Sibling spotlight - billie and Finneas story

Dressed for the spotlight

Chapter 9: Dressed for the Spotlight

The drive to the interview was quiet. Y/N sat in the back seat of the car, staring out the window as they sped through the city. Finneas was up front, scrolling through his phone, while Billie sat beside her, gazing down at her own notes for the day. The weight of the upcoming interview loomed over Y/N, but there was something else gnawing at her—something she couldn’t quite shake.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tugging at the hem of the cropped top she had chosen to wear. The outfit was completely different from her usual style—something more revealing than she was used to. The tight jeans, the cropped top, the way it showed off her midriff—it wasn’t her. But after all the comments about her appearance, the constant demands for her to be “more like Billie” or to show more skin, Y/N had caved.

Maybe this will stop them from saying anything.

If she looked the way they wanted her to, maybe they’d finally stop criticizing her for being too covered up or too modest. She felt like she couldn’t win either way. But as they got closer to the interview, she realized she’d made a mistake.

She didn’t feel empowered or confident. She felt exposed, like she was about to walk into a room full of people who would pick her apart no matter what. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her skin itched with discomfort under the unfamiliar clothes.

Billie glanced over at her sister, her eyes narrowing slightly as she noticed the way Y/N kept fidgeting, tugging at her top, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

“You okay?” Billie asked softly, her voice cutting through the silence.

Y/N forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just… nervous, I guess.”

Billie’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before she leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Are you sure? You’ve been pulling at your clothes the whole ride.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. She didn’t want to say it out loud, but the truth was gnawing at her. “I don’t know if I should’ve worn this.”

Billie raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Y/N’s outfit. “Did you want to wear it? Or are you wearing it because you think you have to?”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She knew Billie could see right through her. She had always been able to. “I just thought… maybe if I dressed like this, people would stop making those comments. You know, about how I’m too ‘boring’ or ‘covered up’ all the time. They always compare me to you, and I figured if I gave them what they wanted, maybe they’d leave me alone.”

Billie’s expression softened instantly, her eyes filling with sympathy. She reached out, gently resting a hand on Y/N’s arm. “Y/N, you don’t have to change yourself for them. You shouldn’t ever feel like you have to wear something just to shut people up. They don’t deserve that kind of control over you.”

Y/N looked down, biting her lip. “I just didn’t want them to hate me more.”

Billie shook her head, her voice firm but caring. “They’re going to say what they want no matter what. You could wear the most revealing thing or the baggiest clothes, and they’d still find something to criticize. That’s not about you—it’s about them. You have to wear what makes you comfortable. What makes you feel like yourself.”

Y/N’s eyes stung as she listened to Billie’s words. She had known that deep down, but it was so easy to get lost in the noise, to feel like she had to fit into the mold other people wanted for her. She tugged at her top again, the fabric suddenly feeling even tighter around her.

“I just didn’t want to stand out for the wrong reasons,” Y/N admitted softly.

Billie gave her a sad but understanding smile. “I get it. I’ve been there, trust me. But standing out because you’re being yourself is always better than standing out because you’re trying to be what they want. You can go back and change if you want. There’s still time.”

Y/N glanced at her reflection in the car window. The outfit felt wrong. It wasn’t her. It never had been. And suddenly, the thought of walking into that interview wearing something she didn’t feel comfortable in made her stomach churn.

“I think… I think I want to change,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.

Billie nodded, not even hesitating. “Then let’s head back. There’s no rush.”

Finneas, overhearing from the front seat, glanced back. “You good, Y/N?”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety swirling inside her. “Yeah… I just need to change.”

Without another word, Finneas directed the driver to turn around, heading back to their house. The tension in Y/N’s chest began to ease, just a little, as they made their way home. Billie squeezed her hand gently, offering her silent support.

When they arrived back at the house, Y/N quickly headed to her room, changing out of the outfit that had made her feel so exposed. She slipped into something more comfortable—her usual oversized hoodie and loose jeans—and felt an immediate sense of relief. The clothes felt familiar, like a piece of herself she had been missing.

She stood in front of the mirror for a moment, taking a deep breath. The reflection staring back at her looked more like the person she was—not the version the world wanted her to be.

When Y/N rejoined her siblings downstairs, Billie smiled softly at her. “That’s better. You look like you again.”

Y/N managed a small smile. “Thanks. I just… I wasn’t ready for that.”

“You don’t have to be,” Billie said, her voice kind. “You’re allowed to take things at your own pace.”

Finneas nodded from where he stood by the door, giving Y/N an approving look. “You good now?”

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit more steady on her feet. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

And as they left for the interview once more, Y/N felt a little more sure of herself—knowing that even though the world might demand she change, she had the power to choose who she wanted to be.