Behind Closed Doors // Billie Eilish

Chapter 44

This chapter is going to be multiple days shoved into one chapter as to not have a bunch of short, choppy little chapters.

Monday

"You're trash." I tossed a piece of popcorn up in the air and caught it in my mouth.

"How the hell are you doing it that easily?" Billie asked as she tried to catch a piece of popcorn in her mouth again.

"It's called talent. You should get some."

"I should? But you're always talking about how you hate talented people." She raised her eyebrows.

"I really do."

"But—never mind." She shook her head, looking up at the window. Her eyebrows knitted together as she slowly slid off of her bed and made her way towards it.

"Is everything okay?"

She ignored me, setting her hands on the windowsill as she looks around.

"Billie?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, yeah," she said, sounding more sure the second time. She closed the blinds and curtains and then sat back down.

"Okay. Anyways, I had this dream one time..." I tilted my head confusedly as Billie stared at the window. "Billie?"

"Sorry." She shook her head. "I'll be right back." She walked out and the front door opened. I wondered what was wrong with her today.

Tuesday

"It was disgusting. I don't know why people drink that shit."

"Mm-hm. Sparkling water is terrible. One time, I was on tour and somebody kept buying sparkling water, and I don't know who. It was annoying as hell."

I laughed. Billie glanced up at her rearview mirror as she passed the turn to get onto her street.

"Uh... Billie?"

"Hold on." She glanced back up at the rearview mirror as a red car turned and sighed. "Okay. My bad." She went around the block and then turned onto the right street.

Wednesday

"School's trash." I shrugged, looking up at Maggie. "My grades are fine, but..." I shook my head. "It's school so... I hate it."

She nodded. "I don't like public school."

I laughed. "Yeah, me either." I looked around to make sure Billie wasn't around before turning back to Maggie. "What's up with Billie?"

She sighed, her eyebrows furrowing. "I'm not sure. She hasn't said anything to me about anything being wrong. I'm kind of worried."

"Me too. She's been off."

"She hasn't been paying attention to anything."

"Right." I nodded. "She's been really on edge. She did like two laps around the block before turning onto the street yesterday and she'll hardly go outside."

"Yeah. She won't let me open the blinds." She motioned towards the closed blinds. "Let me know if she says anything about it to you, okay?"

"Yeah."

Sunday

Billie slammed the front door shut behind her and leaned against it, her eyes searching the room frantically. I stood up and made my way over to her, flipping the light on. She crouched down, hyperventilating as tears stream down her cheeks. My heart jolted as I crouched down beside her. She held her hand out, shaking her head. "Stop. Just go for a second please."

I figured she was embarrassed. I stepped into the kitchen and waited until I could no longer hear her sniffling to go back. She was still sitting in front of the door with her head down. I sat beside her and pulled her head into my chest, kissing her forehead. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, grabbing onto my arm. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Bil. Don't apologize."

She sighed. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

She pulled away from me. "I think that somebody's been following me."

"Following you?"

"Yes," she said frustratedly and then sighed. "Sorry. Yes. I-I think that somebody has been following me and I don't know why. I've thought about everything. I just—I would say that maybe it's a fan or something wanting to know where I live or—or I don't know! But I think it's been going on for longer than I originally thought."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "I thought that maybe it was somebody who hates me or something and wanted to hurt me but if that was it, they would've done it already. They've had plenty of opportunities." She shook her head and then looked at me. "Maybe this is what they want. To drive me fucking crazy."

I sighed. I didn't know if somebody was following her or not but she seemed pretty freaked out and I wasn't gonna tell her she's crazy because maybe she's not. "Okay. Let's just think for a second." I raised my eyebrows at her. "Why would you want to follow somebody?"

"I wouldn't because I'm not a fucking psychopath!" She bit her lip and then shook her head. "I don't... I don't know! To hurt them. To figure out what they do, where they go, who they associate themselves with. To fucking terrorize them!"

"No... no. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's a mixture of those things. It could be somebody who doesn't like you and wants to terrorize you. Let's just say that, hypothetically, that's what it is. Maybe it's an influencer or somebody important who has a platform to make shit spread quickly. Maybe they need something to use to make people dislike you."

"What?"

"Okay, just think about it. What are the most important things to you."

"My family, my friends, and my music."

"Okay, and your fans, right?"

She nodded.

"Maybe somebody is trying to find something to—I don't know—sabotage that."

"Okay, but how would they do that?" She shrugged. "Obviously, there are a lot of people who like me. How's this one theoretical person gonna make a bunch of people dislike me?"

I shrugged. "It's just an idea. Maybe you're not being followed at all. I don't know. Anything's possible, but..." I thought for a minute. "Pictures."

"Maybe."

"Listen." I stood up. "You can't keep stressing yourself out with this. Get security cameras. Don't go anywhere alone. Don't do anything suspicious when you think people might be able to see."

She sighed. "Yeah. You're right. Okay." She stood up and kissed me. "Thank you."

I laughed. "For what?"

"For not thinking I'm a fucking lunatic."

"Oh. I definitely think you're a lunatic." I smiled. "But not because of this. I think it's important that people listen to you when you feel this way because it's a real possibility for you with your level of fame."