you were sitting on the roof of someone elses house. some actors afterparty or some directors glassy mansion in the hills but it felt like nowhere. your heels were off, your drink was warm, and billie sat beside you with a half lit joint in her fingers and eyes reflecting the city like it belonged to her and bored her all at once

"you lose your phone again?" she asked without looking at you

you shrugged "yeah. or maybe i threw it. who knows anymore?"

she exhaled slowly, the smoke curling into the air between you like a question neither of you had the nerve to ask "you showed up to the last three parties alone"

"so did you" you said softer than you meant to

she looked at you then with her makeup smudged and hoodie too big "we keep ending up like this like were not looking for anything but still pissed off when we dont find it"

your laugh cracked open something in the air "thats being twenty something right?"

"no" she handed you the joint "thats being us"

you leaned back on your elbows, staring at the sky "my mom thinks im spiraling, my manager thinks im golden, and everyone has a version of me i dont even recognize anymore"

"and which version are you with me?"

you didnt answer right away. you took a hit and let it burn a little as billie watched your silence like it meant more than words and maybe it did

"the one who wants to kiss you just to feel something" you finally said "and then run before i remember it"

she turned toward you, closer than shed been all night and her hand grazed your thigh, not by accident

"so kiss me" she whispered "and forget me tomorrow"

you didnt answer. you just leaned in, reckless and aching, with the city pulsing behind you and a thousand strangers trying to feel something too and somewhere in the blur of it all, the rooftop, the smoke, and her lips on yours, you wondered if breaking each other was just how twenty somethings learned they were still beautiful