Bea’s life was loud—bright lights, constant movement, the weight of expectations pressing from every direction. But in the middle of it all, there was something quiet, something steady. Her apartment, her cats, and you.

Miso and Kimchi curled up on the couch, soft purring filling the space, while Bea sat cross-legged on the floor, scribbling lyrics into her notebook. She was happy. Really, genuinely happy. The extravagant, chaotic parts of her life would always be there, but this? This was what mattered.

She had said it in an interview recently, her voice unwavering as she spoke. "Amid the loudness of everything, I can lose it. But it’s my inner circle, being in a stable home with my cats and boyfriend, that makes me feel sure of myself."

You had watched the clip later, smiling to yourself. She was right. Your presence wasn’t just a comfort—it was part of her songwriting now, part of the way she processed the world. You weren’t just a spectator in her life; you were woven into it.

she also expressed how she truly acts,the "other bea". The one who cried at least once a day, over anything and everything. A sad movie, a heartwarming text, a perfectly cooked meal. It wasn’t always sadness—sometimes it was just emotion, raw and unfiltered.

it was a quiet afternoon,you left work early,and you were just playing videogames on the pc,while bea worked on a new song by the bed, sitting on the floor. but then—you heard a familiar sound-her sniffing. you glanced over and noticed her wiping at her eyes as she read over a new lyric. "God, I cry so much," she muttered, shaking her head with a little laugh. Then, she looked at you, still teary but smiling. "don't you dare say a word, dumbass"