Sibling spotlight - billie and Finneas story

parents pt2

The doorbell rang, cutting through the quiet tension that had settled in the house. Y/N jumped slightly, her heart racing. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to settle. She could do this. She could fake it for a few hours. It was her parents—they wouldn’t be able to see through her, right?

Billie stood up from the couch, exchanging a brief, loaded glance with Finneas before heading toward the door. Her steps were deliberate, as if she were walking toward something that could shatter the delicate balance they had been trying so hard to maintain. Y/N watched her go, her throat tight with anxiety.

She could hear the door open, the familiar sounds of her parents’ voices filling the air. They were laughing, chatting easily like nothing was wrong. For them, nothing was wrong. She had worked so hard to make sure they didn’t know.

Billie hugged them both, her smile wide and genuine, though her eyes flickered back to where Y/N sat. “Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. Come in.”

Finneas stood up next, walking over to greet them, his expression warm but strained. He was trying, like Billie, to keep it together for Y/N’s sake. But she could see the worry in his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Y/N took a deep breath, standing up slowly. She plastered a smile on her face, pushing down all the turmoil inside her, and walked over to join her siblings.

“Hey,” she said, her voice a little too high-pitched, a little too forced. “It’s good to see you.”

Her mom beamed, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh, sweetheart! You look so good! We’ve missed you.”

Y/N hugged her back, trying to keep her breathing steady. “I missed you too,” she whispered, though the words felt hollow in her mouth.

Her dad ruffled her hair as she pulled away from the hug. “Look at you, kiddo. You’re getting taller every time we see you.”

She laughed, though it was more out of habit than anything else. “I don’t think I’ve grown much since last time,” she said, her voice light, almost playful.

They all moved into the living room, her parents settling down on the couch while Billie and Finneas exchanged another brief, uncertain glance. Y/N sat down as well, folding her legs underneath her, her hands clasped tightly in her lap to stop them from shaking.

“So,” her dad said, leaning back and stretching his arms out across the back of the couch, “what have you kids been up to? Anything exciting?”

Billie jumped in quickly, eager to steer the conversation away from anything that might put Y/N on the spot. “Well, I just released a new song a few days ago,” she said with a grin, glancing at Finneas. “Finneas helped me with it, of course.”

Their parents’ faces lit up. “That’s fantastic!” their mom said, clapping her hands together. “We’ve been listening to it non-stop. It’s amazing, as usual.”

Finneas chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, Mom. It was a fun one to work on.”

Y/N stayed quiet, her smile frozen in place as the conversation flowed around her. She felt like she was floating above it all, watching from a distance as her family talked and laughed. She wanted to join in, but every time she tried to open her mouth, the words stuck in her throat.

Instead, she found herself retreating into the background, her mind drifting. She had gotten too good at faking it. Too good at putting on this mask of normalcy, of happiness. But it felt so fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.

She forced herself to tune back in when her mom turned to her, her expression full of affection. “And what about you, Y/N? How’s everything been going with you?”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh, um… things are good,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve been… you know, just working on stuff.”

Her mom smiled, nodding. “That’s great to hear. We’re so proud of you, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of her parents’ expectations pressing down on her. She didn’t feel like she was doing well. Not at all. But she couldn’t let them see that. She couldn’t let them know how broken she felt inside.

Billie and Finneas kept the conversation going, telling their parents about various projects they had been working on, sharing stories and jokes. Y/N chimed in occasionally, but she mostly stayed quiet, nodding along, her smile never quite reaching her eyes.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself slipping into a strange kind of autopilot. She was acting younger than she was, more childish, as if reverting to a simpler time when things weren’t so complicated, when she didn’t have to worry about fame, or pressure, or the overwhelming weight of her own thoughts.

Her parents didn’t seem to notice, but Billie and Finneas did. They saw the way Y/N was acting—too bubbly, too eager to please. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t real. But for the sake of keeping up appearances, they let it slide.

It was only when their parents finally stood to leave that Y/N felt a small sense of relief wash over her. She had made it through. She had faked it well enough, and they hadn’t seen through her act.

“We should do this more often,” her mom said as she hugged each of them goodbye. “It’s always so good to see you kids.”

Her dad clapped Finneas on the shoulder. “Take care of yourselves, alright? And Y/N, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

Y/N nodded, her smile tight. “I will,” she lied.

Billie and Finneas walked their parents to the door, exchanging hugs and goodbyes before they finally left, the door closing behind them with a soft click.

As soon as they were gone, Y/N let out a long, shaky breath, her entire body sagging with exhaustion. She felt drained, completely wiped out from the effort of pretending everything was fine.

Billie turned to her, her eyes full of concern. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded weakly, though her head was spinning. “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just… tired.”

Finneas came over and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “You did good, Y/N. You held it together.”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I hate this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I hate having to pretend all the time.”

Billie sat down beside her, pulling her into a tight hug. “We know,” she murmured, stroking Y/N’s hair. “But you don’t have to pretend with us. Not ever.”

Y/N rested her head on Billie’s shoulder, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. She wanted to cry, to scream, to let it all out—but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not while the mask was still so firmly in place.

For now, all she could do was hold on, hoping that one day, she wouldn’t have to fake it anymore.