june 15.

  The streets were filled with the sensation of rap music. Rap was like dynamite exploding in houses, parks, hangouts, and dens. It became an important space for everyone sihe 90s when rappers began to carve out their p music. Rap tends to be found iain cities, and more than a musical ge's a way to criticize, to give a voi defense of freedom, equality, and personal expression for those who often stitute an unfortable side of social hierarchy.

  From the dance, with colorful breakdang, to the ema with its well-known movies textualizing the genre, culture, and sports, NBA pyers being part of this music se, it only gees the desire to move one's arm in the air and crash it with their passive-aggressive style.

  Billy found an old friend in prison, Austin, someone who had introduced him to Arizona with his activities, immersing him in the ter of a bustling se. Austin, who acrobatically, from the shadows, in a prison where he had no power and gangs segregated him for his attempts to gain trol, preferred to step aside.

  The special thing.

  He met Billy again, very cheerful, sitting, singing a rap song titled "Lose Yourself" to a group of 30 people. Out of curiosity, Austin found Billy very good at singing; the powerful lyrics of his song gave all they o know. Billy could pete against bck rappers, which didn't gee a fight or struggle, just more friendship, as his lyrics were good.

  From the er of the yard, a little withdrawn, Billy, who had just pyed a basketball game, sang in front of the group with all his strength. It was like ahquake that even enced him. It was a song of personal overing. But the glimpse of a trailer without wheels, an absent mother leaving mai in the microwave, his younger brother running barefoot among the other trailers and then ing back happily with some i, both turning on the radio and listening to rap — the music Billy brought was out of this world.

  You better lose, yourself in the musicThe moment, you own it, you better never let it goYou only get one shot, do not miss your ce to blowThis opportunity es on a lifetime, yo

  You better lose, yourself in the musicThe moment, you own it, you better never let it goYou only get one shot, do not miss your ce to blowThis opportunity es on a lifetime, yo

  You better

  Already, many kids could be seen nodding their heads and g their hands in respect for Billy, who began singierday, surprising the entire park. Even the elders were starting to respect Billy. Some said that even the guards were smiling watg Billy sing with the power of ten men.

  Some members of angs, who had some beef with the S-45, heard something new. Since radios were prohibited, music was sensational, especially when provided by someone delivering a song with such power and dedication. Austin, seeing his home, another saark with ramps, skateb, ughing, tumbling on the ramps, struggling, rejoig, g, and reg.

  Names, I'ma ge what you call rageTear this motherfu' roof off like two dogs cagedI yin' in the beginnin', the mood all gedI've been chewed up and spit out and booed off-stageBut I kept rhymin' and stepped right into the cipherBest believe somebody's payin' the Pied Piper

  What made Billy transport them to another world? It was the power of his system, which was charismati its own. Billy set his motivation; his song was directed at two things: moving forward as a musi, transting into fulfilling his dreams, and sedly, saying that even trash has its pce, that it be assembled, and turned into somethiiful. Thus, everyone saw something that they thought could take them beyond a simple life as employees in some store. It was a story told with dreams.

  Stay in one spot, another day of monotonyGotteo the point where I'm like a snail, I've gotTo formute a plot or end up in jail or shotSuccess is my only motherfu' option, failure's notMom, I love you, but this trailer's got to goI ot grow old in Salem's LotSo here I go, it's my shot, feet, fail me notThis may be the only opportunity that I got

  The song tinued with force; Billy didn't sck off. But singing with his soul was a very heavy physical activity, a marathon that o be plemented with exercise. That's why he began dedig himself t out; having a strong physical state was synonymous with singing more songs. He could sing, but only when he gave his all did he feel satisfied.

  Sweat drops trickled down Billy, who was in a total trahe young ones listened in silence, as if the Vienna Choir had taken a tour through the Arizona correal facilities. The power of the boy to shake a few was outstanding.

  Finished!

  -Thanks, everyone, - said Billy, giving a crooked smile and adjusting his bangs, which grew longer every day.

  -Damn, brother, - said Sam.

  -No kidding. ahat shit to a record bel; you've got talent, bro, - said Johnny.

  -When Fred said you were a singing genius, I thought, you know, they sing well. But now I see it; you're the fug king of the stage, - said Sam.

  Billy just smiled and y down in the middle of the court. His audience of 60 people couldn't help but admire Billy, like everyone around him. Notifications of having 70 new fans were music to his ears; if he could wihese bastards, he could do it with anyone.

  -I've already approached a record bel, but, as you see, I'm trapped. Now I just practice to go out and give certs, you know, buy myself a Ferrari and take four models, one on each leg, rag at over 120 miles per hour while the cops chase me. You know, fug assholes, when they catch me, they'll only ask for my autograph and that of my panion, who's a long-legged model walking the runways. They'll say, 'I'm sorry, sir! Sir, give me your autograph!' They'll lick my boots or I'll drive away, - said Billy.

  Sam smiled.

  -Where do I fit into all of this? - Sam asked.

  -Sam, buddy, didn't you hear about a car full of naked models? You be irunk, - said Billy, grinning at the group.

  The ent elicited ughter from some, imagining Sam irunk; even Austin ughed at the ent.

  Billy read the room.

  -Seriously, I'd invite you guys. But no knives, Sam; we don't want to scare off the future hotties, - said Billy.

  Once again, earning smiles from everyone.

  -Hahaha, that would be awesome; I'd be your bodyguard. With me by your side, no one would touch you. The neighborhood couldn't do anything but move aside and say, 'Wow, let's ge sides,' - said Sam, and Fred nodded.

  -Of course, but you have to do military service to be allowed to carry ons. If yoing to defend me, you have to be a bat genius. I'll be so famous that I'll need Rambo. Well, I have to go lift some weights; see you guys ter, - said Billy.

  The crowd began to disperse as Billy walked to the weights with renewed vigor and vitality; singing was like a cure for the soul. He was getting used to exerg; there was no differeween man a—put them to live in a pce, and everything would be as if they had always been there. Without a doubt, this enviro filled him with a sinister desire to excel. He reached Level 4 of singing, the level of semi-professionals.

  The improvement was evident to him; he could sing for longer, infuse more emotions, and miss fewer notes. It was a new resurgence. Billy Carson wasn't defeated; he was burning with anger, for all he could do. His exteime of a year seemed happy, but he had had certain moments of panid bad feelings didn't escape his mind.

  With a strong effort, he pleted the four sets of twenty, without rest, lifting the weight until his arms burned.

  With a soft sigh, he tinued with the rest of the work, exerting himself in every way he could.

  ...