Everything I Wanted

Goodbyes - 40

By the time they landed in Brisbane, everything felt heavier — the air, the silence, even the smiles. The post-Sydney buzz had faded into something quieter, something bittersweet.

Story stood by the hotel window, watching the city lights scatter across the skyline. Billie was behind her, sitting on the edge of the bed, absently spinning the ring on her finger. Neither of them had said much since the drive from the airport.

"You leave tomorrow?" Billie finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Story nodded. "Yeah. My team wants me back for final rehearsals and press before the album drops."

Billie gave a soft, breathy laugh — the kind that wasn't really a laugh at all. "That's crazy. It feels like you just got here."

"I know." Story turned, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I wasn't supposed to stay this long."

Billie looked up at her then, eyes bright and unguarded. "I'm glad you did."

The space between them shrank as Story sat beside her. For a moment, neither spoke — just the sound of the city through the balcony doors and Billie's steady breathing next to her.

Story picked at the hem of her hoodie. "These past few weeks..." she started, searching for the right words. "I don't think I've ever been this happy on tour — even when it's not mine."

Billie smiled softly. "Me neither."

There was something different in her tone — something honest and a little scared. Story felt it in the way Billie's hand brushed against hers, fingers tracing lazy patterns across her skin before curling between them.

"Billie..." Story whispered, unsure if it was a warning or a plea.

But Billie just looked at her, eyes flicking down to her lips, then back up again. "I know," she murmured.

And then she leaned in.

It wasn't rushed or messy. It was slow, careful — like they both knew they'd remember it for a long time. Billie's lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly like mint and something sweet. Story's hands found their way to Billie's face, her thumb brushing against her cheek as the world fell away.

When they finally pulled apart, Billie rested her forehead against Story's. "You're gonna kill it," she said, smiling weakly.

"Don't make me cry," Story laughed through a shaky breath.

Billie squeezed her hand. "Promise me you'll text when you land?"

"Only if you promise to answer."

They sat like that for a while — fingers intertwined, the night humming softly around them. Neither wanted to move. Neither wanted it to end. But eventually, Billie stood, walked her to the door, and pressed one last kiss to her temple.

"Go be a star, Belle," she whispered.

Story smiled, blinking back tears as she stepped into the hallway. "I already met one."

The door clicked shut behind her, and for the first time in weeks, she felt the weight of goodbye settle deep in her chest.

✨

The Los Angeles air felt heavier than she remembered — that warm, electric kind of air that smelled faintly of coffee, car exhaust, and ambition. As Story stepped out of the terminal, the buzz of conversation and the rolling wheels of suitcases filled the background. Her eyes scanned the crowd until she spotted her mom, Laurel, waving from the curb with an iced coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.