7 days in limbo [Billie Eilish]

DAY IV.1: how do you know what's good for me

With a sigh I dropped into my desk chair. It was early in the evening and I was exhausted. My Mondays were often busy and I had seriously considered going back to bed when I had seen my calendar this morning.

Why did past-me always think future-me would be so productive?

I had just come back from the venue where I had spent the afternoon organizing equipment for the next artist's show but I was still not finished with work for today. The video for the Hunted Hall had to be up in a few hours.
I opened the editing program on my computer and began with the finishing touches. Even though I had been editing all morning, sacrificing my gym session, I was still not done.

Rubbing my eyes I tried to force myself into concentration.
All day I had been able to keep my mind from wandering but now it kept getting back to last night, to red lights and luscious lips.

A frustrated groan escaped me and I leaned back in my chair to prop my feet on the desk.

Before I realized it I had the stack of prints in my hand I had made with Billie yesterday. I flicked through architecture, abstract close ups and long exposure portraits of buskers in the tube.
I stopped when I got to the photographs of Billie. I had not really looked at them yet.

The first picture made me smile. Billie was cracking up with her nose scrunched and I could her laugh just by looking at it.
The second one, right after I had complimented her, was more serious. The upward curve of her lips only suggested the smile that was shining in her eyes. It was a beautiful photograph. There was something intimate in her gaze.

I felt an odd pulling sensation when I realized that I had been the one behind the camera in that moment.
It was me who Billie was giving that look.

I exhaled and shook my head before throwing the prints back on my desk.

Denying that I cared was useless at this point. In a way I had done so since the first day. How Billie's fear in the lift had translated over to me was proof enough.

I tried to reason with myself. I barely know her. We spent nothing but three evenings together, the first of which involuntarily in that bloody lift. So what? She kisses me once and I get all sentimental by looking at a picture? That's pathetic.

Just when I managed to subdue my spiralling and focus back on work my phone rang.
It was my dad. I felt bad when I realized I had not called him in a week.

*in German*

"Hi dad."

"How are you, Mara?"

"I'm good. A lot going on right now but I'll have the new video finished on time."

"How were the last shows?"

"Great." I covered the photographs on my desk because I felt as if Billie was listening. "Yeah, more than that actually. No fails on our side, everything went smoothly."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. My father was probably multitasking and working while he called me.
I cleared my throat into the awkward silence. "How was your trip to New York? Any luck with that new customer?"

"I don't know yet, we'll have to be patient. They liked the offer well enough but you know how loyal they can be to inland companies."

"I know. The US market is tricky to get into."

My dad liked to hear me talk like that. In reality I had zero knowledge about anything business related.

"We'll see."

"Are you back home now?" I meant his home and not mine. I had stayed with my mother when she and my dad separated right after my birth.

"Since last night. I'm unpacking now. How are things with you?"