𝑻𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 ~ ᴮⁱˡˡʸ ᴹᵃˣⁱᵐᵒᶠᶠ

Epilogue

[Two years later]

Kit's POV

I'm eighteen today. Finally, I'm eighteen, I can see Billy again. God, that feeling. I never knew just exactly how much I needed somebody. I mean, I knew him for how long? A few months? Maybe a year. In that year, I moved, failed history, fell in love, got a job, survived my father's death, and somehow, it was the best year of my life.

After that, it went to literal shit. I had three foster homes, one loved me, one hated me, and the one I'm in now is fine. I guess, I haven't been hit or anything, but they took my phone away and gave it to one of their kids. Those kids went through all my messages with Billy. There wasn't anything bad in them, no dick pics or anything but they still deleted a bunch of stuff, sent him homophobic messages, and all that.

Billy probably hates me. I mean, I got it back one night and I texted him to tell him it wasn't me and it was the stupid twelve-year-old boys that took my phone. He didn't respond. He didn't care. He blocked me. I can't help but blame myself for that. Whatever. That was a while ago and Billy's forgotten about me. As he should, I'm not really all that notable anyways.

My phone starts buzzing and I groan. Reaching over I say, "How shall I answer said spa-" Billy is the caller ID. It took me a moment to comprehend what the hell just happened but I answered it.

"Billy?" I ask, my voice cracking and I'm close to tears.

On the other end, I can hear horns and people chatting, "Kit?" He asks.

I let out a sigh of relief, "Yeah...oh god...where are you?"

"Currently? New York. I got a gig and I figured-"

"A gig for what?"

"Oh? I thought I told you...I'm in a band."

I gape, "Holy shit. Holy shit!"

"Didn't I-" he paused, "You weren't kidding about the kid...right- sorry about that I-"

"Shut up and tell me about your band."

"Where are you? Maybe you could-"

"I-I'm in Brooklyn..."

"Awesome." I can hear the smile in his voice, picture his eyes lighting up, those stupid chocolate brown eyes will be the death of me. I swear to god. "I can get you if you want."

"No...no I'll go to you...where are you?"

"I'll just send it to you. And don't come till like seven-ish...don't want you to be bored or anything."

"Got it..." I'm blushing like an idiot and I've got one of my hands tugging at my hair. "I-I love you." Before he can say anything I hang up. Dick move, I know but it's fine.

Billy's POV

Here I thought he died and some kid stole his phone. Nope. Kit Peirce is alive and coming to my show. HE'S COMING. TO. MY. SHOW. I've always wanted this. Maybe it's because half the songs I've written are about him, maybe it's because I'm hella good at every instrument. Maybe it's just because I want to see him again.

When Kit left I picked up music. Turns out I'm good. Like, really good. I started my own band, David's on guitar and he duets with me sometimes. We have a keyboard kid that Agnus knew, David knew a girl who could play drums, and I really like the bass and I can sing. So here we are. The Werewolves. The girl, Djuna, came up with it. No one else had any other ideas so we went with it.

I finished the song that we were practicing and looked at the time, Five. Kit should be here soon. "Hey...I'm going on break." I say and put my bass down on the stand beside me. Before anyone can stop me I sprint out the front door.

I lean against the wall and sigh. What am I gonna say to him? Hey, sorry I ghosted you for like half a year! Wanna go out again? I'm pretty sure I'm just supposed to wing this one. My thoughts are cut off when I see him.

He sees me and we both start sprinting.

I don't even get the chance to say anything before he kisses me. So yes, he probably wants to go out.

"OH! So this is mystery boy." Djuna says from behind me. I let go of Kit and she goes to shake his hand, "Hi, Mystery boy, I'm Djuna. I play drums for these idiots." I laugh a bit and put my arm over Kit's shoulder.

I got him back

---Author's Note---
Well. That was it. That was Tired of Love Songs. Hope you guys enjoyed it!
---Author's Note---