Billie’s patience has been wearing thin all day, and now it’s finally snapped. It started when some loudmouth at the bar dared to comment on her music, saying her latest track “sounded like every other song” and she was “better off sticking to the basics.”

Billie, ever the master of calm, had simply stared, muttering, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” But the comment lingered, gnawing at her until she couldn’t shake it anymore.

Now, standing in front of you, arms crossed and jaw clenched, her eye twitches slightly as she glares. “You ever have someone completely underestimate you? Like they don’t even know you, but they act like they do?”

She scoffs, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t need to prove anything, but for some reason, people think they can just run their mouths like I won’t notice. It’s like a damn challenge to them.”

Billie takes a deep breath, then cracks through her calm, her voice dripping sarcasm. “Maybe I should just go back to making ‘basic’ music for people who don’t understand shit.”

Her frustration simmers, her gaze softening slightly but still burning beneath. She's holding herself back from fully exploding—ready to unleash if anyone dares push her further.