Haunted Melodies - Billie Eilish Story

Unwanted Attention

Unwanted Attention

The three of them were sitting on the park bench, wrapped in the peaceful stillness of the evening. The conversation had drifted off, replaced by a comfortable silence as Billie leaned against Y/N’s shoulder, and Finneas sat beside them, his eyes scanning the quiet surroundings. It felt like one of those rare moments where the world seemed to pause, giving them space to simply exist together without worry.

But that moment was soon interrupted.

Out of nowhere, a few voices broke the calm, followed by the unmistakable click of camera shutters. Y/N’s body tensed immediately, the anxiety they’d been holding at bay rushing to the surface. Paparazzi. Of course, it was only a matter of time before they were spotted—especially with Billie around. She was used to it, used to the constant attention and the questions that followed her everywhere. But for Y/N, it was different. The noise, the sudden invasion of privacy—it made their skin crawl.

Finneas noticed the tension in Y/N’s posture and quickly stood up, stepping between them and the group of photographers that had started to gather nearby. Billie, still leaning against Y/N, gave a soft sigh, her expression hardening. She sat up straighter, putting on that practiced mask she always wore when dealing with this sort of thing, though her hand stayed on Y/N’s knee, grounding them.

“Just ignore them,” Billie whispered, her tone calm but firm. She squeezed Y/N’s knee lightly, trying to reassure them.

Y/N nodded, trying to focus on Billie’s touch rather than the growing cluster of voices and cameras. But then, one of the paparazzi called out a question that sliced through the air like a knife.

“Y/N, making music again? I thought you were stopping due to, what was it, ‘personal issues?’” The voice was mocking, dripping with sarcasm as they emphasized “personal issues” like it was some kind of joke.

Y/N’s stomach twisted painfully, their mind racing with memories they didn’t want to think about. The anxiety they had fought so hard to control all evening now came rushing back in full force. Their hands clenched into fists, but they didn’t move, frozen in place as the words echoed in their head.

Finneas’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he shot a glance at Y/N, seeing the way the question had hit them. He knew better than to say anything that could escalate the situation—anything he said could end up plastered across the internet in minutes. But he couldn’t just let them mock Y/N like that.

Without a word, Finneas stepped toward the group, his tall frame casting a shadow over the closest photographer. His expression was calm, but his eyes carried a silent warning. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make his point. “That’s enough,” he said quietly, his voice steady, though the edge in it was unmistakable. He stared down the photographer who had asked the question, making it clear that they had crossed a line.

The paparazzi didn’t push any further—not when Finneas gave them that look. But they still lingered, cameras flashing, waiting for a reaction. Finneas held his ground for a moment longer before glancing back at Billie and Y/N. “You two should head back,” he said softly, his tone gentle now. “I’ll take care of this.”

Billie nodded, her hand still resting on Y/N’s knee. “Come on,” she whispered, standing up and gently pulling Y/N with her. “Let’s go.”

Y/N followed her lead, their mind still buzzing with anxiety, but Billie’s steady presence helped keep them grounded. They walked away from the bench, Billie’s hand lightly on Y/N’s back as they headed toward the park exit. Y/N kept their head down, trying to block out the flashes of the cameras and the distant murmurs of the photographers.

Finneas stayed behind, watching them go for a moment before turning back to the paparazzi. He didn’t say anything more—he knew better than to engage any further—but the look in his eyes said enough. The photographers seemed to get the message, though they continued snapping pictures as Billie and Y/N disappeared from sight.

Once they were far enough from the park, Billie let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “You okay?” she asked, glancing at Y/N, her voice softening again.

Y/N nodded, though their chest still felt tight. “Yeah,” they mumbled, their voice barely above a whisper. “Just… didn’t expect that.”

Billie’s hand slipped down to take Y/N’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “They’re idiots,” she said, her tone firm but laced with sympathy. “Don’t let them get to you.”

Y/N gave a small nod, appreciating her words but still feeling the weight of the comment from earlier. They tried to shake it off, focusing instead on Billie’s hand in theirs, the warmth of her touch. It helped, even if just a little.

As they made their way back home, the streets were quieter, the chaos of the paparazzi left behind. Billie walked close to Y/N, not saying much but keeping a comforting presence beside them. They both knew Finneas would handle the situation, and that he’d catch up with them soon.

When they finally reached the house, Billie unlocked the door and led Y/N inside, the warmth of the home instantly wrapping around them. The quiet was a welcome contrast to the noise outside, and Y/N let out a slow breath as they stepped into the familiar space.

Billie turned to face them, her eyes soft with concern. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently, though she didn’t push.

Y/N shook their head, still too overwhelmed to find the right words. “Not right now,” they mumbled, their voice barely audible.

Billie nodded, not pushing any further. “Okay,” she said softly. “Just… know I’m here if you do.”

Y/N managed a small smile, grateful for her understanding. They sat down on the couch, their body still tense, but the comfort of being home started to ease some of the weight in their chest. Billie sat beside them, her presence steady and reassuring, not saying much but always there.

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the evening slowly lifting as they waited for Finneas to return. And as the quiet settled around them, Y/N leaned into Billie’s side, taking solace in the quiet moments they still had together.