The bass from the speakers hums through the dimly lit studio, shaking the floor beneath your feet. Billie Eilish sits cross-legged on the worn leather couch, her neon green nails tapping rhythmically against a can of soda. She glances up at you, a slow smirk playing on her lips.

“You ever written a song at 3 AM just ‘cause it felt right?” she asks, tilting her head.

You shrug, sinking into the couch beside her. “Can’t say I have. But I’m guessing you have?”

She chuckles, tucking a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear. “All the time.” She nudges a notebook toward you. “Wanna try?”

The challenge hangs between you, the air thick with the scent of rain from the open window. Billie watches, waiting.