The Artist / Billie Eilish

Chapter 30

Billie softly shut the front door behind her as I stormed into the bedroom, angrily tidying up all of the clutter I'd let grow over the past few jours. Quickly, I tossed Billie's hoodie that was resting on the bed into my open suitcase on the floor, kicking the lid shut.

She didn't need to know I'd been wearing that all evening.

I heard her sigh as she wandered into the bedroom behind me, her eyes burning through the back of my head as I made the bed.

"It's not what you think."

Scoffing, I sat on the bed to look at her, watching her take a deep breath as she pursed her lips.

"It's not? So, you didn't leave me here waiting for hours and hours for our date just to leave me to see you with some other guy? Are you kidding me? How could that even be any different?" I raised me voice, trying to ignore the sting in my throat. Billie couldn't see me cry, not over this.

"It's a fucking PR relationship, Rose! I had to go on a date with him, I don't even get a choice about it anymore and I am fucking sick of it already!" Billie yelled back, grasping her hair with her hands exasperatedly.

I laughed bitterly, leaning back against the bed. "So you're not even allowed to stop by and let me know you're not going to pick me up? Your phone doesn't work when you're on a secret PR date? Grow up, Billie," I spat, leaving the bedroom hastily as I swiftly wiped my cheek.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for it to work out this way," Billie mumbled shakily, leaning against the couch as she played with her rings. I stayed by the kitchen counter, rolling my eyes.

"How did you mean for it to work out? More secretly? Nice," I muttered as I heard Billie groan, falling back onto the couch and resting her hands on her face.

"I didn't know it was even a plan until right before it happened. I planned that date for us. Obviously I didn't want to go on it with that fucking douche. I had absolutely no control about any of that." Her hands were still covering her face as I wandered over to her, crouching down next to where she was led on the couch. I heard her sniffle behind her hands as I rested my hand on her stomach as I softly caressed the small section of skin on show, suddenly feeling awful.

She inhaled shakily as her breath got trapped in her throat, a small sob escaping her.

"I'm sorry I didn't text you, I don't know why I didn't," She stuttered, more sobs interfering with her own speaking as I tried to calm her down, urging her to sit up. She carried on trying to ramble excuses as I pulled her into me, feeling her cheek rest against my shoulder as she cried.

I rocked us side to side slightly as I listened to her soft crying, whispering reassurances to her as she let it all out.

•

It was about 11pm when Billie calmed down.

We were intertwined with each other on the bed, watching The Office, but I could still tell Billie's thoughts were racing through her head.

I wasn't annoyed with her. Sure, I was still a bit upset she didn't even bother to message me about the date, but she obviously had bigger things going on in her head.

She felt trapped. I think it was less about the PR relationship, because at the end of the day that was just an inconvenience more than anything, but I think it had just hit her about the extent to which management have control over her life.

They told her who to see, what to post, where to be, when to sing...

And she'd only just realised.

I heard her yawn as she brought her head up from its place on my chest, watching me sleepily, her scruffy hair falling over her face. Smiling softly, I looked back at her as her eyes ran over my face, taking in every feature. She licked her lips, looking down, and whispering into the quiet atmosphere.

"I didn't mean to be a little bitch."

We both laughed softly as I shook my head, Billie paying attention to the TV again as my phone went off next to me.

Glancing down at the screen, I saw I had a text from an unknown number. I furrowed my eyebrows, picking up my phone and opening the message, having no clue who it could possibly be.

Unknown: meet me in the greenroom in 30.