superstar: sings for everybody

Over the next three days, they practiced all kinds of maneuvers to refine their diving skills. Improving felt like a distant dream—getting used to the water tank was possible, but far from easy. Billy could feel how his skin wrinkled from being submerged for so long.

-I'm turning into a merman. - Billy remarked as he climbed out of the water. The others weren't in better shape, gulping down the air they desperately needed after only breathing through oxygen tubes. Breathing deeply had become a struggle.

-Stop being ridiculous. - Robert Pattinson retorted, dressed in his yellow suit.

-Stop being boring… Your brow is already furrowed. If you keep it up, you'll age faster than you'd like, my friend. And aging—it's such a cruel fate. - Billy teased.

-It seems we'll need to do some filming tomorrow. Your schedule is packed, but honestly, I'm not sure what we're even doing. - The young man with chestnut hair and pale skin, often considered the mysterious heartthrob for keeping his thoughts to himself, said with a slight shrug.

He stood and offered Billy a hand, catching Clemency Poesy's gaze out of the corner of his eye. She was nearby, adjusting her fitted jumpsuit. Her slender frame and proud, lifted chin made her look poised, but her nervous demeanor betrayed her. The way Billy teased her when he caught her looking at him was almost too much. Deliberately, he pulled off his brown shirt, drying his hair with it.

-Stop showing off. -

-Come on, Robert. If you were as gorgeous as I am, you'd show off all the time. - Billy's fiery confidence came across as a playful challenge as he made his way to a small makeshift dressing room. There, he found fresh clothes, ready to change and call it a day. He put on a crisp white shirt, silver earrings, and his nose piercing, feeling the weight of exhaustion in his body.

Stretching his limbs, he felt every ounce of fatigue. Morning workouts, long hours of rehearsal, and relentless effort had taken their toll. Emerging from the cramped dressing area, he noticed the kids chatting about one thing or another. It was unnerving to see the brown-haired girl so anxious, caught in the grip of her fear.

He made his way to the main hall, where the rehearsals were taking place. In another room, scenes featuring Ralph Fiennes and his followers—particularly Peter Pettigrew and Barty Crouch—were being filmed, along with other shots involving the primary cast.

-See you tomorrow. - He told Robert, who nodded in acknowledgment. Tomorrow was another big filming day.

During breaks, they took every opportunity to maximize their time on set. To Billy's surprise, he ran into a few familiar faces: Jonny Greenwood, a guitarist, and Phil Selway, Radiohead's drummer. Also present were Jarvis Cocker from Pulp and Jason Buckle from All Seeing I, though Billy didn't know the latter very well.

-I didn't know you guys would be here. - Billy greeted Jonny and Phil, whom he'd followed for years, admiring their music and career choices. The two embraced him warmly.

-My God, you've grown! The prince of rock himself! - Phil exclaimed.

-Well, I guess we have something in common. We've all been hired for the movie. - Billy replied, glancing at the people nearby with a mix of curiosity and caution.

-They hired you to sing? -

-They couldn't afford me. If they want me to compose and perform, they'd need to pay me at least $5 million or more. I'm not sure how much Warner charges for licenses. - Billy said with a smirk. - But hey, don't worry. It'd be fun to jam together sometime. Your last album was fantastic; it's still inspiring me in so many ways. -

The idea of collaborating sparked some excitement. The confidence with which Billy said, "They couldn't afford me," left everyone slightly stunned.

-I think it'd be great to play together, though I imagine Thom might get a little jealous. - Jonny joked.

-I doubt that. - Billy replied, thinking about the band's dynamics. He could see the others were eager to hear him sing and understand what made him so renowned.

-We're working on a few songs as a team. The music's not fully formed yet, but we have some fantastic composers. Maybe we can collaborate a bit. - Jonny suggested.

-Sure, as long as you let me do a cover of 'Creep.' - Billy quipped, watching Jonny's reaction. I'm just kidding. We can jam when I have some free time. Singing always helps clear my mind. -

-I like that song… but I don't like it. - Jonny admitted, noting Billy's practiced demeanor, honed since his youth. His rebellious streak had only grown stronger with age. The song was Thom's Baby, written with fervor alongside Albert Hammond.

-Thom's got a complicated relationship with it. But what if we adjusted the scales and added a raspier voice? - Billy mused.

-We could try. This is Jarvis Cocker, by the way. He's got a unique voice. - Jonny introduced the young man with long, disheveled hair and an eclectic style.

Billy sipped on a glass of juice. The late afternoon was reserved for studio sessions, where they preferred recording entire compositions in a single take. He felt disillusioned by how slowly everything was progressing. Despite months of practice, it seemed they were getting nowhere.

They needed to finish "Mills: Predator's Love" and "The Force of Love (Dr. Karpula)." The rigorous process of producing an album, almost complete yet unfinished, was wearing thin.

-Dinner's ready. - Mrs. G announced as she adjusted her neatly styled silver hair, tied up in a bun.

-Hell yes. - Billy exclaimed, tossing his script into a corner. He had spent too much time reading it but found it easier to memorize it as a song.

-Double the meat, extra veggies, and a bit of plantain. However, still find this recipe rather peculiar. - Mrs. G remarked, jotting down his preferences. The steak, sliced into long strips, weighed nearly a pound. Alongside it was a large glass of mint lemonade. The salad bowl was brimming with halved cherry tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, diced potatoes, broccoli, and a touch of beetroot. It was a complete meal.

-You've got half an hour before you need to head to the studio with the recordings. - Mrs. G said as if foreseeing his next move. Right on cue, the doorbell rang—it was the driver, arriving just in time for Billy to eat a little before leaving.

-Thanks, G. - Billy said, his gaze inviting her to join him at the table. She served herself a modest portion of salad, a bit of rice, and a small strip of meat in a bowl no larger than her hand.

Mrs. G stood up and brought over a jar of fruit with yogurt to complete the meal. Billy's diet restricted him from eating after 8:00 PM, a regimen he followed diligently to maintain his well-earned physique.

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