The two boys bid farewell to the musistitute. The police officer drove them back to the correal facility; it was half past four iernoon. The rip would be long, but both Billy and or fell asleep during the entire journey, and only the sun's groans and the proximity to their destination woke them.

  "It was a good day, boys," said Spencer cheerfully, pleased with what they had aplished. It was a job in progress for renowned brands, but for a couple of novices in the musidustry, it was more than well-deserved. Speepped out of the patrol car, heading to his car to rest at home after the long day of work. In his mind, he dreamed like a little child about being a member of Billy's band.

  "A troublemaker," thought Spencer. Saying it aloud would be a joke, as Professor Spencer wouldn't break a rule, not even by mistake. His uping moments would involve him and his grandmother, eating oatmeal.

  or nodded calmly and headed to his room without apparent fatigue.

  "Thanks, teacher," said Billy, totally asleep, not realizing that Spencer had already left. In his exhaustion, his instincts were rexed, and he fell asleep as soon as he touched the pillow in the world of dreams. Three cheerful shadows watched the sleeping young man; they even shook him, but Billy didn't respond.

  Once again, the dream fragmented, and the gray figure of his "home" came into view for another week. Another week falls into the daily routine of music, struggles, and the disfort i iypes of institutions.

  Before leaving, sky decided to immortalize the moment with three photos. In one of them, Billy and or leaned against a wall, their heads hitting the wall, totally sweaty, talking about something. The image was taken from the front. The one was of Billy singing in the musi, his eyes closed.

  "He's fallen asleep," said the boy.

  "Let's do this quickly before the guard shows up," whispered one of the shadows in the darkness.

  "Wait... first, let's stash the evidender the bed," said the boy, pulling out a package, white with what seemed to be green powder.

  The kids couldn't help but ugh; some with their eyes open watched them in the darkness. Their gazes were fixed ohree kids incriminating Billy, but everyo quiet. After all, Carson is a snitch. Some closed their eyes again, but the children's ughter became louder.

  "What are you doing?" shouted a guard.

  The children ran back to their beds; everyone fell silent. The guard's fshlight partially illumihe room, but it seemed like everyone was in their beds. Nearly three seds after the guard left, some muffled ughter was heard.

  Twin Towers Correal Facility was Superinte Charles's realm; security guard James Johnson acted without hesitation and took several pieces of evideo the administrative departments.

  The m arrived, and Billy felt his bed was wet, smelling of urine. He cursed inwardly; no one would leave him alone, and this routine would tiil he got out of this hole called prison. How sad, he thought, seeing how some just ignored his situation, and hed—the great superstar who wets the bed—what a humorous headline.

  Billy got up from his seat, luckily only the bs were wet with urine, and the mattress and bedspread remained dry. His pajamas, oher hand, were slightly damp, and he could only curse. At no point did he think to cheder his bed ahe impnted bag.

  Monday started like a pun the face, thought Billy.

  Billy quickly took his clothes to the undry, receiving some gnces here and there. Only a few khe situation, but the masses were fetful and vengeful.

  "Carson, be careful not to pee in the undry," shouted a dark-skinned boy, driving humiliation into his face. Even the guards watg him thought he had itted the act. Fortunately, the undry was empty; some sheets were lying around that he could use as repts.

  "Bdder issues, kid," said an old janitor they called Bones.

  "A joke, Bohose bastards peed on my bed," said Billy.

  "Uhhh, you're in trouble then, kid. You better get used to taking hits because they're ing," said Bones.

  "What do you mean?" questioned Billy.

  "You know what I mean. e, throw that in the washer. I've got another overall by that door; you use the ohat fits you best, although I'd prefer you not to use one, but there's nothing more to be done. Keep your eyes open a out; I've got work to do," said Bones.

  Taking a deep breath, he performed the tasks as quickly as possible. He didn't want to be te for the m shower, and there might be some rouble if he wasn't careful. He quied his pace; he o cross the area from the undry to his quarters and then prepare and anize everything for a shower. The guards only pressured during the first hour, and theteo other pces like the cafeteria, hallways, and musis.

  The showers were empty, but the ess bred uainty, even more tha was filled with shouts, ughter, jokes, and the howls of a few people. He bathed very carefully, fag the wall, terrified of a sudden attack. His clothes were hanging over the shower, so he wasn't afraid of a nudity situation, but a quick attack ossible. He ed himself with the same fear that gripped his heart.

  "Fuhr," sighed Billy when he saw that nothing bad had happened.

  He ged with his body still somewhat damp and ran to the dining hall, pushing his fear to the bottom of his heart. He hated livied, poi, and judged, but that's what he had been receiving in the past few days, and now the situation seemed to have escated. Even his previous friend Pablo ughed at him, just as his jokes were heard by Billy, and how he pointed him out.

  "You have to endure," said or, sittio him. Bck circles marked his face; he used to sleep in css, uned, pg his hand on Billy's shoulder in a supportive gesture. He wasn't good with words.

  "Yeah," said Billy, reposing himself in the sight of the fourteen-year-old boy, brown-haired, somewhere between brown and golden. Strength, a young man was teag him about strength, although not much older, he uood the situation with a gnd brushed it aside.

  "They'll py dirty, but that's life, people aly dirty," said or.

  "It's plicated, or, but I'll do my best," said Billy, calming his demeanor.

  "Superstars don't care about other people's words," Billy told himself throughout the day. He endured numerous taunts, jeers, and derogatory ents. He ed the third-floor hallracticed piano and music tirelessly with or, and tried to talk to the guard James Johnson, the old Ameri who had a lot to say but gave away little.

  "e o's practice with more enthusiasm. Good news will e soon," said Spencer.

  or's drums had a fast-paced rhythm as he worked on the adjustments for "Like a Stone." Billy tinued practig piano and singing, now doing both at the same time, a challengi when your fingers don't respond to the signal and when you're pitg a note.

  "Master, I've got the song; it's just that I 't py and sing it at the same time," said Billy.

  Spenodded. "Py it until you know it by heart," said the stout man.

  ...