Lost my reputation | B.E.

Chapter 8: your power

Narrator: someone

Just as the second to last song finishes, Billie slides down her stool, feet landing with a muffled thump on the carpet floors. She adjusts her skirt and stretches her stiff body – a consequence from spending way too many hours in the same position – and it's alien, really, especially when her back arches with a crack.

She reaches over to the side and grabs her bottle of water, taking a well-deserved sip. She ignores the bustle around her as well as the loud voices now that Finneas and Andrew are getting ready for the last song.

Today's been a long fucking day and Billie has been dying to wrap it up, pining for the moment she gets to hop in her car and drive back home.

She's been incredibly busy, as well as incredibly fed up with the routine of her overwhelming schedule.

Everyday's a new day, and yet, with a new day comes a new, fresh round of rehearsals for the upcoming festivals she's playing in September. It's becoming routine, and it's for lack of a better word, draining.

September is rapidly coming around, and Billie is barely holding on – basically falling apart.

She's so tired and exhausted, she truly wonders how her album release and her fan's joy haven't given her some sort of energy back. That kinda makes her want to cry.

Nonetheless, she sucks it up and sits back on her stool, because in her 20 something years of life, her successful career's taught her one thing; even in chaos there is consistency.

"Your power?" Finneas asks and Billie nods, and the sound of his acoustic guitar fills the room.

This time, it's not so bad if wrong notes don't turn into right ones, but regardless, her big brother's playing is as perfect as most nights, whenever there is a crowd. Billie sings and Finneas' voice becomes harmony, wrapping itself around Billie's like they were only ever made for this.

There's no proper audience, no lights and setting, no intermission, only one performance that they've rehearsed hundreds of times in Finneas' basement. Yet, the script has to be written all over again, rebuilt and re-learnt with every one of its variations to keep the fans on their toes - until Billie can do it without having to think about it ever again.

Until there's a hostile crowd jumping in front of them, dying to learn every single one of the shapes and flavors Billie's voices take on whenever she hits another note; it's like she's a mystery waiting to be solved – it's like she was created just for this, the relentless urge to sing swelling in her throat.

So she breathes into the feeling, voices morphing into force.

It is breathy and soft, and Maggie watches in awe because she understands just as much that music was never meant to sound so harsh. She also understands, as she watches her daughter close her eyes to shut the world out, that she might be spiraling down.

Awe turns into worry just as she witnesses how the performance turns into grasping for survival, and suddenly music turns into water and breath – just enough to be kept alive – as Billie pulls music out by its roots, hurling it out of her chest and into the air – singing about being violated one too many times.

***

Andrew's quietly jamming in the background as Finneas chats with Claudia who's comfortably nestled in his arms. They look cute and Billie feels a pang in her chest when she sees just how happy Claudia seems to be.

There's nothing quite like a happy woman.

She takes her in-ears out, letting out a quiet breath of relief before downing her bottle of water. Her mother comes up to her and congratulates her softly then kisses her temple. Billie mutters a shy "thanks" before Maggie retreats in the background with her daughter's managers.