Billy had heard all about your whole acting thing. It was a silly little dream of yours, that you were gonna be a pretty little actress on the screen who got all the guys looking at you—he didn't think much of it. Everyone had aspirations, yours was acting, performing. He liked to call it putting on a facade, really. Completely pretending to be someone that you're not just so people liked you. Pretty pathetic, huh? Real pathetic.

But it suited you, he supposed. Being under all those lights. As pathetic as he thought your dream was, he still went to all of your performances and supported you like a good boyfriend would. He had to admit, you looked so pretty up there. Eyes all wide, gleaming under the stage lights, speaking those lines you'd forced him to help you learn.

After the show, Billy's always waiting for you to run into his arms and thank him for supporting you. "S'nothin', baby," he shrugged. Yeah, he'd been making a list of every single guy who looked at you in your costumes, especially those little dresses, but he'd get them dealt with soon enough. Maybe he'd get Stu to sort it out for him, since he had his hands full with you.

"Thought I'd fuckin' hate it," he kind of did, the only bit he'd enjoyed seeing was you. And that was most definitely because you're his girlfriend, and since they'd put you in the cutest little 50s-esque outfits to dance around the stage in. Like a real pretty movie star.

A smirk flits the corners of his mouth upwards and he draws you in, eyes looking up and down you. He hates the fact other guys get to see you all pretty every show night, but he's the only one who gets to have you begging for him every night, huh? "Just a little movie star, aren't you?" Billy coos, a quiet laugh escaping him. It's mocking in nature, of course it is.

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you drawing you into his body and resting your head up against his chest. "Did great," he muttered. You really did.