Uhe stars, they were gathered around a campfire—a spontaneous night of rest for Billy and the women, marked by dang on the beach, the warmth of the fire, and the expansive sky above. It was a shame that, in such a paradise filled with life, the stars were hidden from view—this ce meant to be enjoyed.
-Who invited us here?- Billy asked, taking in the beautiful details of the party.
-It was Isabelle, a French ty. He has extensive vineyards here and owns others spread across Frand Italy, as well as a lovely vil in Livorno. Perhaps we’ll go there for a few days, -Alessandra replied.
Billy nodded fidently, watg Alessandra approach him. To him, she embodied the allure of romance.
-I’m leaving fnd tomorrow—e with me for two days before, -he murmured, kissing her neck. The whispered words tickled her ear, igniting a spark between them. She bit her lip, captivated by his pyful iy, enjoying both the passion and the feeling of being the ter of attention—a decision was f within her.
-I ’t, though I’d love to. We have a meeting in L.A.; as much as I’d be thrilled to be with you, it’s impossible to break my work itments,- Alessandra whispered back, meeting his eyes, hoping he uood that their bond was close and deeply cherished.
-Whehe runway end?- Billy asked.
-Oh, and then we have a lingerie showcase through July 2,- Alessandra replied.
-e with me then; it would be the perfect ce for us to be together,- Billy suggested. Alessandra’s clear eyes reflected hesitation, her gaze l as doubt crossed her mind. Nervous about what y ahead and what it all meant, she tried to form an answer but stopped herself, looking away, trating. By now, only four people remained: Kurkova, Adriana Lima, Isabelle, and Alessandra, part of a familiar circle of “angels.” She was dividiime between the U.S. and these two groups, partially separated by their plexities.
-I don’t want to go to Engnd, but we could meet in Brazil in August or maybe at the end of November. There’s Formu 1 and sunrise parties, and if we make time, the beach is the perfect spot,- Alessandra suggested.
-I have to shoot, but there's… oh, never mind. Let’s meet when time allows; I don’t know what’s ahead,- Billy said, kissing her lips before walking over to a young man sitting on the sand. After exging some whispered words, the young man handed him a guitar. Kei, the young man, seemed to find peace through music, a way to unlock his spirit.
-Are you going to sing?- Adriana asked.
-A little. Our singing might be all we need, - Billy said, sitting down beside Alessandra. He gently pulled her to sit between his legs. - Don’t make them wait; they all want to hear us sing a bit, -he murmured. She closed her eyes, slightly annoyed but settling fortably against him, her head on his shoulder.
A slight blush crept onto her cheeks.
-‘I’m Yours’ (Jason Mraz), - he whispered to Alessandra, so only she could hear.
People gathered closer, eager to hear each word, each verse. They were expet, reizing the power in lyrid music—a force capable ing love, sadness, and hope. The emotions carried in music took root, like seeds that blossom into memories rich with feeling and significe.
He plucked a few gees, arranging each measure with care to reach the hearts of those around him. His singing was a vibrant, resonant on that filled the air.
-In case anyone is w, I wrote this song about five months ago,- Billy said, strumming the guitar.
...
?????
Well, you done, done me in, you bet I felt itI tried to be chill, but you're so hot that I meltedI fell right through the craow I'm trying to get back
Before the cool done run out, I'll be givin' it my bestestAnd nothing's gonna stop me but divierventionI re it's again my turnTo win some or learn some
But I won't hesitate no more, no moreIt ot wait, I'm yours
?????
Imprinted in the desire to find a pce to stay, a home, or simply a space to feel at ease, were the pces people seek. It captured the humao ect with the earth, memories of vacations, the m sunlight, the refreshing rain, and the light warmth of the early sun—recalling two people made to love each other.
The curve of a woman lying naked on the bed, each of them gazing into each other’s eyes, feeling their closeness as their firailed over each other. Billy touched his lently, sav that superstitious m moment, so trary to what should be, so precious in its simplicity.
Their love—Alessandra bit Billy’s shoulder, her hair falling across him. The sensation owerful, almost fatal.
...
?????
Well, open up your mind and see like meOpen up your pns and, damn, you're freeLook into your heart, and you'll find love, love, love, loveListen to the music of the moment people dand singWe're just one big familyAnd it's odforsaken right to be loved, loved, loved, loved, loved
So I won't hesitate no more, no moreIt ot wait, I'm sureThere's o plicate,
our time is shortThis is our fate, I'm yours
Do, do, do, do youBut do you, do you, do, doBut do you want to e on?Scoo over closer, dearAnd I will nibble your ear
?????
Among the voices in the world, Billy stood out, carrying a unique appeal that led others to dream. Some swayed along with the music, while others closed their eyes to fully take in the song, a mischievous way of embrag the power of music.
-He’s the best singer in the world,- ented a woman in the crowd. More people had gathered, watg the performah awe.
?????
I've been spending way too long cheg my tongue in the mirrorAnd bending over backwards just to try to see it clearerBut my breath fogged up the gssAnd so I drew a new fad I ughed
I guess what I'll be saying is there ain't er reasonTo rid yourself of vanities and just go with the seasonsIt's what we aim to doOur name is our virtue
But I won't hesitate no more, no moreIt ot wait, I'm yours
?????
...
A good song reflects the message it carries, a blend of words and melodies w in harmony. But Billy believes words have a soul, and that soul carries the essence of the song to others. When a song has a soul, it reaches people, toug them profoundly.
If you respond to the audience, regardless of who they are, that is the artist's victory. A song bees a love letter not only to one person but to everyone listening. It’s a gift, a moment of shared happiness, of fluttering eyelids filled with joy. A song is a way to celebrate what made us happy, and shared with others—a moment that catches listeners off-guard, romanti its st his romance be a letter of triumph, love, longing, beginning or eending just a bit further. And as it fades, it leaves each person with a memory that resonates with life and e.
?????
Open up your mind and see like meOpen up your pns and, damn, you're freeLook into your heart, and you'll find that the sky is yours
So please don't, please don't, please don'tThere's o plicate'Cause our time is shortThis, oh, this, oh, this is our fate
?????I'm yours
Oh, I'm yoursOh, I'm yoursOh, whoa-ohBaby, do believe I'm yoursYou best believe, you best believe I'm yours
?????
...
Billy paused, looking at his listeners, feeling their anticipation.
-For now, that’s all I’ll sing… unless a beautiful woman requests another song, - Billy joked.
Alessandra held her emotions in check, yet something in her felt unsteady. She wasn’t sure what exactly stirred her, but it led her to sing along, a thread that had slowly woven itself into her heart. She fell silent, the gathering ending with a bittersweet note lingering in the air, leaving her with a sense of loss. For Billy, it was just a visible moment, but for others, it marked a ge—a dream e to life.
...