NEEDY - B.E. IMAGINES

break up with your boyfriend*

gxg sub!billie as promised ;)

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You didn't know how you ended up at the party. You couldn't remember who invited you, or what invisible force pushed you into walking up the all too familiar steps. And yet, here you were, surrounded by Billie's friends like it was something you were used to.

The sounds of overlapping voices and music echoed in the living room. The lights were dimmed, a few stray lamps illuminating the space with a gentle glow that made the get together seem homey and intimate.

Despite everything, you still felt out of place. Ostrasized. Almost uncomfortable. You didn't know her friends enough to mingle among them like you belonged. The music was unfamiliar, the laughter a little too loud. One of the lamps near the TV flickered, as if it was warning you. You hated the way your temple pulsed in response.

The drink in your hand didn't help. You couldn't tell if it was too strong, or not strong enough to drown out the conversations bubbling around you–the ones you tried to pry yourself into, and, just as quickly, get yourself out of.

You pulled up a chair to the coffee table, needing to sit down but not wanting to stray away from the party. A circle had started to form around Billie, who was sitting on the couch, legs neatly crossed, holding a glass with both her hands with a certain gentleness you've never seen her showcase before. You slumped down on the chair, settling just outside the rim of the crowd. Close enough to listen, but far enough to make it seem like you weren't.

The night had passed like this, teetering on the edge of fitting in, yet never fully being able to. You hated the back and forth of it all, like there was something tugging you in opposite directions.

You let a soft breath escape your lips, vanishing into the mild air. The noise was quiet, barely noticeable. Just like you had been all night.

You leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees, drink hanging lazily from your grip on it. Your eyes fixated on the corner of the carpet–worn on out the edges, a few loose threads sticking out.

Your head grew a little heavy, the way it always did when you drank; your mind hazing over with a translucent fog, your tongue bearing weight as it darted out to wet your lips. You let your head fall between your shoulders, trying to enjoy the buzz of alcohol swimming through your bloodstream before it faded away into numbness.

"So, Billie, tell us about that new guy you've been talking to."

Your body tensed; shoulders arching back, muscles coiling, jaw clenched so tight it sharpened like a blade. Your pulse hammered in your ears, almost like it was trying to brace you for whatever you were about to hear next.

You swallowed hard, thickly, your throat bobbing as you did.

You turned your head ever so slightly, just to see the faint outline of Billie's silhouette, framed by the shoulders and heads of people in front of you. You hated that she looked different than she usually did. You hated that she pulled it off so fucking well.

She hesitated for a moment, mouth parting to speak before clamping shut, like she was sifting through a series of possible and acceptable answers to the question. The room seemed to go quiet, everyone's attention focused on the host, anticipation filling the space like it was personally invited.

Her fingers tapped against her glass nervously. You heard the way her rings clanked on the half empty cup, the sound filling the air like an unspoken truth. She smiled, and it almost looked genuine.

"He's great. Like, really good."

Billie's friends took in the information like it was the best thing they've heard all year. Chatter exploded, voices fusing into one giant incoherent jumble of words and sentences. Your grip on your drink tightened, leg involuntarily bouncing as an angry fire burst into flames inside your chest.