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Of course, Spencer knew the Billy had a life before death. He also knew that the ghost loved him very much, sometimes believing that BJC loved him more than his own parents did.
He knew how ridiculous it sounded that Billy was some sort of an adult role model for him; this was Billy Joe Cobra, pop star and sniper. Billy was probably one of the worst role models one could find. But that didn't change Spencer's feelings. BJC was always there and supported him in every way possible.
Billy was the one who helped him pick out clothes for his first real date, he was also the one who sat on the edge of Spencer's bed and comforted him after his first heartbreak. Billy was also the one who sat with him when he was sick, sometimes telling him dump children story's to pass time.
Billy often had an expression on his face as if he wanted to tell him something, but never did. Spencer hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't important.
Billy was also there when Spencer won his first big award for one of his short films. Spencer could hardly remember the speeches and the people who were there, but he wasn't the only one. Even his walk to the stage seemed strangely distant now, and even accepting his trophy, which should have been burned into his memory, seemed like a mere trifle.
The event that overshadowed everything that evening was something completely different, a revelation that no one had expected, especially not Spencer. He remembered, after accepting the award, he returned to his seat and then some of the best-rated short films should be shown.
Sponsor names were still flashing across the screen and everyone was waiting, while the adverts and product placements that were still to come. Then suddenly it appeared: Late submission.
But late submissions weren”t allowed? The organizers also looked confused, and Spencer saw several phones being pulled out. Then, on the screen, which they were all watching intently, appeared the curved lettering:
My greatest love was never music
A murmur of “It must be hackers” went through the crowd. Organizers began hurriedly sending employees around to get their screens back. But everyone paused when the video started with a familiar voice: "Hey, my little one.” For a moment, people couldn't place the voice until they remembered some annoying pop songs that were still being played. "Is that Billy Joe Cobra speaking?” came the question. The organizers also recognized the voice and immediately stopped to try turn it off.
The image showed a living room, probably recorded with a video camera. Then he turned the camera towards himself and you could see a lively Billy, but from his appearance it couldn't have been long before his death. "Well, where has my little one hidden himself again?” he asked, then turned the camera back towards the room.
In one corner stood a small child holding a pillow in front of his face so as not to be found. He was probably not even four years old. They heard Billy laughing: "Well, my little one? Don't you want to go?”
The child just shook his head strongly. The man crouched down: "Come here, my little one.” The child toddled over to him; up close, it was perhaps younger than originally thought. The musician picked him up and held him in his arms, camera placed on a table, and people could see Cobra bouncing the child on his arm’s. When he kissed him on the cheek, the little thing laughed happily.
"Hey there! I love you so much,” said the musician, playfully poking the child on the nose. "I love you more than I love myself, and that's saying something, because I'm a pretty bad narcissist.”
The child just reached out his hands to pull on his shirt collar. Cobra just laughed again and grabbed the camera, which he had carelessly put down, to pick up his child. Once he had it, he rather clumsily aimed the camera at the child. "Well, my little one, can you still smile for Daddy?”
The child looked into the camera and smiled, showing his little white teeth.
Then it reached out its hands towards the camera. "Well, my baby Spenc, you want everything that belongs to Daddy, don't you?” laughed the man, handing the camera to the child. And put him on the floor.
They saw the image sway and BJC bend down to pick up a child's suitcase: "You'll see, my cousin and her husband are very nice, they'll take good care of you until I get back. And when I come to pick you up, we'll have even more money and the police will have arrested X by then," he said, and they could see him put the suitcase down again to hug the boy: ”Don't worry, little one, no one will hurt you."
The camera swayed again as BJC took it from his son and put it back on the table. "Daddy,” the child babbled, reaching out his hands to his face. "Don't be sad, Da,” the child continued to babble, his little hands stroking BJC's cheeks.
The pop star's voice sounded as if he was about to cry at any moment: "I'll be fine again in a sec if you're here,with me, little one.”
Shortly afterwards, the camera was pointed at a calendar. "If everything goes well, I'll come and pick you up here again.” He tapped on a day and drew a heart on it with a pen.
The tour dates were marked on the calendar, and everyone knew that it would be his last. He had planned to pick up his son from his cousin's house two days after the tour ended. But he never made it there.
Shortly afterwards, the camera was turned off.
The video ended and the names of sponsors ran across the screen again. The murmuring in the crowd turned into a commotion. Spencer Wright just sat in his seat, tears running down his face.
The first people realized who the child was, but before they could ask him, he was gone. He had run away, leaving his trophy abandoned on his chair, along with the event program.
Spencer was lying on his bed at home. "Spenc, mate? Little one?” he heard the unusually uncertain voice of Billy, his father.
"Why did you do that? Why like that? You could have just talked to me,” he sobbed, feeling the ghost's hand lightly resting on his brown hair: "I'm sorry. I know you never wanted to be known as BJC's child, but I had my reasons. You have to trust me on this."
"TRUST! Why didn't you ever tell me you were my father?” he snapped angrily and sat up on the bed.
"Oh, that, yes.” He floated over to Spencer and sat down next to him, his hands folded in his lap as he said, "You can believe me when I say that you have always been and will always be the most important thing in my life and in my death.” He began, and Spencer tried to calm himself.
As Billy told him a heavily abridged version of the story: "Your mother was still very young. I had lots of groupies and stalkers and so on, you know, I was a superstar. The label, my producers and everyone were against me keeping you, but your mother couldn't look after you anymore. I saw you and I wanted you so badly. They said it would destroy my career and my reputation if it came out that I had a child. So the public never knew about you. After a while, I was glad about that because my stalker X was becoming more and more aggressive, and I was afraid she would hurt you. So I talked to the police, but at that time they couldn't do much about letters, photos and phone calls. Did you know that my death led to a tightening of the stalking laws?"
"Billy, please stay on topic.”
"They could only do something if X did something direct. They wanted to help me with that too; we wanted to let her run into them on tour. It was my first big one in a long time. So she was guaranteed to be there. If she did anything at the meet and greet, she would be arrested. So I gave you to my distant cousin and her husband, they had recently married, and I knew they would keep quiet and take good care of you."
Spencer swallowed, he knew this story wasn't going to end well.
"But I could never pick you up. Those idiots didn't think Madame X was that dangerous because she looked so pretty. I'll spare you the details. Long story short, I died, and Madame X can't leave her secret bunker because she's still under house arrest, till this day."
"And why did you choose such a public place to tell me all this? Now the whole world knows,” Spencer grumbled.
"Because of a substance that so much revolves around. Money. It's because of the inheritance, my inheritance,” explained the pop star.
Slowly, the screws turned in Spencer's already completely overloaded brain. "You were afraid my parents wouldn't give me my inheritance? Billy, they love me.” Of course, he knew his parents weren't perfect; they preferred Jessica over him, but all parents had a favorite child, that was normal.
Billy put his arm around his shoulder as he often did, but today it felt somehow different to Spencer. "Spencer, the people who raised you. Your parents are nice people and they love you very much. But they made no move to inform you. That may be because they didn't want you to see them differently. Or because they would have given you a document to sign in the days leading up to your birthday, which you wouldn't have read because you trust them, and *BAAM* you would have signed over your inheritance to them. But I want you to have it. And I want you to be safe. I want you to be taken care of. I want you to be able to do something if Madame X approaches you," Billy continued.
"But you could have just talked to my parents privately, you didn't have to tell the whole world,” Spencer grumbled as he heard the commotion outside the house growing louder by the minute.
"What if they had moved out? Taken you with them? What if you hadn't known why X was suddenly after you too?” Billy asked.
"Has something happened? Something you're not telling me?” He knew BJC, his father, well enough by now to see something like that in him.
The ghost sighed: "You're too young to worry about something like that,” he said, placing his hand on Spencer's cheek to look at him: "But there's been a rumor about my secret child for a long time, and it's been getting louder since you moved in here. I just wanted to make sure no one could doubt it,” he explained.
Spencer was sure there was more to this story. But Billy disappeared when Spencer's mother knocked on the door: "Spencer, baby, can I come in?” Spencer sensed that this was going to be a long day.