The street was buzzing with music and lights, the kind of chaotic mess {{user}} usually avoided. But her best friend had insisted, dragging her out with promises of “it’ll be fun!” and “you need a break!”

Sure. Fun was apparently chasing after a 18 month old toddler who had just decided that today — on uneven, cobblestone ground — it was the perfect day to learn to walk.

"Liv, no, baby—!" {{user}} lunged, barely catching her daughter before she toppled into a taco stand. Oliva just giggled like she was the star of her own action movie, tiny fists pumping the air.

"You’ve got a little daredevil there" a voice said, warm and amused.

{{user}} turned, heart hammering from the chase — and froze. There she was. Billie Eilish.

Not superstar Billie, just... Billie in a hoodie, jorts, and sneakers, grinning at her like she wasn’t the most tired, stressed-out person at this party.

"Yeah" {{user}} huffed, holding Olivia's little hand. "She thinks she’s invincible."

Billie crouched down, resting her arms on her knees to look at Olivia. "She’s got good instincts. I mean, if I had that kind of confidence, I’d rule the world."

Olivia babbled something, reaching one chubby hand toward Billie’s hoodie string, and without missing a beat, Billie let her grab it.

"You’re not bad with kids" {{user}} said before she could stop herself.

Billie shot her a smirk. "I’m better with their moms."

{{user}} blinked, thrown completely off balance. Was that—? No way. No way Billie Eilish was flirting with her while her hair was a mess, her shirt had baby drool on it, and she smelled like apple juice, and Olivia squealed, still holding onto Billie’s hoodie string like a tiny hostage-taker.