Sibling spotlight - billie and Finneas story

Real

Y/N slammed her door shut behind her, leaning her back against it as she slid down to the floor, her hands shaking. The tears blurred her vision, and her chest ached like her heart was physically tearing apart. Why couldn’t she just get it together? Why did everything feel so heavy, so broken?

In the living room, Billie and Finneas stood in silence, their own frustration and helplessness simmering between them.

“We can’t keep going like this,” Billie whispered, running her hands through her hair, feeling just as lost as Y/N. “She’s spiraling, and nothing we’re doing is helping.”

Finneas sighed, pacing the room. “I know. But what do we do? We’ve tried everything, and it just feels like she’s slipping further away.”

They both wanted to fix things, to take away Y/N’s pain, but every attempt seemed to backfire, making her retreat deeper into herself.

---

Upstairs, Y/N sat on the floor of her room, staring blankly at the wall, her mind running through all the things she couldn’t say out loud. She was drowning, and they didn’t even see it. Not really. They were trying, but they didn’t get it. She wasn’t just frustrated about the music. It was everything. The constant noise in her head, the pressure of being someone she didn’t know how to be, the feeling like she was failing at every turn.

She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them, trying to hold herself together. Her breathing was shallow, and every time she thought about playing music again, she felt like she was suffocating. The one thing that used to make her feel free now felt like a prison.

She felt trapped, like the walls were closing in, and no one could save her from it—not even herself.

---

Downstairs, Finneas broke the silence. “I don’t think we should just leave her alone. But I don’t know what to say without making it worse.”

Billie’s face was etched with worry. “I know she’s mad at us for trying to sugarcoat things, but… I think she’s scared to face what’s really going on. She’s afraid that if she admits how bad she’s feeling, then it’ll become too real.”

Finneas stopped pacing and looked at his sister. “What do you think we should do?”

Billie hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing on her. “I think we need to be real with her, Finneas. No more pretending everything’s fine or that it’ll get better on its own. We need to have a real conversation, and we need to show her that no matter how messy or broken she feels, we’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

Finneas nodded, though a part of him was terrified of pushing Y/N further away. But he knew Billie was right. They had to stop tiptoeing around Y/N’s emotions.

“Okay,” he said. “But… we need to be careful. We can’t push too hard or too fast.”

Billie agreed, her voice soft. “We’ll be careful.”

---

Y/N wiped her eyes, her body numb from crying, when she heard a soft knock on her door. She tensed immediately, knowing it was either Billie or Finneas. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to face them, not when she felt like this—like a mess.

“Y/N?” Billie’s voice came through the door, quiet but steady. “Can we come in?”

Y/N didn’t answer at first, considering ignoring them altogether, but a part of her—just a small part—wanted to be near them. She didn’t want to be alone, not really, even though everything inside her was telling her to isolate herself.

“Please?” Finneas added, his voice softer, like he could sense she was about to shut them out.

After a long pause, Y/N sighed, her voice shaky. “Yeah… come in.”

The door creaked open, and Billie and Finneas entered, their expressions soft, filled with concern but not pity. Y/N hated pity.

Billie sat on the edge of her bed, leaving space for Y/N, while Finneas leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes on her but not in a way that felt too overwhelming.

For a moment, no one spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words, with tension and worry and fear.

“I know you’re mad at us,” Billie finally said, her voice calm. “And we’re not here to pretend everything’s fine. We’re not here to sugarcoat anything. But we’re also not going anywhere. No matter what.”

Y/N swallowed hard, staring at the floor, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

“We don’t expect you to feel okay right now,” Finneas added gently. “But we need you to know that whatever’s going on in your head, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, the weight of their words hitting her all at once. They were right. She wasn’t okay, and she didn’t want to admit how bad it really was. But hearing them say it—acknowledging the reality of it—made her feel a little less like she was suffocating.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know how to feel normal again.”

Billie’s heart broke at the sound of her sister’s voice, so raw and vulnerable. She reached out, taking Y/N’s hand in hers. “You don’t have to know. It’s okay to not be okay right now.”

Finneas moved closer, crouching down beside Y/N. “You don’t have to figure it all out today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Y/N nodded, tears welling up again. She wanted to believe them, wanted to trust that they could help her feel okay again, but it was so hard. Everything inside her felt so tangled, so overwhelming.

But as Billie squeezed her hand and Finneas sat beside her, she felt something shift. Just a little. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry it all alone.

For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to lean on them, just a little, as the weight of the world started to feel a bit lighter.