Lost in the Darkness // Billie Eilish

Part XXI

Immediately following my performance, I left stage and headed straight to the tour bus parked in the back of the arena.

"Hi Earl," I quickly greeted our driver as I walked passed him, aiming for the back room.

"Hi Billie. How's life treatin' you?"

"Same as usual."

I shut the door behind of me and threw myself to lay on the couch, turning on the tv for background noise then pulling out my phone.

My heart sunk as my thumb hovered over my contacts, feeling indecisive on whether to click it or not. Already knowing what would happen only moments after tapping her name, I spared myself the trouble and switched to instagram instead.

A few minutes pass of aimless scrolling before there's a knock on the door.

I don't respond and keep my eyes glued to my screen.

"It's Finneas."

I sign and repress a groan, finding myself unable to shoo away my older brother.

"Come in,"

He pokes his head in. "You alright?"

"Yep." I reply dryly, not once looking in his direction.

"You sure?"

"Mh-hmm."

My answer, or lack thereof, makes him step in the room completely. He takes a seat next to me on the couch, not before lifting my legs up and setting them back on his lap.

"How's Emma?" He asks.

"Wish I knew."

"What's that supposed to mean."

I shrug. "I dunno. I haven't been able to get in touch with her recently. She's been busy, I'm busy. Our schedules aren't really syncing up at the moment."

"Put some thought in what's gonna happen after tour? Are you going back to LA?"

"I don't know."

"Are you gonna fly back to Prague for a bit."

"I don't know, Finneas."

"Jeez, relax Billie. I might have to call Emma and snitch on you again. This little angsty thing you've got going on isn't cool."

"You sound like Danny and Brandon. And the rest of those randoms from Interscope."

"Yeah, but the difference is I actually care. I don't like seeing you all mopey and shit."

"Fly my girlfriend out and maybe that'll change." I say flatly, continuing to scroll without a clear direction."

"Call her. She's the only one that can seem to get you in check."

"No use. It's just a gonna go to voicemail, she's working."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"I've tried seven times today."

"Make it eight."

I let out another sign and give in, finally clicking the phone icon.

A few seconds later, "emmaaaa <33" is flashed across the top of the screen in white letters.

I wait and then wait some more.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system, +420-8-"

Before my phone can finish reciting her phone number, I hang up, trying my hardest not to show how disappointed I am.

"I can't do this long distance shit, Fin. I miss her."

"For a kid with separation anxiety, you're not doing half bad." He chuckles wholeheartedly.

"How the fuck do you know I have that?"

"You've had it since you were a baby, dude."

"Well, yeah, but I outgrew it."

He laughs. Loudly.

"What?" I get defensive.

"You never 'outgrew' that. Your desire to always have people around you has never not been apparent. You need connections and relationships and intimacy of any kind. That's just the type of person you are and there's nothing wrong with that, Bil."

"But it's exhausting. One day I'm gonna I'm gonna be alone and it's gonna drive me into insanity. Sure, I like being alone, but I hate feeling lonely. I need to learn how to be content with just Billie."

"You don't need to worry about being alone as long as you strengthen the relationships you already have. Your girlfriend, your family, your friends, they aren't going anywhere. That's what the human experience is all about. Being with people, socializing. It's vital."

Finneas leans in and gives me a much needed hug, holding me tight and rubbing my back in circles. "Cheer up, superstar. She loves you, she'll call you back, you'll see her soon enough. I'll talk to our team and see if they can give you even a sliver of a break. Tour's really eating away at you, I can tell."

Somehow, someway, Finneas always knows exactly what I need to hear. His words aren't nearly enough to mend an aching heart though.

That night, I read another poem from the journal she gave me before bed. This time, it's an original that brings me to tears.

I make sure to turn on my side, rather than sleeping on my back to avoid a second night of sleep paralysis.

I clutched the loose fabric of my shirt closer to my chest and shut my eyes, silently praying for rest.

And a call from Emma.