𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

"So, I take it things ended amicably between you and Ezra," the reporter presses, and Billie can feel her stomach twist in such a way she hasn't felt in a long time. The mere mention of his name used to almost make her sick with a flood of emotions, but she'd be lying if it didn't spark an old, nostalgic feeling now. 

"I wish him nothing but the best," Billie answers neutrally with a smile, "We're happy to hear they've been nominated for best alternative album tonight." Monica nods approvingly on the sidelines, clearly impressed with her diplomatic answer.

"It must be exciting for you to be nominated as best new artist, " she prompts with a smile, and the girls all nod in unison.

"It's very exciting," Callie beams, "We can't believe how much support we've received for our debut album. This definitely won't be the last of girlcrush on this carpet."

"Glad to hear it! You girls rock, and we'll see you in there. Good luck!"

Once they complete the interview, Monica begins to lead them towards the arena to find their seats. As they begin to file into the building, an eruption of cheers from fans alert Billie that an important artist has arrived. She barely has a chance to look down from the top of the stairs to the entrance of the red carpet before her stomach twists. The vision of three familiar figures emerging onto the carpet nearly knocks the wind out of her, but she can barely see their faces before being swept away.

Billie can't seem to catch her breath as they enter into the crowded arena, heart pounding in her ears while the girls begin to mingle with other artists and their guests. She feels so out of place and disoriented, and her body begins flooding with all the emotions she thought had dried up a long time ago.

She attempts to push through it, ignoring the aching in her chest and her knotted stomach as Monica introduces them to producers and artists. Though this was an award show, it was also a networking event for The Collective. Monica and their team had made that clear countless times before this evening. Still, Billie cannot seem to shake the looming weight on her chest.

After a few more unbearable minutes, she finally excuses herself from the conversation and heads towards the bathrooms. She needs a moment of silence to clear her head, just a few minutes to catch her breath, and she would be fine. As she turns the corner down a near empty hall, she collides into another person hard enough that it almost knocks her back.

An apology immediately leaves her lips before a set of familiar tattooed hands reach for her arms to stop her from tripping over her gown. Billie feels her stomach knot as her eyes meet those stormy irises. Dark circles and bags no longer adorn them, and his complexion looks so much warmer than before. There's a light glowing from within him she can't explain, and it's clear now she has not met this Ezra Moore before.

She stares up at him in his tailored suit with his perfectly styled curls for a moment too long before her cheeks begin to burn. "Ezra," she finally manages to get out, "Hi. Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Hi," he replies softly with that familiar devilish grin. "Don't worry about it, neither was I." Billie realizes his hands are still gently wrapped around her forearms. Her eyes flicker to them before Ezra immediately pulls away with rosy cheeks. "Sorry," he mutters embarrassedly.

"No, thank you," she insists, "Knowing me, I would've fallen on my ass and torn my dress or, I don't know, broken my ankle."

Ezra lets out a chuckle, hands finding his pockets as if he's constraining himself from reaching out and touching her again. "You've always given me far too much credit," he admits, and his tone borders a sort of wistful melancholy that causes her chest to ache. "You look beautiful," he adds.