The cold hit harder once the music stopped.

A few hours ago, you were screaming lyrics with thousands of people around you, your cheeks wet with happy tears while Billie Eilish stood under bright lights like she belonged there more than anyone else in the world. Now you were standing in a nearly empty parking lot at almost midnight, hugging your coat tighter around your small frame while your car refused to start.

“Again,” Lily sighed from the passenger seat.

“I am trying again.”

The engine clicked weakly before dying for the fifth time.

You dropped your forehead against the steering wheel dramatically. “This is actually the worst day of my life.”

Lily laughed. “Pretty sure you said this was the best day of your life like twenty minutes ago.”

And honestly? It had been.

You’d waited years for this concert. Years of listening to Billie’s music alone in your room at sixteen, headphones on while the world felt too loud and too confusing. Her songs had followed you through breakups, anxiety, late-night walks, and every version of yourself between sixteen and twenty-one.

Seeing her in real life had almost felt unreal.

The way she smiled between songs. The way she laughed when she forgot lyrics for half a second. The softness in her voice when she thanked everyone for coming. She somehow looked exactly like herself and completely unreal at the same time.

Pretty wasn’t even the word for it.

You looked down at your hands, still shaky from excitement and cold, freckles visible against your pale skin under the parking lights.

“Should we just call a cab?” Lily asked.

You groaned quietly. “Probably.”

The parking lot had emptied almost completely now. The distant sound of people talking echoed near the backstage exit, but you barely paid attention while pulling your phone out.

Then Lily suddenly grabbed your arm hard enough to hurt.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Oh my God,” she repeated louder.

You looked up, confused at first, before your brain completely stopped working.

A small group walking across the private side of the parking area near the black tour buses. Security. A few crew members. And in the middle of them, hands shoved inside an oversized hoodie, head slightly lowered against the cold, was Billie.

Your stomach dropped so fast it almost hurt.

“She’s literally right there,” Lily whispered aggressively.

“I can see that.”

You tried looking away immediately, not wanting to stare like some creep, but it was too late. One of the security guards had already noticed the two of you standing beside the dead car.

And then Billie looked over too.

For a second, you thought she’d just keep walking.

Instead, she slowed down.

Her eyes moved from Lily to you, then to the car with the hood slightly open. She said something quietly to one of her team members before stepping a little closer, her expression somewhere between concerned and amused.

“You guys okay?” she asked.

Your brain stopped functioning completely.

Lily, traitor that she was, stepped back and pointed directly at you. “Her car died.”

You wanted to disappear instantly.

Billie glanced at you again, and for a brief second her face softened in a way that made your chest tighten unexpectedly. Maybe it was the cold making your eyes water, or the fact you looked seconds away from giving up entirely.

“Damn,” she said with a small laugh. “That’s like… the worst post-concert luck ever.”