•Chains• Billie Eilish• Imagine•

Broken

I sighed deeply as I ran the blade over my arm, hissing in response to the pain. I stayed motionless, in the same position for a few minutes. Then, I stood up and washed the cut, rinsing the dried blood off my arm.
I frowned as I looked my reflection. I was extremely pale and I had bags under my eyes. I looked really sickly.
Suddenly, the bathroom door flung open.
I jumped and yelped, desperately trying to hide my razor in my shirt.
I glanced at the floor, away from the person who walked in.
Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I winced.
I turned around and gaped.
It was Billie Eilish.
It was obvious she knew that I knew who she was.
Suddenly becoming embarrassed that my idol and crush caught me in this position, I turned away.
All I received was two arms wrapped around my waist.
"I saw what you did."
I gulped.
"I've been there before. I've been in a dark place where it feels like there's no possible way out. It's gonna be okay."
My eyes widened at her words.
No one's ever been that nice to me. Not even my parents.
"Do you wanna go get lunch? Together??" I blurted out.
Instantly regretting what I said, I blushed and put my hands over my face and apologized profusely.
"Sure. I'll buy it though. I get a feeling you don't have any money, " she said with a small smile or smirk. I couldn't tell which.
She grabbed my hand and tugged me out of the restroom.
We walked together.
People occasionally glanced at us and their eyes widened.
Billie smiled and waved at everyone who seemed to recognize her.
'No one ever recognizes me,' I thought. 'But I guess I'm not very important.'
Instead of saying that I said, "Do you like being, you know, famous?"
Billie gave a mix between a nod and a head shake.
"I mean, it's pretty cool to be recognized and have so many fans... But at the same time... It's so stressful and really tough. That's what lead me to the hospital last year. I had to pay the news to not release the story."
I gave a small nod and smiled.
"Yea I get that. I mean, I'm not famous or anything, but I understand how hard that would be. Keeping up with fans, money, shows, music... The pressure of making all your fans happy. I know I couldn't do that."
Billie smiled.
"You're cute, ya know?"
I blushed and I think I must've been as red as a tomato because Billie laughed.
I love that laugh. So majestic.
Shortly we arrived at the cafe.
Billie ordered us food, without telling me what it was but promising that I'd like it.
As we sat down, she asked me the question I've been dreading.
"So why do you do it?"
I knew what she meant.
Why do you self harm?
"Umm.. My mom left me when I was four. My dad was verbally and physically abusive. He'd hit me and my sister and call us 'bitchy, stupid whores'.  My sis got out of the house at eighteen, but I was only six. I couldn't escape the hell hole that was my house. So I endured it until the neighbor apparently heard my screams and called the cops. They arrested my father and I was sent to a foster home. They didn't want me so I went to a dozen more homes before I was adopted at age thirteen. When I  started high school, I was bullied so much that I resorted to self harm. "
"Damn. That's a hell of a lot worse than my story. "
I chuckled through my tears.
"Yea my life sucks. But honestly, don't feel pity. I don't need that. Everytime I share my story I get tears and apologies. I don't know why."
Our food came and we ate for a bit before Billie leaned in and kissed me.