worldwide || billie eilish

chapter two

A few weeks later, Jared took me with him on his first day at the studio. He and the rest of the band were huddled up in the corner of the recording room, talking in low voices about their songs and music and plans for the album they were making. I sat alone on a stool a few feet away, miserably chain-smoking.

A bald man in a dark grey suit walked in, flanked by two other men in similar attire. I assumed that one of them was the producer--my money was on the bald guy.

They all stopped in front of the band and the bald one said, "Congratulations on making it this far. You're signed with one of the biggest record label in the world. We've manufactured dozens of successful musicians, and if you all are as talented as I think you are, then I plan on making you the next big thing." He waved a beefy hand around as he spoke. "What the world is lacking right now is a good, solid rock band. But I believe that you all--" he pointed at the band-- "can change that. We're going to be working long hours, nonstop, to make a debut album that will go down in history as the revival of rock n' roll."

One of the other men cleared his throat, and when I looked up, I realized that he was staring directly at me. The bald man swung around.

"Who the hell are you? This is a closed session. Get out!" he barked at me. I turned to Jared. He was looking at the floor, refusing to lock eyes with me. My face burned

"I'm Jared's girlfriend," I finally said, my tone icy. "But don't worry. I'm leaving now."

I grabbed my purse from the ground and stormed out of the room, finding myself in a hallway lit by bright florescent lights. I began to walk down it, searching for an exit. I couldn't believe Jared! Why hadn't that jackass stuck up for me? And the worst part was that he would no doubt end up somehow finding a way to be angry with me about the whole thing later--

"Ow!" I yelped, colliding with someone in the hall. I fell back, landing with a thump on the linoleum floor. "What the fuck?"

Whoever had knocked me over stuck their hand out. I swatted it away, standing on my own and brushing off my clothes. Then I looked to see who the fuck had bumped into me.

It was a girl, appearing to be about the same age as me, with black hair and striking blue eyes. She was pretty--I wasn't about to deny that--but I was in a sour mood and so the only thing I said to her was, "Watch where you're fucking going."

Then I walked away, thinking no more of the situation.

*

I took a taxi back to the apartment that Jared and I shared. In the past few days, he had been searching for houses in the Hills, saying that his pay was going to be so good after the album release that he would be able to afford even the most extravagant of mansions.

I unlocked the front door and stumbled inside, flopping down on the sofa. There was clutter everywhere you looked--the combination of a disdain for cleaning and constant house parties had made for an incredibly messy living space. Again, Jared had bragged to me that after the album we could hire a hundred maids if we wanted. 

The life of luxury that he was promising me wasn't as enticing as he thought it was. Sure, I didn't love being dirt-broke, but I also sort of appreciated its freedom. Owning nothing enabled me to do everything. When I was a kid, I could hitch rides all over California, do crazy shit, and when I came home days later nobody in my family seemed to even realize I had been gone. 

I went out and smoked a cigarette on the balcony. Then I took of my jeans and my shoes, climbed into bed, and took a nap.

When I woke up, Jared was standing over me, his face flushed with anger.

*

"Are you okay?" I asked, sitting up. 

"Shut the fuck up, Colette. You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? You made my producer mad, you embarrassed me in front of my band, and you expected me to stick up for you? I mean, Jesus, I know you're a fucking coke whore but I never realized you were this fucking stupid!"

I looked out the window behind Jared. It was early evening, the sun hanging low in the sky.

"Look at me, you fucking bitch! Look me in the fucking eye!" Jared screamed, and before I could do anything, he slapped me right across the face.

My hands flew up to where he had hit me. My eyes had begun watering, and I tried to wipe the tears away as quickly as possible, sure that if he saw me crying he would just berate me even more.

Jared seemed to clam down after a little while. He sat down beside me in bed and hit his hand on my hair and began to stroke it. 

"I'm so sorry, baby," he cooed. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I choked out, sniffling.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know," he said in a hushed voice. "So why don't we just forget this ever happened? Let's go to a party, baby, and forget about this. I love you."

I wiped my nose and nodded. I felt like a little kid. I hated it.

"Yeah. We can go to a party if you want. Lemme just...I have to get dressed."

Jared said okay and got off the bed, stepping out onto the balcony. I stood and walked to the closet, putting out a random silk slip and throwing it on. Then, while Jared was still outside, I sat in front of the vanity in the bathroom and let myself cry. My body heaved and shook as I sobbed, burying my face in my hands so the sound was muffled. When I finished, I wiped my face of any tears, stared at my reflection, and smiled my biggest, more normal smile in the world.

Because I was happy with Jared. I loved him. We had a good, healthy, normal relationship and when he hit me he always apologized and he always understood that he had made a mistake, so it was okay that it kept happening, because eventually he would finally realize what he was doing and he would stop, right?

Right?