Photograph

Six

We were sprawled out all over the couch, I was wearing one of her baggy blohsh merch shirts and had cool basketball shorts on, as it was so hot. Billie had one hand tucked up my shirt, drawing patterns on my stomach, and the other running through her hair.

She looked angelic.

The green haired girl beside me rubbed her chest and groaned slightly. "I fuck with those things, dude."

Never ever did I think that I'd be here right now with Billie fucking Eilish. Like her manager had said, Finneas was responsible for me this tour— but ever since my mum ditched me outside Billie's house, I had stuck to her like glue. Don't get me wrong, Finneas was great. We clicked instantly, but there was something about Billie that just... Drew me to her.

I wasn't supposed to, because she was always busy busy busy, but I did.

My cheeks were always red around her, and my stomach was always fluttery.

She didn't know that, I hoped. She didn't seem like she minded me sticking to her, as she was always clinging on to me, but people told me all the time she was a touchy feely person.

Actually, though, she was very much different to what everyone portrayed her as. She was so cocky, and confident, and easygoing. She always knew how to start a conversation, but could just as fast end one if she grew impatient enough.

"Right after slagging them off, you decide they're good?"

A throaty, nonchalant laugh escaped her lips as she scrunched her nose slightly. "Slagging them off? What is that? Like, British slang or something?" She says inbetween breaths. "And, also, I never said they were good, ma. I said I fucked with them. Don't get it twisted."

She groaned again before sitting up and pulling off her purple hoodie for the second time today, her chains crinkling against her shirt, and she tossed it beside me. She was wearing a skintight tank top, and there the odd different coloured blohsh chains dangling down her neck and onto her chest.

Another thing about her, was that she was so much prettier in person.

Very intimating too, must I add.

I didn't know whether I wanted to be her or to kiss her.

"You're staring, mamas." She said. "Like what you see?"

I shook my head, letting out a small nervous chuckle escape as I felt the blood rush to my cheeks once again. "Slagging something off means like, talking shit about something." I ignored.

She nodded. "I wanna start slagging off Rob to his face. See how that stupid bitch likes it."

"You're still upset about the rooms?"

She rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't you be? Like, I don't get how— or why it's such a big deal."

"To be honest, Billie, I don't even think we're supposed to be talking to each other right now."

She stared at me, a blank look on her face, but she was holding a smile back.

"What?" I asked.

She ran her fingers through her hair again.

"Well, do you like talking to me?"

I paused. I wasn't expecting that question.

"I- uh, yeah. I think everyone who talks to you likes talking to you. You're Billie Eilish. Like, the most interesting person ever." I stammered.

I watched as she scrunched her nose again. I had noticed this was a cute habit she had when she was happy. Her face would light up and her little pink nose would crinkle and she'd flash her teeth in a small smile.

But, that didn't last as her blush died down slightly, before she cleared her throat and took a sip of her Coke, the metal straw clanking against the ice cubes in the small plastic cup.

She leaned over, adjusting herself by crossing her legs and resting her manicured hand on my leg, stroking the bare skin with her thumb— making my stomach flutter slightly.

"Tell me more about you, Alex." She said, barely a whisper. "Since I'm so interesting to talk to."

"Don't push your luck, Eilish." I responded in a hushed tone, earning a small shove from the green haired girl.

"But," I tried again, "I guess there's no harm in getting to know each other."

/

BILLIE'S POV

The sky was dark by now, and I had learned that her favourite colour was purple, she lives with her parents and after this she plans on going back to the UK with her dad to study whatever the fuck she was studying before.

Media and film, I think it was? Ion remember. Is media and film a thing in the UK?

She has a sister who she doesn't see and her ex girlfriend cheated on her right before she ventured off to LA. I felt a pang in my chest as her voice cracked while she spoke when she told me, and she trailed off, implying she didn't wanna talk about it anymore.

But, most importantly out of all of this, I also learned that I undoubtedly am starting to blindly fall for her.

Which wasn't what I wanted.

If I started a relationship, with anyone, I just know I'd end up getting hurt in the long run because of my feelings.

Long story short— I'm too sad to commit. Fuck off, I know it's stupid, but if you had a choice, would you choose to be sad? I can't decide this shit. It's what I feel.

As if she had read my mind, I heard a small, British voice pipe up.

"Are you gonna tell anyone about how you feel? Like, mentally. Finneas? Maggie?"

"How about.. Uh, Fuck no?" I responded.

"But, Billie, you can't bottle this all up. Especially before going out and performing to millions of people who want you at your absolute be—"

"Okay! Okay! I get it. Fuck. " I snapped. "I didn't know you were god damn Oprah Winfrey."

I got up and ran my fingers through my hair again but in frustration. "Look, dude, I'm good. It's not as bad as it was ages ago, so, just leave the fuck off, man. Don't you have your own problems? Like, checking if your fucking camera lenses are still in tact or some stupid nerdy shit like that? Butt out of my shit, bro."

And with that, I made my way to the tiny bedroom at the back of the suite before she could even process and react to me, slamming the door behind me and clambering onto the tiny, stiff single bed, nearly tripping over my suitcase as I did.

The springs of the tiny bed creaked under me as I rested my head on the pillow, looking out the hotel window as I laid there, watching.

I looked at myself through the reflection of the window, as the odd star twinkled outside, dotted around the sky. My hair was sticking up out of all directions while it flooded onto the pillow as I adjusted myself, sighing.

I slept alone in that room that night. The bed next to me pristine and still, completely empty.

I didn't like the tension. Especially when I just knew Alex was in the room down the tiny hall, wracking her brain at what she must've said to suddenly set me off.

I need to stop walking away from people when they tell me the truth.