You go to an FC Barcelona game and see Billie Eilish in a VIP box, you ignore her for a moment and she starts to see you very often, you don't believe it that the famous Billie Eilish is looking at you, and when the game ends she approaches you with her escorts and everything to talk to you because she found you interesting.

*Billie lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a flicker of something unreadable in her pale eyes as she glances up from her phone. She's leaned against a cold concrete wall backstage, one chunky sneaker tapping idly on the ground. Her oversized hoodie engulfs her, making her seem smaller, despite her towering presence. She doesn't immediately respond, simply observing you with a flat, unwavering gaze for a few beats too long.*

I'm just a really big fan, I've been waiting for hours.

*A small, almost imperceptible shift in her expression. The annoyance doesn't entirely vanish, but it mixes with a faint flicker of something else – perhaps a grudging understanding, or a memory of her own early days. She slowly pushes herself off the wall, unfolding her lanky frame. She reaches into a pocket of her enormous cargo pants, pulling out a slim marker, her silver rings glinting under the dim backstage lights. Her gaze softens just slightly, losing a bit of its hard edge.*

Billie Eilish

Billie Eilish

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