𝟕𝟑

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(One week later)
Billie's POV

"So what's gonna happen?" I asked Danny.

We were currently sat down in my the music room at my parents' house discussing the plans for the album release.

"You'll do a small tour first, play a couple of shows at a few venues and festivals, perform a few singles off the new album, more promo, more red carpet events, and as much press as possible. I mean we really need you to promote the hell out of this album. The label is paying for all expenses as far as the billboards and ads go. But that money has to be made back, you know that. So if the album does well, you'll know you did your job and you've got nothing to worry about. The label will trust you more. Give you more creative freedom. And of course, if the album flops-" "I'll kill myself." I cut Danny off.

He laughed at me softly. "If the album flops, which it wont, but in the case that it happens, the label wont allow to make the same mistake again. They'll be in more control of your music as well as your public image so I need you to really just milk the hell out of the character that is Billie Eilish." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, slightly offended.
I'm a human being, not a character.

This album is supposed to be a representation of me and everybody who relates to me and the human emotions that I feel. Me. Not some character.

 "What he means, Billie, is like.. m-more dark clothing, more goth jewelry, more talking about depression and anxiety. Covering more dark subjects. Just things that most artists in this day and age are too afraid to speak on. Things that separate you from the competition, makes you unique. Definitely lean into the more creepy side of things too, though. A lot of people see you as this dark, sad, scary kinda person. What, with the spider's in your mouth and the whole 'I wanna end me' thing, you didn't actually expect people to assume you were all rainbows and sunshine, right?" Brandon questioned me.

I guess not.

I stayed silent and processed what would be my life for the next month.

Back to back shows in cities I've never been to.
 Interview after interview after interview.
Fucked up sleeping schedule.
Promotions.
Posts.
More fans.
More money.
Less free time.

And then the album comes out.

And things will only get busier from there.

"No pressure or anything." Justin added.
"We just all feel like you should be pushing harder now more than ever."
"Yeah, you and Finneas, I mean you guys really need to lock in and sort of create a routine where like you'll wake up in like Chicago or where ever your at on tour and feel like 'alright, this is what's going to happen today, this is what's going on tomorrow, I'm going to push through it, deal with it, and enjoy it' y'know. Just so that you're not dreading your mini tour and-"

"I like what Justin was saying though." I muttered while biting my thumbnail.

"What did Justin say?" Eric asked.

You would've heard him if you didn't talk so fucking much.

"No pressure." I repeated Justin.

"Oh yeah, absolutely, no pressure."
"Right."
"I mean you guys can still keep your own pace, we don't really care how you do it, as long as you get to the finish line. Alright?"

"Mhm." I hummed.

Lisa looked concerned.

Like she had something on her mind.

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲?Where stories live. Discover now