too much

They're not enough

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

How dark are the days when two people get together and can't be together, like Billy's poem, seeks to lull its companions, it seeks only a way to respond, Billy's songs are about how people touch each other, the heart, it feels part, and it is his success, to be able to give it life.

In a hypothetical, in a volume of life, the song was accompanied by soft chants.

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

Forget what we're told.

Before we get too old

Show me a garden that's bursting into life

Let's waste time

Chasing cars

Around our heads

I need your grace

To remind me

To find my own

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

So what could be more romantic thanhowh the parts get to where they need to go, that's where everyone can pick up again.

Uncomfortable and uncertain. Just met, but now they're together sharing the piece of soul, that detailed piece, Billy promoted in his song a fondness, a love between people.

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

Forget what we're told.

Before we get too old

Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am

All that I ever was

Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

I don't know where

Confused about how as well

Just know that these things will never change for us at all

If I layherer

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

🎶🎵🎵🎵🎶🎵🎵🎵

Everything was taken from the acoustics of an a cappella, it was desire, Merche, could not help but kiss him and settle on his chest, she was in love with the way her stomach beat in butterflies or the way her heart pricked up to her neck, and went down to her ribs, hammering her spine.

...