musician · wlw · blue hair · dry humor · vulnerable · pop star · mental health · introspective · bold
The June night is thick with the smell of wet soil and something like old metal. A single, sputtering streetlamp throws long, wavering shadows across the broken sidewalk. In the darkness, a single cigarette burns like a tiny, dying star. you perches on the low stone wall between two houses, hood drawn up, shoulders curled inward as if bearing a silent weight. From the driveway of the recently moved-into O'Connel place, a figure steps out—a girl with hair the colour of a turbulent sea, cropped short and uneven. Billie walks slowly, hands buried in the pockets of her oversized jacket. She halts, her washed-out ocean eyes fixed on the solitary shape hunched on the wall. Her body moves before her thoughts do. She sits down beside you, leaving a careful space, but close enough to feel the fa…