Billie Eilish Imagines

Thumper! (ONE PART ONLY)

"I swear that's Billie Eilish's car," I say.

I was in my friends car, we were driving through her neighborhood towards her house.

"Just because we live in LA and so does Billie, doesn't mean it's her house!" Kelly sighs and starts to steer with her knee.

I slump back down into my seat, "A girl can dream, ya know?"
    
Once we get back to her house, I pull out my trig homework and start to do a problem at her kitchen table. We've just started school, and I'm already getting drenched in homework.

"So, tacos tonight?" She asks.

I nod, "Turkey beef, right?" She nods, pulling the meet out of the sink. I've been on a kick lately, trying to eat healthier.
    
I would love to become vegan, or even vegetarian, but I don't think I could. Meat is just too good for me.

"So, how is the album coming?" She says as she stirs the meet.

I sigh and put my hair up in a bun, "You mean my imaginary album that's fucking amazing but will never actually become anything?"

She laughs and waves my comment away, "Shut up y/n, it will get somewhere. It's a badass album."

Of course it was an awesome album. I recently went to New York and met a producer. He liked what I was selling, and slipped me his number. Ever since then I've been working on an album called DontH8M3. It's based off of all of my fears, dreams, worst desires. After a while of working with him though, our ideas drifted to different places.

"We still have to go and take the cover picture this Saturday. Do you have your outfit picked out?" She asks.

Of course I do. I've been planning this for months now. "I'm not completely positive on it, but yes I have it at home."

There's a sudden banging coming from Kelly's room door.

"Shoot! Can you walk Thumper for me? I forgot to let her out earlier." She says in a panic.

"Don't worry, I'll take her out. Be back in a second." I say reassuringly.

Kelly tends to worry the most about the little things, so I try and make things less scary for her. A perfect example would be walking her crazy dog around the block for her.

I open her door to have the little fuzz ball come zooming out of her room, circling my legs. "Thumper! Let's go for a walk!"

She wags her tail excitedly as I clipped the leash onto her collar. Once we were out onto the sidewalk, she ran to each and every pole or rock in sight. I sigh and look up at the sky as the sun set.

I wonder what it would feel like to actually have someone like your music. I feel like my music is realistically good. I start to Softly song the melody of one of my songs I had recently finished.

Let them roam the city I know
These words are nothing left but stone, woah
Build fields and watch the flowers grow
Soon after that we'll call it home

I sigh and motion for Thumper to continue walking with me. The song was about fear for the future and pollution, not knowing what will come of the world. Once we round the corner, I come across the house.

I have perfectly good reason to suspect this is Billies house. For one, her car is literally in the driveway. Normal Dodge Challengers are not matte black, but this one is. I wouldn't have such a huge suspicion if it wasn't. I see loads of other Dodge Challengers, but this is the only one I see that is matte black.

I stop to inspect the small house. It seems so homey, like a great place to have a childhood at. I hadn't realized how softly I was holding onto the leash until Thumper escapes my grasp and starts to dart towards the house, running to the back yard. My eyes widen in horror,

"Thumper! Come back!" But by then it was too late, she has already found a hole in the fence to climb through.

I groan and start to walk towards the house. I can't believe I let her go. The worst part is, my dreaming will be over. The small part of me that knows this isn't Billies house, is now growing larger and larger by the second. I slowly drag my feet up the worn steps.

I don't usually like to walk up to random strangers houses and knock on their doors. There's a reason why I quit Girl Scouts. I hesitate before slowly knocking on the door. I could hear frantic footsteps coming from inside, and low whispering. After a minute, an older man with a mustache opened the door.

"Can I help you?" He says in a low, nice tone.