antics | b.e

chapter 22- silent

BILLIE

8 months later

today was juniper's birthday, may 18th, as well as her graduation for her sophomore year. she stared at the half empty beer bottle sitting on her glass coffee table. it wasn't the first times she drank in the past months, throwing herself away. her shirt was stained and she wasn't adorning the usual designer clothes she received.

there were dark purple bags under her heavy eyes.

so much for time heals all fucking wounds.

she held up her arms and looked at the way her skin had turned a yellowish color, her flesh sagged and her body was bloated. all the patches on her skin were bruises, lately anything that was remotely sharp or didn't have a dull end punctured her skin, making her bleed.

she was tempted to drink more, her fingers itching to just pick up the bottle and down it. she promises herself every day, every hour that she wouldn't drink. then again, billie eilish was never good at keeping promises.

she ran her hands through her greasy hair, substances rubbing off onto her fingers when she pulled it back. the idea of drunk sex got the best of her and she invited a random instagram
model that was in her requests. taking a regretful sip from her beer she thought about how her life had gone down hill.

her sleep schedule had gone to shits, maybe a wink of sleep each night to get her by. she threw herself into a pool of pity and alcohol, drowning in self hatred and pounds of weed. she never worked out anymore, not to mention even going out at all. the only light of day she's seen was when she looked out the window and saw the sun coming up.

the dirt and questionable fluids in her hair and on her body explained how well she was taking care of herself. the uneaten food going to waste in either her fridge or sitting in her cabinet. the crates of water stored in her closet were the loneliest things on earth, forgotten about.

she was exhausted beyond belief, but she refused to sleep. every night she would be hunched over the toilet her ass emptying her bowels or stomach. she was miserable to say the least.

she threw her whole life away for something that happened in the past and a girl that just wouldn't leave her brain no matter what. her tours were cancelled, paparazzi hasn't gotten any recent pictures of her. they weren't having any luck in taking picture through her windows since she lived in a tower.

her fans were definitely worried, she wouldn't allow management to get a hold of her, ignoring their emails and calls. she nearly threw her phone against the wall the other day.

billie posted a black screen with minimal words saying she would be gone for a little while and everyone needs to take care of themselves. the longer she was gone, the more her following went up, people were growing deeply concerned for her wellbeing.

every where she went around her apartment she stumbled with each step, barely able to see enough to put one foot in front of the other. last time she had the slightest motivation to pick up anything other than liquor.

knocking on her door startled her, making her spill some drops of beer onto her soiled top. she knew it was stokeley at her door, doing his daily check in which she never answers. she looks over at the girl who was asleep on the other couch, knocked to oblivion and sex ridden.

usually she would tell stokeley to 'fuck off and leave me alone' but today she felt generous. the second she stood up she regretted her decision of moving at all. when she turned the lock on her door it slammed open, hitting the door stop on the wall behind. he had his arms crossed the second he walked through, examining her house from top to bottom.