Their Games Had No Meaning // Billie Eilish

chapter one

It was soft under my hands. Not quite silky or smooth but still, it felt like a gentle caress. I trailed my fingers up and down, feeling the ripples of the sheet. It was comforting to wake to such a pleasant texture.

My eyelids finally fluttered open, taking in the pale grey walls and the soft morning light that had just begun to filter through the shutters. The way it lit the room reminded me of soft evenings and warm summer breeze.

Summer time is a brutal clash of emotion for me. On one-hand, the pure joy and love that the beach, blue skies and sun brings is enough to make everyday a day in paradise. On the other, the loneliness that comes with the picture perfect days is sometimes debilitating. Families on walks, couples on picnics, it all fills me with a bubbling sense of disappointment and wonder.

Rolling to the side, I glance at the clock on my bedside table.

8:17am.

Not bad for me. Not bad at all. For someone that has always struggled with sleep and early mornings (not that i would consider 8:17am particularly early), I was happy to see that I wasn't going to be wasting another day with my eyes closed to the world.

After too many more minutes fighting the urge to close my eyes and succumb to the grogginess trying to pull me back into sleep, I slowly sat up. Rubbing my eyes, I rose and slowly wandered to the open wardrobe at the back of my bedroom. Choosing outfits used to be a major stress for me but recently I've overcome that and have come to enjoy setting myself up for the day with clothes that make me feel me.

I have a simple taste and one that quite honestly, screams gay. Which I don't particularly mind since that is just another part of who I am.

Pulling on a pair of white washed jeans and a basic black singlet, I ventured further into the apartment.

I have only recently moved out on my own, finally leaving the comfort and ease of my family home behind in chase of some independence. My family of five are angels but eventually living on top of each other as adults causes tensions to grow. Fortunately for me, they are great supports and my mom enjoyed decorating my small home even more than I did.

My apartment is perfect. A small two-by-two with the spare bedroom converted to a miniature recording studio. The kitchen is the perfect size and my living room is simple and cozy with two couches and a soft rug. The white and grey tones compliment the light wood finishing and the area is fill with light and plenty of greenery, mostly courtesy of my mom and sisters interior design skills.

I shouldn't be surprised considering it is literally their job. Mom opened her business when I was young and my sister developed the same keen eye for detail. Since she graduated high-school, the two of them have become quite the dynamic duo and have some pretty noteworthy clients.

However, my keen attention to the little things definitely does not translate to design aspects but instead is put to use in my music. Music is what a live for. It seeps out of every pore and fills my every moment with light and sound. Without music, I have no idea where I would be or what I would be doing.

Early on in my life, I dreamt of playing sold out arenas and hearing thousands of people sing my songs back to me. That dream changed.

Now, I find comfort and security behind a mixing board, a guitar or a piano. Well, basically any instrument really. My voice is okay. Good enough to sample songs and provide backing vocals but my belief in my own ability vocally faded as i grew into adulthood and faced the harsh reality of the music industry.

Fortunately creating music means so much more to me than singing. Which is exactly why my at home recording studio is my favourite room in the apartment. I don't often have artists come and record here but it is where all of the mixing and instrumentation is done.

This is a space that has grown from its old room at home and become my happy place.

I slowly make my way into the room, flicking on the lights and heading for my chair behind the desktop in the middle of the room, bowl of cereal in hand.

Munching on the spoon of frosty flakes I just shovelled into my mouth, I switched on the screen, seeing the beginnings of the song I had been working on the night before pop up. It wasn't my favourite piece and certainly had a long way to go before it was complete but I was liking where I was going with it.

I have only been working with a few new and upcoming artists at the moment. I decided years ago to never work beneath a label after my unpleasant experience with them as a young artist. This allowed me so much freedom to do exactly what I wanted with artists but it did make it difficult to be noticed by any bigger artists.

Flicking across to my emails, I scrolled to the bottom of my unopened folder and slowly made my way to the top. A few emails here and there from my current artists with ideas on songs we had in the pipeline, along with a few from managers asking for updates on time-lines. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The final email sat at the top of my inbox was from an address that I didn't recognise and the subject bar simply read 'HELP US (please).'

Laughing lightly at the humour in the title, I read through the email.

"Hi,

Please excuse the subject line but genuinely, we do need help.

My name is Finneas O'Connell and I make music with my little sister Billie.

She is unbelievably talented and I know she has what it takes to really make it but I don't know how to help her.

I've attached a file with a song that we have written and produced but I just know its missing something and I think you can help us. I've listened to the music you have been producing and I think you will be the perfect fit for us.

Billie is so incredibly special and I don't want to let a big music label turn her into something she isn't and I don't know how to guide her myself.

Please let me know what you think.

Regards,

FINNEAS.'

Moving my cursor to the attachments section of the email I clicked on a file simply titled "Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish".