Would you Swallow all your Pride?

Chapter Eighteen: Brown.

That's never a good sign. "Talk to me... maybe I can help?" Venable would be the first one to admit she didn't give good advice—mostly because she didn't have any practice in it—but Billie Dean made her want to try.

With a deep breath, Billie Dean stared at their fingers. The sight was becoming familiar. "I just can't be late."

"What's the worst that can happen if you're late?" Wilhemina's therapist always asked her that, and so she assumed it'd be a good idea to ask Billie Dean back.

"Carmen will kill me."

"So what? There's no show without you."

"I know, but... but I c-can't." It simply wasn't an option for Billie Dean. She knew how the producers were, how they talked about her and how the gossip flew. Being deemed 'hard to work with' was something it took a long time to recover from. "The producers won't like it. There's a lot of m-money and time involved. People are c-counting on me." Breathing was becoming harder. She reached to open the window with her free hand.

The way Billie Dean had begun to stutter was concerning, and Wilhemina knew that way too well. She squeezed Billie's hand again, trying to get her attention. "And who can you count on?"

Brown eyes moved to Wilhemina again. Who could Billie Dean count on? The disgusted face Carmen and the makeup artist had done the night prior flashed in her mind. Billie frowned for a second before shaking her head. "That's not how i-it works."

It should be. But Venable wasn't going to say that; not in the state Billie was. She needs to calm down. Sense was going to be a priority some other time. "Billie Dean, we're almost there. If anything, you can blame being late on me." The simple offer caused the corners of Billie's lips to turn up slightly. She nodded, but her nervous state didn't allow her to say anything. The air coming from the window seemed to refuse to enter her lungs, and with a huff she reached to open it a little more. Wilhemina kept a close eye on her. "What's wrong?"

"I c-can't breathe properly." Billie Dean leaned closer to the glass, eyes closing as she tried taking deep breaths.

This is clearly an anxiety attack. Did Billie even know that? Venable knew it had taken a while for her to understand her own. I don't think another worry right now is a good idea. What could Wilhemina do? I need to distract her. "Uh..." Oh! "I'm looking forward to McDonald's today. What's your favorite thing there?" Venable's cheeks tinted at her poor attempt. Shame crawled in, but it was soon replaced with joy when Billie Dean turned to look at her with a glimpse of excitement in her eyes.

"Definitely the f-fries." Billie didn't have to think about it. And Wilhemina realized that, perhaps, she wasn't even aware she had been stuttering. "The ice cream i-is pretty good, too." She took another deep breath.

"I'm not used to fried food."

"Oh, but McDonald's fries a-are the eighth wonder," Billie Dean teased. "They never grow old. Literally."

"Uh?"

Billie Dean let out a laugh, and even though Venable didn't understand why, she was glad her stupid conversation seemed to have been helping. "Too many chemicals. That's what makes it taste so good, though."

"If you say so..." Wilhemina frowned. Billie Dean kept on smiling, eyes on hers. She should wear a ponytail more often. The blonde locks were gorgeous, but her face in display was even more. "What about the burgers?"

"They're fine. But the meat is... suspicious."

"Is this supposed to make me want to try it more?" Wilhemina held back a chuckle and arched her eyebrows. Billie Dean smirked cheekily, and they both let out a laugh. Their fingers bounced together, caressing one another.