𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 - 𝐁.𝐄

nine - far

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julia.
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july 21st.

i pace around the bathroom, the cold tiles sending a shiver up my spine as my bare feet shuffle quietly across them. the room dimly lit by only the sun's natural light creeping in through the open blinds, casting long shadows on the walls. my eyes keep darting to my phone, where images of billie eilish and her family are taken from my own window and my own phone. i still can't fathom the fact that they're at my cottage, on my property.

my shuffles are quiet, careful, almost calculated as i make sure not to wake up claire. the soft sound of my feet dragging against the tiles feels deafening in the silence of the early hours. my heart pounds in my chest, and i can't shake the feeling that this all has to be some sort of mistake. it's too surreal, too impossible to be true.

i keep trying to convince myself that it isn't her. but every time i look at the pictures that i took, my heart skips a beat. its really her.

the ruffle of my bedsheets slaps me out of my head, i pause, placing a hand over my mouth to stifle the squeak that nearly escapes my lips. was i being too loud? i then hear the soft, familiar shuffle of claire's feet padding toward the bathroom door. i didn't even fucking lock it.

she twists the doorknob steps in, and i quickly set my phone down on the edge of the sink, trying to mask my expression with a neutral gaze. but i know i'm failing—i can feel the tension in my face, the way my eyes betray the secret i'm desperately trying to keep.

claire furrows her brows, clearly picking up on the awkward tension in the moment. "i thought you were downstairs," she says softly, her voice tinged with confusion. the way she just waltzed in had already told me she hadn't expected me to be in here at all.

i shrug, my voice flat, almost seeming forced. "uh... no, i didn't," i manage to reply, trying to play it off. but my heart is still racing, and i watch her as she moves to her bag, pulling out her toothbrush. should i tell her? the thought pounds in my head like a drum. should i tell her who's staying next door? maybe she forgot. she didn't wake up when i shook her. she must not care then.

as she applies toothpaste to the bristles, she catches my eye in the mirror. "olivia show up yet?" she asks, a faint smirk playing on her lips as she brings the brush to her mouth. well, safe to say she remembers.

i hesitate, the words tangling in my throat. do i tell her the truth? or do i just come out and say, "so close! billie eilish is literally next door with her whole family, and they're staying for the whole month"? or do i lie, say it's not her, and keep this secret locked away?

"uh, nope," i finally stammer, my voice shaky and uncertain. "...just some guy with his family," i add, the lie slipping out before i can stop it. i wonder if she can see right through me. claire always does. but maybe, just maybe, she'll buy it this time, since the idea of a celebrity even being here is so outlandish.

she shrugs, seemingly unfazed, pulling her hair into a messy makeshift ponytail before and spitting out some toothpaste. "i'll give you five bucks later," she mumbles.

i let out a small chuckle, though it's hollow, almost bitter. "no need," i say, though the truth burns inside me. if anything, i should be the one giving her five bucks. a celebrity is literally at my cottage, and here i am, pretending it's nothing. god how i hate lying. it feels as though i'd just committed a felony, which is why i never do it.

i can't stop picturing billie eilish in the living room where me and my parents used to spend hours on end just playing board games. billies angelic voice probably filling the same space where my family had laughed and argued over who was cheating. or maybe she's in the kitchen right now, the same kitchen where i shared meals with friends and family, where i felt safe and at home. fuck, she might even be sleeping in the room that was deemed as mine growing up, the bed where i laid my head down upon a soft pillow to rest, to dream little dreams.

—"my mom texted," claire says, cutting off my train of daydreams and wiping the corners of her mouth with a small towel. "she needs me home tonight 'cause family's visiting." i nod, understanding that she had to get going. she'll be back soon, no doubt. she always says that summers better with me there. she wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

the rest of the day is absolute torture. the knowledge gnaws at me until i feel like i'm going to explode. claire leaves, and with her goes my only distraction. the house is too quiet, the low hum of the tv downstairs doing nothing to fill the emptiness. i'm alone with my thoughts, and all i can think about is the fact that billie eilish is right next door.

i'm totally starstruck, and there's no point denying it. it's not just that one of my favorite singers is so close—it's that she's here, at my cottage, on my property. and what can i do about it? nothing.

absolutely nothing.

i can't just walk up to my own cottage and knock on the door, ask for even just a moment with her or a quick picture. i've been girl-crushing on this woman since i was twelve years old, and she's right here, so close, but yet completely out of reach.

i sound fucking crazy and like a stalker, but i can't help it. she's right there, and i can't have her. the thought keeps looping in my head, driving me insane. i actually sound fucking crazy. maybe i am crazy. now that's another thought that looms through my sea of concerns. 

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1039 words.
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