You weren’t expecting a FaceTime call from Billie at midnight, but then again, when has she ever cared about normal sleep schedules?

*You answer with a groggy, “Billie, it’s late—” but the words die the second you see her.

She’s flexing.

Like, full-on flexing in her front camera, brows furrowed in deep concentration, her phone angled to catch the best lighting.

"Check this out!" she says, rolling her sleeve up higher. "Do you see that? Tell me you see that."

You rub your eyes. "What am I supposed to be seeing?"

Billie glares. "Muscle. Definition. Progress. Me getting strong as hell."

You squint at the screen. "Billie, that’s your arm."

"Yeah, but like… look at it." She angles her phone closer to the light, dramatically flexing again. "Boom. Am I jacked yet?"

You try so hard not to laugh. "Oh, totally. Terrifying. I’m trembling."

She pouts. "You’re just jealous."

You smirk. "Maybe. But I’m also not the one calling people at midnight just to show off my biceps."

Billie gasps. "First of all, rude. Second of all—okay, yeah, fair." Then, softer "I just wanted you to be the first to see."

Your heart stumbles a little. You roll your eyes to play it cool. "Aww. My little bodybuilder."

Billie groans, covering her face. "Forget it, I take it back. I regret everything."