All is done. 

Well, all isn’t done, but our talk was really helpful and I have so many ideas now. I’m thinking beach. I’m thinking a drawing in the sand. I’m thinking matching photos and mixed lyrics in the caption and I’m thinking of something silly they both could own.

A gift. A gift like a promise, like a memory.

I need to work and I kind of need room to do so, so this is the perfect moment to tell Amber to please have some sleep. It would really help her; she looks tired enough already, like she hasn’t slept in the last two days or something. She tries to fight me for show now, when I ask her to please lay down, but when she finally gives in I know she’s thankful she wasn’t the one to suggest it.

I grab her hand and lead her to the bed. I didn’t have to, the bed that was just right there and she could’ve walked the literal ten steps herself without a problem, but I grab her hand and she lets me.

My body was just begging me to do it, and I thought she would draw her hand away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she brushes it with her thumb, perhaps guilty, as if she couldn’t help it, and then I am the one who lets go.

I come back to the coffee table fast, sitting so heavily that I’m afraid I’ve broken the chair.

“I will be right here, talking to Molly,” I say, rubbing my palms against my jeans, nervous. “I’ll copy paste whatever we say to Lilah, okay? Just take a nap, I got you.”

When I turn my head to check her reaction, she’s already asleep.

I wonder what has kept her up all night. I wonder if it was Billie and her creative process. Her bangs look messy and her lips are parted, and this is probably the first time I’ve seen her so relaxed, maybe the second. She looks younger like this. She looks cute. 

After a few minutes of her sleeping and me being distracted looking at her, I stand up, not really knowing what I’m doing, and I put a light blanket over her body. Just so she’s not cold later. Just in case she misses one in her sleep, even if it’s not that cold to begin with.

Then I leave to grab another coffee and start working because this is what I’m here for, not for looking at Sleeping Beauty getting some rest.

“Just promise me there will be no further changes,” Molly begs, and she sounds really tired over the phone. I can only think: same, sis. She told me it was hard to keep up with all the last second changes from afar. 

I want to tell her, ‘Trust me, it was harder to deal with a chaotic bitch live,’ but I don’t.

“I wish I could promise you that,” I mumble, and I really mean it, but spending time with Billie Grace has taught me that she’s gotten so tired of being controlled that she has chosen to live a life of improvisation. Well, kind of. Some sort of limited improvisation, at least, because I don’t think she would take any decisions that’d put her career in real danger. “She thought the kiss would look spontaneous, and it works for the paps. Billie’s assistant thought that intimacy fits Matt better than any sort of official announcement, and I agree, so we’ll take some new pictures, too. And we will post them once we’re back home.”

“Yeah, that matches the good-sensitive boy we’re aiming for.”

She says that as if Matt wasn’t like that for real, as if that was something she fabricated. I hesitate for a moment, not sure if I’m offended or just hurt that she never really tried to know Matt really well.

“Well, yeah. So. The thing is, Billie’s assistant and I thought he would rather whisper it to the world. Like, he would make some kind of a vow, but it wouldn’t be just a vow. We would use lyrics from one of his songs.”

I want to explain it to her by saying that it would be like that meme where the two bros whisper that they mean everything to each other, but explaining what a meme is would take me too long and we don’t have much time.

“Okay,” Molly says, listening. “What song, Irma Road?”

Irma Road is his latest hit, the one Amber and I were listening to earlier. I think about it for a bit and shake my head, then say “No” out loud because Molly can’t see me. 

“Irma Road is too sad, I don’t think it would fit quite well. Liberty, though… That could work. I mean, ‘I only want to be there, only if you let me stay’… It’s not that old, and some berries have been connecting it with New York lately, and the berries that also like Billie Grace insist on New York ‘being her’. They have been theorising for a few months now,” I explain. “It would look like he wrote it for her.”

Molly hums in a way I know means she wants me to convince her. 

“But those are just some fan assumptions.” 

“They’re our best asset thus far. Think about it like this: it’s already in their heads, we would just confirm it. It was their idea, really, we’re just using it for this.” It feels nasty, actually, now that I say it out loud, and doesn’t sit quite well with me, but I know that someone confirming my exact fan theory would’ve killed me back in the day, so no one is gonna notice. They’ll love it, they’ll buy it, and it’ll help our guys. That’s the only thing that matters. “We use that same lyric, put it under a picture of Billie running away from him, maybe making a sand castle, looking all relaxed and happy and… voilá! Intimacy. A confession. The confirmation everyone wants.”

Molly is silent for a moment. She does that sometimes to keep me calm and humble, to hold my ego. She doesn’t want me to know that I’m good, but I know it anyway. 

“Okay,” she says. “Write this all down and then send it to us. This will happen soon, though. We can’t delay this anymore.”

“Yes, Molly,” I answer, and I’m already typing the email with all the info.

“And no more surprises,” she warns me, to which I nod because explaining I’m literally the last one here to make decisions would not look too good.

“You really are good at this,” I hear behind me, and when I turn my head I see Amber sitting up, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“Hey,” I say, softly, and smile a little. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, you’re fine.” She yawns again and blinks slowly. “I heard half of what you told Molly. Sounds brilliant.”

“As long as Billie doesn’t fuck it up before we have a chance to finish, I think it will be.”

Amber winces a bit, as if she knew I’m right but wasn’t allowed to say anything bad about her boss. She doesn’t look like she rested a lot, but at least she no longer looks like a car drove her over, so that’s an improvement. 

“I should put her on a leash,” she groans.

I chuckle and turn back to my laptop. 

“Only sometimes, maybe. It would be great if she knew how teams work, that’s all.” There’s a part of me that knows I’m allowed to complain, but other parts fear that maybe Amber will run and tell her what I said, so I change subjects. “You can sleep a bit more if you want. I’m not gonna tell them until Lilah gives us the green light, too.”

“I can talk to her, I’m okay.”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m gonna switch to tea, finish this and then wait for her green light. I’ll wake you up again later. Close your eyes.”

She frowns.

“You really do work hard for that appraisal, don’t you?”

There’s some bitterness in her question and, when I turn to look at her, I can see she’s frustrated. Not much, though. Not in a way that’s tangible, but I can see it and I know she wants me to. I don’t understand why she said that, or why I’m hurt when I hear it. Frowning as well, I let my hands fall to my sides and I stare at the screen again, reading what I just typed, trying to find something to say, and trying to control my feelings.

“I’m not like that,” I state, but it just sounds weak and, to be honest, very lame. “I told my boss this was also your idea.” 

I look at her, hurt, but I can’t figure out what to say, so I just stand up and go for that last tea or coffee.

“If you could ask for a wish right now, Charlie, what would it be?”

I turn my head and put a hand over my eyes so the bright outside light lets me see Billie’s flawless face as she sunbathes. We came to the smallest, closest and most secluded beach, made sure no one would be around in the UK's late August weather, and got everything ready for Amber’s pics.

“Oh, I’d ask for you to stick to the plan this time so I can go back to my tiny LA shared apartment,” I answer, with a big smile on my face.

That makes her laugh.

“You’re a brave one, uh?” she says, and right now she looks like an old film star living her best life. “I promise you I will behave this time. I was just having some fun before, you know?”

“And you’re done with your fun now?”

“No, but I’ll save it for later.”

I roll my eyes and look away, spotting Matt on the shore, kicking the water while Amber takes pictures of him. Matt and Billie are the only ones wearing swimsuits, but I took off my shoes so I could get my feet a little wet and Amber did too. 

I have been avoiding her since that last conversation because I prefer being in control and I’d rather not let her hurt my feelings again.

“I was hoping you’d say something about my girl, you know.” Billie’s voice is singing and charming, and that’s exactly what makes me tense up. “I see you’re mad at her. What did she do?”

I wonder why I can’t tell her “none of your business” like I’d tell literally anyone else. There’s this power in her, this energy, that keeps me at a line all the time. Like she’s a goddess on Earth, like she’s been enchanting me. Maybe that’s what wrong with me, why I haven’t been able to say no to her once: maybe I’ve been enchanted to the beginning and that’s her trick for always getting away with everything.

“She can be the one to tell you herself, if you guys want to gossip,” I reply, and I’m not sure if saying that was a good idea or a bad one, but I don’t wanna find out. I stand up, shaking the sand off my clothes, and start walking away. “Matthew’s almost done, it’s your turn now.”

She raises a brow and smiles as if I had just tossed her a challenge. When Amber comes for us, I am the one to tell Billie where to sit and it feels good for her to follow my orders for once.

The pictures are done by noon, and we’re ready to launch them as we planned.