what you can't have (b.e.)

daisy

inspo: daisy, ashnikko

~

You don't wanna see me bratty...

Billie's POV:

"I can't go out there-- I'm not going to," I cross my arms, turning my chin so no one can see me cry. I don't break down anymore, not where anyone on my team can see. I don't trust anymore, I don't even give out first chances.

"Is it because of your legs? We can adjust--"

"I said no," I snap and get up from my chair, fighting through the pain so I walk instead of limp away. I can hear footsteps behind me so I slam the dressing room door and lock it. I don't want to hear what everyone's gonna say, the people that came here to see me, that I can't just not go out.

I don't have excuses. I just have my reasons. And the number one is that I just don't want to.

I hear voices outside the door.

'Billie, you're at the peak of the career, don't throw that away'

'She's just being a moody teenage girl, this is why they don't belong in the industry'

'She can hear you--'

'I don't care. She acts as if everyone doesn't know she cries herself to sleep over that girl. It's time for her to get over her before she makes a bad name for herself.'

"FUCK ALL OF YOU!" I scream against the door. I breathe heavily, kick the door, strut back to my chair only to see my reflection in the mirror, perfect lighting. I can see everything, what no else does.

My phone rings and I don't look, just pick it up. They're really going to try and call me after I heard everything they said outside the door? Maybe I'm sad but I'm not fucking stupid or naive or whatever they think.

"Not interested," I say my version of hello. I wait for someone to go off on me, wait for the speech before every show, but I just hear breathing.

"Billie."

Mila.

"What do you want?" I try to make my voice disinterested, but I lean forward, hand shaking. It was getting to the point where I forgot the sound of her voice. I hate the power she holds just by saying my name, but she'll never understand that, because I'm the hero, apparently. Starting to feel more like the anti-hero here.

"I--," she starts laughing, and I don't have to see her to know what that laugh means.

"You're fucking high, right now. Aren't you?"

"Well--" I can hear her already a few steps ahead, trying to play it off.

"Don't lie to me," I stop Mila before she can go on with this.

"Okay, yes. But just listen, this affects you, you have to listen," I can feel her hypnotizing me and pulling me back in. I look in the mirror, I won't let this happen all over again.

"I think I've already said everything I had to say. And so have you, so forget my number, cause I've already forgotten you," I sound convincing enough and start to pull the phone away from my ear.

"Billie, this isn't about us. It's--"

I hang up the phone. I toss it on the table and unlock the door, stepping out and everyone turns to look at me, paused.

"Why is everyone just fucking standing there? I'm about to go on," I roll my eyes, ignoring the sighs of frustration. It's always good to keep everyone guessing and a little afraid.

Five minutes later, I hold the microphone, chains swinging as I walk out of the dark onto the stage. I bite back my smirk as the lights flicker.

Make your man call me daddy..