Lost in the Darkness // Billie Eilish

Part XIII

After my little, pathetic excuse of a meeting, Emma invited me to watch in on an interview she had to do later that day.

I loved seeing her in her element, focused and professional. I found it cute how she would periodically look down at her journal to reread her questions and thoughts, even though she had spent half an hour prior to the interview, ambitiously reviewing.

It was even more admirable how she would go off script and ask her own personal questions.

The person she was interviewing was a pretty popular Czech artist, and a woman at that. A part of me wondered if she talked to everyone she interviewed, the same way she talked to me. I was relieved to find out that wasn't true. Of course, she was still just as charming, but the tension wasn't there, like it had been for us.

She was naturally friendly, but she didn't smile as wide whenever the artist would say something semi-funny. But with me, she laughed softly at my awkward comments and jokes.

As the interview progressed, some of DVTV's employees began to recognize me. And although they had seemingly kind intentions, they began to pester me when all I was trying to do was cherish Emma in her prime. I didn't like that they made this about me, but either way, I gave out hugs and smiles and wrote a few signatures on some forearms.

When Emma was done, she met up with and sat next to me, which stirred some conversations amongst the employees and even a quiet gasp when she kissed me on the lips.

"Will you ever get used to that?" She grins, ignoring everyone else and only looking at me.

Tunnel vision.

"Used to what? The staring-"

She shakes her head, a warm smile still on her face. "No, not that. The affection. The tips of your ears are red."

"Probably not," I chuckle, being embarrassingly honest with her. "I'm never usually like this, I swear."

"Like what?"

"A nervous wreck. You're the first person that's ever produced a reaction like this out of me." I get a little closer to her, whispering as I try to defend myself. "I promise I'm not this much of a bottom. You gotta believe me, Em."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I pull away and raise an eyebrow, appealed to hear such a thing. "You seriously calling me a bottom?"

"Well, yes. Are you not?"

"No!"

She hums. "Oh,"

"Oh?"

"You were practically trembling underneath me the other night. And you let me spit in your mouth, I don't think it's fair to say I jumped to any conclusions."

Giving up, I let out a deep sign and mumble, "you're aggravating."

Shortly after that conversation, we went back to Emma's apartment, where I was happily greeted by Nicholas.

Emma laughed and set her keys down, "you cant leave now, he's attached."

I pout jokingly, "is it the dog or the dog's owner who's attached, hm?"

"Shall I remind you of the discussion we just had?"

I quickly grumble, "no."

After playing, feeding, and giving Nicholas a bath, we settle back on the couch to watch a movie, her head leaning against my shoulder as we shared a blanket.

I adored moments like this. Moments where I had little to worry about. It felt like I was living a normal life. Truth be told, I love being famous, but I'd kill for more days where I could just be myself.

"Emma?" I spoke aloud, a quarter of the way into the movie.

"Billie?"

"You remember when I was talking about relationships and you said you had some 'follow-up questions' for me? What could you possibly mean by that?"

"It's not necessarily that I have questions for you, but there's a document that does."

"What?" I look at her with nothing but confusion.

She shuffles in place, grabs her laptop off of the coffee table and turns to face me, legs crisscrossed.

After a moment of typing, she rotates the computer on her lap so I can see.

I catch a glimpse of the title and I believe it says "masterdoc".

"Billie, I think you might be lesbian."

Now, I'm looking at her like each and every one of her marbles just spilled on the floor."Whoa, whoa, take two steps back. Where did this come from?"

"Before I go any further, let me preface this by saying, I understand it's your identity and your journey. If you don't think it's true, then that's okay. I'm just here to offer some guidance. Only if you want it."

"Thanks? Can you tell me what the fuck I said that made you think that?" I say with genuine confusion.

"The way you talked about your romantic relationships with men. It's ringing a few bells." She completely hands me the laptop.

With hesitance, I start reading. The first thing I'm met with is a definition of something called "compulsory heterosexuality".

The more I read, the more I start to question my identity. Something I've been so sure of for so long. As I continue to scroll, the way I feel begins to align with some of the things mentioned in the document.

Emma watches as I read, reluctance and possibly regret forming on her face. I'm assuming she's second-guessing telling me, but by the time I've finished reading, I'm thankful.

The movie has been paused for a while now once I've closed the laptop. It's not that I'm upset or disappointed, I'm just... shocked.

"Emma."

She stares back at me.

"I think I'm a lesbian," I can tell she's taken aback herself, when a growing smile starts to form on my lips. "Holy shit."

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just thinking. Things are clicking and a lot of it makes sense now." I stare at nothing in particular with a "what the fuck" expression written all over my face. I suddenly turn to look at her, "Wait, are you into men? Like, at all?"

She simply shakes her head, "Strictly women. I tried for a long time to make relationships work with men, but it was excruciatingly difficult. Almost to the point where it made me miserable."

"What specifically made you realized you liked women solely?"

"Every relationship felt as though it was a competition and not a partnership. It felt like he would try to control me or maintain some sort of power over me in an effort to keep his masculinity in tact. They would attempt to act like a father, but somehow, simultaneously wanted me to mother them. It was frustrating. Every time I broke up with one man and get with another, the same thing happened over and over again. At a certain point, I realized it wasn't the individual, but the collective."

I'm sure she could sense the alarming expression on my face as the idea that, I may in fact, be a lesbian seemed more and more like a reality.

She quickly followed up with something that calmed me down just a bit. "Remember, every situation and person is different. That was just my experience. And I don't want you to feel like you've been 'living a lie' if you really do think you're a lesbian. It took me more years than I'd like to admit to realize even though I majored in psychology. You'd think I'd recognize the signs if I'm experience them myself. I just think it's harder to admit you don't like men, than it is to admit you like women. Take your time."

I've never been filled with more appreciation than right now. This woman is truly extraordinary.