They were welcomed at the Bellagio Casino, opened to the public in 2008, as if they were royalty. The moment they walked in, they were handed margaritas, given the best rooms, and of course, assigned a personal concierge to cater to their every whim. No matter what happened, they dove right in, and all their original plans were forgotten as they spent the night playing roulette and rolling the dice.
-Damn it, we're rich! – shouted Billy, throwing a lucky seven that landed them $500,000, a chunk of which he handed out for others to gamble with. As he gave money away, Scarlett was just as drunk as he was, and people were delighted to see them. Some snapped photos on their phones, but the casino had banned the press, and fans were thrilled as Billy handed out cash, bought drinks for everyone, and laughed while the mood grew more festive by the minute.
Billy's luck was like a rocket—whenever the odds seemed stacked against him, instinct kicked in and told him to have fun. He'd win again, only to blow the money on outrageous gifts and offers. It was a wildly disproportionate cycle, yet anyone watching would see the benefit.
-Come on, roll the dice, – said Billy.
-Alright. – Scarlett whispered, throwing the dice, which clattered across the table only to land on a losing roll. But the thrill of gambling—the rush, the madness—it had her heart racing. Not far off, Leonardo was playing poker and getting crushed by a guy in a red cap who had him totally outmatched.
-I lost. –
-That doesn't matter. Just blow on the dice a little harder next time and win. – said Billy, taking the dice himself and winning again, which triggered cheers and led her to take two more turns, winning both and losing one, which still brought her total back into the thousands. This was how they did things—win big, drink more, laugh louder. Dawn was just around the corner, though no one would've guessed it.
-Let's hit the slots. – said Billy, trying his luck on the casino machines. With a thousand-dollar coin, you could play for a full hour non-stop if you made minimum bets, keeping the risks low.
Now they were all on their own, lost in their own little worlds, fully immersed in the party.
-I'm staying down here a while. You go up and rest. – Billy told her.
-Sure. – replied the blonde, completely exhausted, her eyes heavy with sleep. She could barely walk, unlike Billy, who thrived under the Nevada desert sunsets. He just wanted to play his guitar. Sleep only came when it was truly necessary—his schedule was strange, but he was used to it. If he wanted, he'd sleep twelve hours, and this time, he would.
He poured himself a glass of water and moved quickly. The room across the hall belonged to the models, the next to Orlando and his girlfriend, and the last one was Leonardo's. Billy ordered a large, indulgent breakfast—plenty of fruit, oatmeal, some toast, and a bit of tea. He'd sleep with a full stomach. He sighed—the alcohol had his head spinning.
He glanced at his phone. At least he had music. He played a nocturne—some classical piece to help settle his nerves. He sighed, trying to draw some inspiration. It was a shame he no longer drew like he used to—those skills were long gone. But when it came to music, the melodies came effortlessly. All it took was five minutes of thinking, and thousands of songs floated through his head like old friends.
He was sketching out rock choruses, and even drifting into pop, bending it into pop-rock or soft rock. That was his style—he listened to music deeply and felt it just as intensely. He could tell at a glance which melodies from the greats of past centuries still held power. That's why he'd insisted on learning piano, violin, and guitar. A real musician understands all facets of music. Luck helped, but knowledge gave him wings to make the best albums, or maybe just that one song that stuck because it was truly good.
Then a flicker of light flashed in his mind.
Status –
Billy Carson
Vocals: (2474/4200) Level 10: Guru
Piano: (945/1024) Level 7: Veteran
Guitar: (1483/2048) Level 8: Expert
Violin: (34/64) Level 4: Semi-Professional
Rank: Global
7/8,340,000
Followers: 27,789,000
He was the seventh-ranked musician in the world, whether by follower count or some system metric. He'd been there for quite a while. He figured it came down to two things: sales and followers, with a few unknown factors mixed in.
Strong: 43.5 million in sales.
His debut album, filled with genuinely great songs, sold 43.5 million copies. It went diamond in the U.S., the U.K., Japan, Brazil, Canada, Spain, Poland, Germany, Australia, Belgium, the Philippines, and Hong Kong.
His fanbase ranged from 12 to 29 years old. Billy's songs were adored by women, rock lovers, and anyone who had ever been to one of his concerts—events that were turning points in people's lives. Every tour brought a spike in album sales. All it took was one great concert, and word-of-mouth did the rest. His music showing up in major films only amplified the effect—it was all part of a consumer phenomenon.
Fall, his second album, had sold 38 million.
Adeventicio sold 41.2 million.
The Everflow sold 26 million.
He heard a knock at the door. His breakfast had arrived—delivered by a Black woman who greeted him with a polite nod. Her tired eyes and distant gaze reminded him so much of his mother that he almost wanted to hug her.
-Your tip. – said Billy, handing her two $100 bills. He had a thick roll of cash in his right pocket. After winning $300,000 at the tables, he'd cashed out. Two fat stacks of hundreds totaling a hundred grand, and the rest loaded onto a black card for hotel expenses.
-Thank you, – she said, bowing slightly.
-Don't mention it, sweetheart. Hope you have a great day. – said Billy, diving into his breakfast, devouring two large bowls of fruit in under ten minutes. He drank plenty of water and enjoyed a bowl of oatmeal. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—he definitely didn't look like a kid. His features were sharp, his nose small and upturned, his hair thick and full.
He opened the bedroom door and found Scarlett fast asleep. He brushed his teeth, admiring his white smile. Money changed everything—so many things had made his life easier. He took off his shirt and pants, stripped down to his boxers, and climbed into bed beside his companion. She clung to him with a love that was warm and full of tenderness. She buried her face in his chest, and they held each other in a long, heartfelt embrace.
....