'Wait, you knew me already?' I confronted her. 'This is sick. I'm outta here.' I hastily put my top back on and made my way inside.
She clutched my wrist. 'Please let me explain, Billie.' I was having none of it, though. I gave her a stern look, 'L...
I started sobbing uncontrollably. I despised Max with every fiber of my being. The only thing was I hated myself even more because I was the one who was lying, and I knew I fucked up.
But honestly, in the beginning, I just didn't want to creep Billie out by being a fan girl. Suddenly, I couldn't get out of the lie anymore and was too scared to tell her because I didn't want to ruin our connections.
I really stopped caring about the fact that she was Billie Eilish. I know that sounds stupid, but in my head, she wasn't a famous person anymore, probably because we were so isolated from the outside world.
That was also why I was a little irritated after we went to town yesterday, and people recognized her. It made me realize the extent of her fame again and that what we had only existed in this house in a random village at the Atlantic. There was no Bobby outside this village, only Billie Eilish. Most importantly, there was no space for me in that outside world, especially not after lying to her, and I understood why it upset her.
I just really hoped we could have a conversation before leaving.
I exited the jacuzzi and pushed Max, who looked at me with puppy eyes, to the side.
"I hope you enjoyed your vacation because I won't speak to you ever again."
I lay down in my bed and stared at the ceiling.
Tears ran down my cheeks, and my breathing became faster. I pretty much just laid there and allowed my tears to stream down my face.
I didn't even feel like calling my friends at home, which I usually do at every minor inconvenience in my life, but I knew that every single one of them would tell me that I fucked up. And that's the truth.
I knew Billie wouldn't want to talk to me, so I picked up my phone and texted her. I didn't even think about what to say; I just wrote what I felt, hoping for a reply but honestly not expecting one.
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29th July:
-Lisa's pov-
I woke up early the next day, around 6 a.m., with a throbbing headache from last night. My head instantly replayed what had happened, realizing within a split second that it wasn't just a bad dream. My anxiety was real, let me tell you that.
„Fuck", I groaned and got up. I looked at myself in the mirror, and tbh, I looked very fucked up.
I went down into the kitchen and set up the table for breakfast. The rest of the group was still asleep, so I decided to walk on the beach. It was the earliest I got up this holiday, and I enjoyed the fresh breezes hitting my face, especially after yesterday's crying session, which made my face all puffy.
