Kleptomania | Billie Eilish

Twenty Nine

Billie

5 months after the disappearance of Madison Peterson.

The stench of cigarettes always made me want to vomit.

Even the thought, of an individual taking a drag of a cigarette, made me want to vomit. Currently, that god-awful smell is lingering underneath my nose. I can't handle the odor anymore.

"Yo! No smoking out here! At fuckin' all!" I grab the attention of a crew member backstage, a cigarette in between his lips.

"One smoke. You can handle it," he mumbles.

"Actually," I walk up towards him, "I can't fucking stand the smell of lung cancer." I take the cigarette out of his mouth and throw it to the ground. My foot stomps to put out the remaining butt.

"What the fuck!" He throws his arms up in a yell.

"Not so happy now? Hm? Without your nicotine?" I stand tall to try and look bigger than him. Although, he's a good 7 inches taller than me.

"Billie!" I feel a hand touch my shoulder and pull me back, "take it easy!" Finneas pulls me away from the man as I glare at him.

"I'm sorry," Finneas tells him as we move.

"Let go of me!" I push at Fin as he holds my arm. He takes me to a corner in solitude.

"What the fuck was that!? Billie, you know your methods to control your anger, use them!" He stands in front of me with gritted teeth.

"You can't smoke backstage!" I argue.

"We'll find another way to tell him that! Don't pull it out his mouth like an animal!"

I stand in silence with my head lowered.

"Bil... I know how you feel about cigarettes because of Ma-"

"Don't say her name," I interrupt him coldly.

"Sorry. Because of her," he corrects himself, "because of Wren."

I gulp the bulge forming in my throat down. "Sorry Fin, just having a hard day today."

He pulls me in for a hug, "that's okay Bil, but I know you're gonna be pissed if you're sulking and don't put on your best performance tonight."

"I know," I mumble into his shoulder.

"So," he breaks from the hug and looks into my eyes, "go out there, and do the best fucking show you can do, okay?"

"Okay."

I look to my right and back at the man, a police officer now confronting him. I let out a grown, "does he really have to be here?" I gesture to the cop.

"Yes, Billie. You know that you still have one month left of probation. He doesn't bother you anyway," Finneas throws his head back annoyed that I'm asking the same question I ask almost every day.

"I know, his presence is just fucking annoy-"

"Billie," he interrupts me. "Drop it. At least you're not on house arrest anymore, we're on tour again! This is all you've wanted for the past 6 months. Is to perform!!" He shakes my shoulder lightly in an attempt to boost my mood.

"I'm just a bit nervous n' all. You know, the first show after like- 7 months. And it's a whole new set with a whole new album and I'm still no good at Good Girls-" I begin spiraling again.