Kleptomania | Billie Eilish

Ten

(TW: Heavy domestic abuse and use of homophobic slurs.)

Maddie

The moment I stepped inside my house after Billie dropped me off was the moment my heart stung. I was not looking forward to returning home after tonight.
I slip off my shoes at the front door and immediately head upstairs to wash up. I'm soaked in seawater and I feel that sticky feeling from when you get home from the beach.
I made it home just in time for curfew, it's around 11:30 pm. My mom has strict rules about me coming home on time, even though I turn 18 next month. It doesn't bother me much though, I'm not out a lot anyway. I don't know where she is in the house however, I'm assuming upstairs in bed. My father, most likely out at a bar.

I run a shower. I let out a long breath as the hot water washes away the sea salt. I forgot how satisfying that feeling is.
After, I stare at my reflection through the bathroom mirror. Steam covers the majority of the reflection of my body which is now dressed in a large sweatshirt and shorts. I begin to think about kissing Billie tonight and how fucking stupid that was. I told her I was confused that night at the party, which was true. But my emotions overcame those feelings of confusion and resentment. I know that I don't regret kissing her, but it was selfish of me to.

I stand by my open window and light a cigarette. As the nicotine enters my veins, my nerves seem to calm down. I should stop relying on smoking when I feel anxious, but I guess it's better than lifting.
I remember once Billie told me she hates smoking, and she's never been intoxicated. Which I heavily envy. I wonder what she would think of me, sitting here, smoking a Marlboro, and thinking of her lips. She would probably laugh.

I reflect of Billie singing on the beach earlier, singing her song! That's fucking insane! I don't think I've heard someone sing live so beautiful and raw. I damn near almost shed a tear watching her, closing her eyes and swaying to concentrate on the music. Now that I think of it, I should listen to her shit.
I open up Spotify and search, "Billie O'Connell," in the search engine. Nothing shows up except for the words, "do you mean Billie Eilish?" I click on the profile and there lies a photo of Billie sitting underneath a red ladder above some track titles of a vast variety.
I guess this is her, is Eilish her stage name? Possibly her middle name? I'm not sure, I question my thoughts.

I scroll through the only work she has out beside a few singles, don't smile at me, an EP. There I see the familiar title, ocean eyes which she sang at the beach. I start at the beginning with COPYCAT and connect my phone to my speaker. But I keep the volume on a low to try not to wake my mom.
I already fuck with this so hard.

I listen to about 2 songs which both are just phenomenal while taking drags from my cigarette. Smaller thoughts float through my mind like how I'm not at all excited to be working a double shift tomorrow at K-Mart and Chloe's Goods, an ice cream parlor down the street that opens for the summer. At least working will help me get out of here by fall, that money is my top priority right now.
I focus mainly on the music though, I mean, the only thing I want to focus on anyway.
Halfway through my boy, I hear footsteps coming from down the hallway outside of my bedroom so I  put out the cigarette in the ashtray beside me. My mom walks in only dressed in her bathrobe.

"Hey," she greets me quietly, "how was the beach?"
She sits on my bed which is to the left of me.

"It was fun," is all I say.

"I appreciate you coming home on time."

I nod, "of course."