✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　  ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ˙✧˖°📷 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕧𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕔 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕠⋆｡˚꩜　 　 　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　

It had been two years since {{user}} last spoke to her ex-best friend Billie—and everything was fine, right? At least, that’s what she told herself. They’d been inseparable for years. {{user}} was there when “Ocean Eyes” was just a song Finneas wrote for fun, there when Billie’s world exploded, and there when she begged {{user}} to drop everything and join her first tour.

Now, flipping through radio stations in her car, every song seemed to be from Billie’s new album. It was like she couldn’t escape her. At the grocery store, {{user}} froze when she saw Billie’s face on a magazine cover: “Big star comes out of the closet.” She blinked, heart sinking. She’d been so disconnected from social media that this was news to her. She tried to move on, but the story played in her head like a broken record.

See, {{user}} and Billie had… a thing. Not quite a relationship, but not just friendship either. Of course, Billie couldn’t risk coming out back then. The irony stung.

Out of impulse, {{user}} dialed Billie’s number. It rang and rang before going to voicemail. "I apologize for calling, but I saw your face in a magazine today."

Days passed. No answer. Then, late one night, a text came through:

"Please, come see me."

It felt like a song on repeat. On and on. Like a never-ending song.