Unexpected Family

I Don't Do Kids

Billie's POV

I swear, if Kelly says the word "authentic" one more time, I might actually die in this chair.

She's been going on for twenty minutes about something I'm apparently "not connecting with." The fans? The media? Who knows.

I'm half-listening, half-staring at a stain on the table, wondering if it's coffee or something worse.

Then she says it.

"Kids."

I look up. "What?"

Kelly gives me that smile the fake one. The "don't freak out but I'm about to say something awful" one.

"We want to do a short-term foster care partnership," she says, like she's talking about a sponsorship. "

You'd take in two kids just temporarily"

"No."

"Just listen-"

"I am listening," I cut in. "I said no."

Kelly exhales through her nose like she's trying to stay patient.

"You've been... kind of closed off lately. This would be a chance to show a different side of you. Softer. Warmer. You with kids? People would love that."

I stare at her. "Kelly. I hate kids."

"You don't-"

"I do." I sit up straighter. "They're loud. They cry. They break stuff. They ask a million questions. And they stare at you like you owe them something."

Kelly shrugs. "They're three. It's not like they're writing Yelp reviews."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Oh my god."

"It's just for a couple weeks," she says. "There's already a partnership lined up.

These are two kids from the foster system Skylar and Mackenzie. Siblings. Three years old.

The organization wants to pair them with a celebrity to bring awareness to the need for foster homes"

"I'm not a foster home," I snap. "I'm barely a functioning adult."

"They'll stay in your guesthouse. There'll be people helping around the clock. You just... show up sometimes.

Play nice. Snap a few photos. Do a couple videos. That's it."

I lean back in my chair, biting the string of my hoodie. I'm so tired.

Of all of this. The industry. The pretending. The people telling me how to be more "likable."

And now I'm supposed to fake-mother two toddlers?

God.

But... part of me knows the numbers haven't been great lately. Streams are fine, but press is down. People are bored of me.

I'm not the shiny new thing anymore. I'm just... me.

And apparently that's not enough right now.

"How long?" I ask, voice flat.

Kelly perks up. "Two weeks."

I sigh. "What if they hate me?"

"They won't."

I raise an eyebrow. "You don't know that."

She smiles again. "They're kids, Billie. They don't even know how to hate yet."

Cool. I guess they'll learn.

"Fine," I mumble. "But if they poop on the floor, I'm quitting music forever."