Billie Eilish Imagines - GXG

Happy Birthday

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The bar was buzzing with laughter, the air thick with the scent of spilled cocktails and warm bodies pressed together in celebration. Y/N threw her head back, laughing as her best friend pulled her into a dramatic twirl. Tonight was her birthday-no responsibilities, no regrets, just drinks, music, and the people who had stuck by her side.

Then her phone vibrated.

At first, she ignored it, too caught up in the moment. But when she finally glanced down between sips of her drink, her breath hitched.

Billie: Happy Birthday.

That was all. No emojis, no follow-up message. Just a simple two-word text from the one person she hadn't expected-and yet, the one person who always knew exactly how to throw her off balance.

She stared at the screen, her fingers curling tighter around her glass. It had been a year and a half. A year and a half since late-night arguments turned into silent goodbyes. Since love had unraveled into something too heavy to carry. Since she had sworn she'd moved on.

"Y/N," her friend nudged her. "You good?"

Y/N hesitated for half a second before exhaling sharply. "It's Billie."

Her friend's playful expression faded into something more knowing, more serious. "Ignore it," they said firmly, snatching Y/N's phone from her hand and locking it. "You don't need that energy tonight."

They were right. Of course, they were right. So Y/N nodded, let out a laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes, and reached for another drink.

And another.

And another.

At first, it worked. The music felt louder, the room felt warmer, and for a while, she let herself sink into the comfort of being surrounded by friends. But then, somewhere between her fourth and fifth drink, Billie started creeping back into her thoughts. The way she used to hold Y/N's hand. The way she used to whisper I love you against her lips at midnight. The way she used to be hers.

"Be right back," Y/N murmured, pushing herself up from the table, barely hearing her friend's response as she weaved through the crowd toward the bathroom.

Inside, the bass from the music was muffled, and the world outside felt far away. She pressed her hands against the cool sink, inhaled sharply, then pulled out her phone.

Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard, the words forming before she could stop them.

Y/N: Why did you text me?

She hit send before she could overthink it.

Y/N stared at the screen, the alcohol making her head feel light, her thoughts heavier. The message had been sent. There was no taking it back now.

The seconds dragged.

Then—three dots.

Her breath hitched as she watched them appear, disappear, then appear again.

Billie: Because I thought about you today.

Y/N swallowed hard, gripping the sink for balance.

Y/N: Why?

Another pause.

Billie: Why wouldn't I? It's your day.

Y/N exhaled sharply, gripping her phone tighter. A lump formed in her throat, and she hated that Billie still had this effect on her even after all this time, even after everything.