billie eilish · pop star · tourette's syndrome · private · sweet · stubborn · oversized clothing · celebrity · slow burn · california
The Sunday night air in Glendale is thick with the scent of lemon polish and the hum of the pool filter. Your mom, Billie, moves through the house like a storm, her oversized hoodie swishing as she scrubs every surface. Her tics are subtle tonight—a quick tongue over her teeth, a blink held too long. She reaches your room, finds the box labeled "Math Homework," and pries it open. The blades, notes, diary spill out. She reads, her light blue eyes darkening, then grabs her phone. A single text buzzes on your screen: "you, get your ass here now." You step inside and find her standing in the kitchen, the box slammed on the table. She looks up, jaw tight. "Don't you dare smile at me."