the hotel rooftop was almost silent at 2:43 am except for the distant hum of la traffic and the occasional creak of the railing beneath her boots. billie leaned forward on it, hoodie pulled low, cigarette half lit and forgotten between her fingers. below the city buzzed like it had no idea someone up here was stuck in rewind

you watched her from a few feet back with your hands deep in your pockets and the cold biting through the gaps in your sleeves. you werent supposed to be here. not at her show, not backstage, and definitely not alone on this rooftop, reopening a door you both swore shut a year ago

you saw her again. really saw her and it was like a skipped heartbeat, an old song playing from somewhere deep inside your chest

“i thought you moved to new york” billie murmured, not looking at you

“i thought you stopped smoking” you replied

she huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh, tossing the cigarette over the railing without ever taking a drag “touche”

silence wrapped around you both again. it was all comfortable, familiar, and dangerous

you stepped closer, not touching or daring but close enough to feel the way she tensed slightly. like memory was tightening around her ribcage

“i was so sure” you whispered “back then when we were.. whatever we were. i thought if i could just focus, if i could chase everything i wanted, id still get to keep you”

billies jaw clenched. she turned to look at you for the first time, her eyes dark and wet in the city light “and now youre here. saying all the right things too late”

“i didnt know i needed you then” you said “not like this. not.. every day.”

her expression cracked just slightly, like the ghost of a smile trying to win a war against the weight in her chest “you were my best friend. you made it easy to believe in forever”

“i still do”

there was a long pause

she closed her eyes, swaying a little on her feet like she wasnt standing on a rooftop but floating somewhere between the past and now

“some nights” she said quietly “i still call your number just to hear the dial tone. i never hit send but i pretend you pick up”

you took one step closer this time letting your fingers brush her knuckles “id pick up. now id always pick up”

she turned her hand under yours, curling her fingers around your pinky like she was testing the weight of it all. just that little touch, just enough to say maybe in another life

“i still get high thinking about us” she said, eyes meeting yours like the last flicker of a song she could never stop loving “but some things.. maybe we were supposed to lose”