misery || b.e

jealousy

it felt like her heart skipped a beat, a rush of something entirely unfamiliar coursing through her. billie hadn't seen him in years, not since a brief meeting at some industry event when she was still too young to fully belong in those spaces. but she'd never forgotten it.

jesse rutherford wasn't just another artist to her. he was the artist — the one she'd grown up listening to, the one whose voice had soundtracked so many moments of her teenage years. he was the first artist she'd ever admired in that raw, unfiltered way that felt almost personal. his music had been a lifeline, a comfort, a spark of inspiration that shaped so much of who she was as an artist herself.

she remembered the first time she'd heard the neighbourhood's music, how their haunting melodies and jesse's voice had felt like they were speaking directly to her. she'd spent hours lying on her bedroom floor as a teenager, headphones in, dissecting the lyrics, letting his voice drown out the noise of her world.

she'd gone to their concerts, too — blending into the crowd, just another face in a sea of fans, her heart pounding as jesse commanded the stage with a magnetic presence she couldn't tear her eyes from. he'd been her idol in the purest sense of the word: unattainable, otherworldly, a figure she never imagined she'd ever get close to.

and now, here he was.

for a moment, billie forgot where she was, forgot the cameras, the crowd, the expectations. all she could do was watch as jesse turned slightly, his profile catching the light in a way that seemed almost cinematic. he was laughing at something someone had said, his smile as magnetic as she remembered.

her heart raced. she wasn't a kid anymore, wasn't the girl who had idolized him from afar. but standing here now, the memory of that admiration rushed back with startling intensity.

one of her team nudged her gently. "billie, they're waiting for you to move."

she blinked, snapping out of her daze. "right. sorry."

she moved forward, her steps slower, more deliberate. her mind was a whirlwind, the ache of y/n's absence still lingering but now mingling with the unexpected rush of seeing jesse. she wasn't sure what she was feeling — nostalgia, admiration, curiosity, or something else entirely.

as she posed for another set of photos, she risked a glance in jesse's direction. to her surprise, his eyes met hers. for a split second, the noise and chaos around her seemed to fade, the world narrowing to just the two of them.

he smiled.

it wasn't the wide, polished grin of someone performing for cameras. it was subtle, almost secretive, like it was just for her. her breath caught in her throat, her pulse roaring in her ears.

she wasn't used to feeling this way — nervous, unsteady, like her footing had been pulled out from beneath her. she forced herself to smile back, hoping it looked natural, though inside she felt like she was fifteen again, wide-eyed and utterly overwhelmed by the mere sight of him.

the moment was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had come. jesse turned away, drawn into another conversation, and billie was ushered forward once again, her team guiding her through the rest of the red carpet.

she stole another glance in jesse's direction. he was talking to someone now, his head tilted in that easy, confident way he had, his hands moving as he spoke. she couldn't hear him, but she imagined the sound of his voice, low and smooth, like the songs she'd memorized by heart.

part of her wanted to laugh at herself. she was billie eilish, for god's sake. she wasn't supposed to get flustered like this. but here she was, her palms damp, her heart racing, her thoughts spinning in circles.