by Bryce Oakley
She was so charming.
Pia looked as if she wanted to hug her.
Billie’s heart clenched. It was hard to watch Vero entrance others after what she had done.
If Billie was so important to her, why hadn’t she called?
Zoey sighed, watching the video. After hearing what had happened with Lara, Zoey had admitted to the misunderstanding. In Zoey and Domino’s defense, the last official text on the matter of her and Vero had said no, that nothing was happening between them.
Granted, Domino had heard the full story the second Billie had landed back in LA.
Zoey should have known better, but she was repentant, which made Billie faster to forgive her.
“Do you think she’s talking about you?” Meg asked, leaning on the arm of the couch.
“As a great love of her life? We were together for like, a week,” Billie said, trying to downplay the intense feelings.
Even just hearing the idea of Vero loving her made her stomach flutter. Damn those butterflies. She thought she had killed them all with whiskey and beer in the past few weeks.
“She can’t be talking that calmly about an ex like Lara, though. They had a terrible breakup,” Billie added, staring down at the screen. She had the urge to rewind it and play it seventeen more times.
She could hardly avoid Vero De Luca now that Vero was back on top with a hit single.
Her Instagram was full of smiling selfies and behind the scenes photos of interviews and publicity outings.
Not that Billie checked Vero’s Instagram. Every day. Multiple times a day.
…With a fake account to watch her stories anonymously.
She absolutely did not do that.
She also absolutely had not watched Vero’s interview on Grip’s social media and nearly dropped her phone when she called out The Shrikes first album.
Did. Not. Happen.
“Good for her,” Domino said. “We got lucky, because we were already out when we hit it big. Well, except for you, Zoey. But we had the band behind us. So coming out and owning that wasn’t as weird because everyone who knew us already knew. Three gay ladies — and Zoey — making the music.” She grinned.
“Sure, yeah, zero offense taken about hearing that you don’t think I make music in the band or anything,” Zoey teased.
“It is easier to know that ours so much less fanfare. It’s hard to come out as an adult, and especially when the entire world knows your business,” Meg added.
Billie nodded. “I’m proud of her for talking about it so confidently,” she said, trying to say the words without tearing up.
Zoey rubbed Billie’s back affectionately, resting her head on Billie’s shoulder. Her golden curls brushed Billie’s face, tickling her. “I’m proud of you,” she said. “I hear ‘Undone’ everywhere. And I know you don't like it and you won’t listen to it, but it’s so good. It’s this sad song, right? But it makes me so happy to hear it because I get excited to think of you falling in love.”
Meg nodded. “I can’t help but smile when I hear it, too,” she confessed.
Domino laughed. “Thank god, because I thought I was the only one. It’s a bop,” she teased.
“You know, I still don’t think I’ve heard the whole thing?” Billie admitted. “We wrote it in this rush and haze. I barely remember it.”
“Do you want to hear it?” Dom asked, watching her carefully.
“I don’t know yet. Maybe alone. Where I can cry in peace,” Billie joked.
“Like we haven’t seen you cry,” Zoey said, rolling her eyes.
“I think she may be the least prolific of our band members in the tears department,” Meg said, nodding sagely.
“What? No, I’m not,” Billie said defensively, looking from each woman’s face to the next.
Dom pressed her mouth into a thin line. “It’s true. You just feel your feels, but on your own time. Nothing wrong with that.”
“You’re the most in-control person. You’ve got every the situation handled,” Zoey said.
“Unless you’re watching a cute animal video,” Meg added.
Billie scowled at them both.
“Oh, that’s true. She does always cry at those,” Domino said with a laugh. “Like remember how much she sobbed when that raccoon washed his cotton candy in the water and it disappeared?”
“I thought one of your family members died when I walked in,” Zoey said, laughing.
“I feel attacked,” Billie said with mock-seriousness. “Why is everyone ganging up on me?”
“Because you’re our fierce leader. You’re so fierce that I think we forget that you are a tender little soul under there. Until cute animal videos are on, of course,” Domino said.
Zoey nodded. “You always have everything handled. So, it’s a nice change to be able to take care of you for once,” Zoey said.
Meg nodded, putting a hand on Billie’s knee.
“I love you guys,” Billie said, leaning into the group to wrap her arms around as many of them as she could.
“We love you, too,” Domino exclaimed with a cheesy fist pump into the air.
* * *
Billie sat at the table, wrapped in a sweater to shield off the early winter “chill” — an appalling 60 degrees — in Hermosa Beach. She was plucking out the notes to a new song, humming along with her eyes closed. The sun was streaming in through the windows.
Heartbreak was a damn good muse.
It had been two months since Vero had broken her heart, and the pain was still so raw and so real. It didn’t help that she saw pictures of Vero everywhere, and heard snippets of their song every time she turned on the radio.
“Why am I still missing you?” She sang quietly. “Why do you haunt my dreams?”
Domino walked in the back door, carrying a takeout bag for lunch. “Chinese food to make us forget that we’re missing the AMAs tonight!” They were avoiding the American Music Awards given that Vero would be in attendance. Childish, but her bandmates understood — and also thought that awards shows where they weren’t nominated were horribly boring.
Billie paused when she saw Dom.
-tab-“New song? For some other very deserving pop diva?” She asked, setting down the Chinese food containers in front of Billie.
“Nope. It’s a Shrikes song,” Billie said, scribbling down a verse before she forgot what she had just played around with.
“Really?” Domino said with an excited clap. “Show me!”
“I don’t have much. You heard it,” Billie confessed, setting her guitar aside in favor of food.
“You’re ready to write for The Shrikes again?” Domino asked.
“Yeah. I think I psyched myself out about these songs not being the right fit for the new album. The best part of a new album is that we’ve grown up. We’ve evolved. Felix taught me to trust my instincts,” she said, opening up the cashew chicken container.
“Wow, first name basis with Felix Lucas,” Domino teased, dishing some rice out onto her plate.
“He’s like, shockingly normal? Like just a dad,” Billie said with a laugh.
“Like our dad?” Domino asked with a grin.
Billie had a vision of their dad geeking out over woodworking and birds in the backyard.
“No, maybe not like our dad, per se,” Billie laughed.
“It’s just funny to me to think of him as a real person who wears sweat pants,” Dom said. “Tell me he wore sweat pants.”
“I don’t remember sweat pants… but I did see him carrying a backpack. Like a dorky one that’s way too structured because they’re worried about their devices,” Billie said, shaking her head.
“Classic dad backpack,” Domino repeated, considering it with a grin.
“So, back to the important thing. You’re writing music for us again?” Domino said. “I guess that means I should help you. Or be more inspired to help you. Or have any ideas to bring to the table.”
“It’s okay. You’ll be ready when you’re ready,�
�� Billie said. “This heartbreak is really doing wonders for my creativity. Do you have a heart that needs breaking? Women who won’t call you back?”
Domino stared down at the table with a strange look on her face.
“What’s up? You okay?” Billie asked.
“I need to tell you something,” Domino said slowly.
A hint of dread clenched at Billie’s stomach. “Okay,” she said slowly, eyeing her sister.
“That night that all of it went down with Vero, I did something,” Domino said. “I was only trying to protect you.”
Ice ran through Billie’s entire body. From the look on Domino’s face and the earnestness in her voice, Domino had really fucked something up.
“Vero called, and I answered. She thought I was you. I told her to never call again, and then I blocked her number on your phone. I also added an email filter so that if she were to email you, it’d go to a secret folder,” Domino said, swallowing audibly.
Billie’s heartbeat pounded in her temples. “You did what?” She said, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I was only trying to protect you,” Domino said.
“You ruined any chance we had at resolving this. Of figuring out what was really going on,” Billie said. “You’ve sat next to me as I cried about her not calling me or contacting me. This wasn’t just some fling of a girl who you had a one-night stand with, Dom. I loved her.”
“I know,” Domino said, her head hanging. “But I was only trying to protect you.”
Billie stood, setting down the takeout container in her hands. “You fucked up,” she snapped, grabbing her phone and walking out of the room.
Three extremely frustrating minutes later, she walked back into the room and handed her phone to Domino. “Undo it,” she demanded. She had been trying to figure it out, but to no avail. Domino handed the phone back after only about ten seconds of swipes and changes.
Billie’s hands shook as she stared down at her phone.
Then, she pulled up Vero’s contact, and after staring at the screen for another moment, she pressed the green button.
Chapter Twenty
Vero
Vero sat at her apartment with her father, Elena, and Jack. They had flown out the second she told them she fired Justin and Jill.
Her father’s manager had temporarily stepped in to help her with the specifics of discussing relationships with Pia the morning of the show, so that Pia wasn’t blindsided on-stage.
In the end, the show was taped for the day after it appeared, with — to Pia’s producer’s credit — tasteful hype for Vero owning her new solo career and her own identity.
That evening was the American Music Awards, and she was nominated for New Artist of the Year and Favorite Song Pop/Rock. It was an honor to be nominated for anything, especially since she found out that The Shrikes had won New Artist of the Year when Heart’s Content had released.
She’d do anything to make herself feel close to Billie again. She wondered if Billie had read the interview with Grip, or had seen the videos, or had watched her interview with Pia.
Would she be proud? That Vero was living her truth?
Or did she not care at all?
Vero looked down at her phone, willing Billie to call her. To just give her one last chance.
Now, she had her first big event since the interview, and she knew people would ask her about it. Reporters on the sidelines of the red carpet were ruthless. She had gotten good about dodging strange questions over the years, but she was still thrown off fairly often.
At least she wouldn’t be getting any angry calls from Jill.
The event started at 5pm, and her red carpet arrival time was fairly early, given that she was a newer artist. Artists like Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande would be arriving later, closer to the show’s startingtime.
She wasn’t performing — not having an official manager had really confused the producers of the show, it seemed — but being nominated for two awards was exciting in and of itself.
“Want to practice your award acceptance speech?” Jack asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Vero laughed. “You know that’s bad luck,” she said, quoting her father, who had always told her the same thing whenever she had asked.
Felix laughed. “Of course it is,” he said, nodding. “But, do you want to practice anyway?”
Vero raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m not jinxing it!” She said with a grin. “Stop being a bad influence.”
Elena was holding up nail polish samples to Vero’s deep teal gown. “Should we match or compliment?”
“Match,” Felix said.
“Compliment,” Jack said, at the same time.
“I agree with Jack. Let’s go dark,” she said. Her stylist team was on their way, but had forwarded along samples since Vero wanted some say in what she would be looking like.
“Whatever happens, we’re proud of you,” Felix said.
Vero looked around the room at her little family. They had raised her the best they could, and in her opinion, they had done a damn good job of it. She started to tear up, but looked to the ceiling. “Don’t make me cry or I’ll go splotchy,” she warned.
“You’ve worked so hard,” Elena said. “And we love you no matter what.”
A lump settled in Vero’s throat at the kind words.
“Even if you choose to come out on national television, it’s your choice, and we support that,” Felix added. “That was gutsy, kid.”
Elena nodded. “We know the last few months have been hard, and promoting the single with a broken heart hasn’t been easy. But you’ve been a masterclass in grace under fire.”
Okay, now the tears were coming. “Thanks, guys,” Vero said, leaning in to hug Elena. Felix joined the hug, and soon, Jack wrapped his arms around, too, making it a giant group hug.
“Alright, alright,” Vero said as the hug dissolved, fanning her eyes with her hands.
“Oh, Nica, your phone’s ringing,” Elena said.
Felix grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter. “It’s… Billie…” he said, holding the phone as though it might explode at any moment.
Vero’s heart skipped a beat and she gasped. “It is?” She took the phone and stared at the caller ID.
“Answer it,” Elena urged.
Vero’s mouth went dry and her throat swelled with emotion. How was she supposed to answer it? Hey, how’s it going? Haven’t heard from you in two months. I’m doing fine. Just about to go to a music awards show for our song. No big deal. Haven’t thought about you in fifteen seconds.
The ringing stopped.
Her heart sank. Every time she had called Billie in the past two months, it had a busy signal, as if she was blocked. If she tried now, would she get through?
She looked up to see that her dad, Elena, and Jack had all scattered, making themselves busy elsewhere.
She walked into her bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
She took a deep breath, but startled when her phone began to ring again.
She slid her finger to answer it, but before she could get a single word out, Billie was already talking.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she was repeating. Then, she paused. “Oh, wait. Vero?”
Vero blinked in surprise. “Billie?” Though lacking in eloquence, it was at least to the point.
“I didn’t know if you'd answer,” Billie confessed. “Domino just told me that she blocked you on my phone the night when… Well, it was her you spoke to that night, not me.”
A rush of relief washed over Vero. When she had called that night, she thought Billie had told her to never call again and to leave her alone.
“I called so many times,” Vero said, her voice cracking. She heard the doorbell. Her styling team.
“What happened that night?” Billie asked.
“Lara just showed up. The doorman mistakenly sent her up, thinking she was you. She had bubbly, and then it exploded all over me. I hopped in the shower to wash off the
smell before you got there, because I didn’t want you to think I was drinking again,” Vero explained in a rush of words.
“She said you were back together,” Billie whispered.
“Very much not true,” Vero asserted.
“What you said in that interview…” Billie began.
“It was you,” Vero said, cutting her off.
There was a moment of silence and Vero thought she might die of anticipation.
“It’s been you from the start. I only want to be with you, and that hasn’t changed. I’ve been loyal to you, I promise,” Vero said.
“I wish we could start back at the beginning,” Billie said. “And undo these past few months.”
“No, what’s done is done. But I want a future with you. That hasn’t changed,” Vero said, terrified and confident at the same time.
It felt insincere to say it over the phone.
An idea popped into her head.
It was a bit risky, but she’d have to ask or she’d wonder forever.
“Are you busy right now?” She asked.
Her invitation to the awards ceremony had included a guest ticket, and though she had kicked around the idea of bringing her dad or Elena, she had chosen to go solo.
“Right now? Uh, no,” Billie said skeptically.
“Will you be my date to the AMAs?” Vero asked.
“Jill would allow that?” Billie asked.
“No more Jill,” Vero tried to explain quickly. “Anyway, will you be my date tonight?”
“Uh,” Billie said. “I don’t know. It’s very public, don’t you think?”
Vero’s heart sank. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said.
“No, shh,” Billie said.
“What?” Vero asked, holding back tears of rejection and embarrassment.
“Sorry, Dom is yelling at me,” Billie explained. “Why are you calling Zoey?”
“Why is she calling Zoey?” Vero asked, utterly confused.
“Wait, V, can I still say yes? Apparently I’m a quote, fucking idiot if I pass this up, unquote and I will quote, regret it forever, unquote,” Billie said with a small, surprised laugh.