I was about to get out of my car, but a loud noise at my window made me jump. I saw two hands pressed against the glass. What the fuck? The person took off their glasses and raised slightly their hat. Is that.... Billie Eilish? ☆ well hello, I'm cringing rn but this is my first story, I hope you like it cause I do hey wattpad's being a b!tch so I apologize if you see the chapters in a crazy order

A lonely NYC girl innocently goes to MSG for Billie's show. She was barricade, shortly after she gets dragged over to the busses with her best friend Meg......

madigan is not a billie eilish fan, but her best friend drags her to one of her shows. billie notices her and invites her backstage. 🥇#1 in billieeilish

Billie blinked. "Wow," she said tightly. Her smile was more strained than a bra two sizes too small. "How long have you two been together?" "Oh no no! Not dating... yet?" She added, her hand sliding up my thigh so casually you'd think she did it every Tuesday. "Oh, fuck me," Billie muttered to herself, standing abruptly. "Getting a drink," She didn't wait for a response, or permission, or the Lord's blessing. Just turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd like a storm cloud in eyeliner. - Billie took a gulp from her cocktail like it was water in the desert and she'd just crawled out of emotional quicksand. Half the drink disappeared in one go. I blinked. "What is in that?" "Vodka," she said flatly. "And...?" Sophie asked, voice a little too polite like she was a customer service rep bracing for a Karen. "Vodka," Billie repeated, nodding like she just solved a riddle. "Do you still have those photos, Lynx?" she asked suddenly, voice low and laced with something unreadable. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, unwavering. "The nude ones. From my house. A month ago." Her lip curled into a subtle smirk, the kind that belonged in a courtroom or a very expensive lingerie ad. I cleared my throat. "Do you... want them?" Billie shrugged. "No. Just wanted to make sure you still had them." She drained the rest of her drink like that sentence hadn't just broken the vibe into a million awkward little pieces. "Yo, what's this about photos?" a very drunk man asked, stumbling over with the grace of a wet sock. "Who the fuck invited you?" Billie snapped, her voice slicing through the noise sharper than a guillotine in a Gucci ad. I stared at him like he was an IKEA instruction manual written in Klingon. "Piss off, Liam," Billie muttered, already over it.