Billie could feel this inexplicable weight resting on her chest as they arrived at the club, only for it to slowly melt away with each passing hour. As promised, Ezra had remained on his best behavior that night. He had not left her sight and seemed content with his tonic water and lime while the rest of the gang drank far too much. He was sober, and whatever she thought she saw in his eyes must've been a figment of her own imagination.

When she awakens the following morning in Grand Motel's tour bus, Billie reminds herself of the fact that Ezra had kept his promise. She white knuckles the idea — almost smothering any fear with the simple truth that Ezra had proved her wrong. Still, the remnants of that familiar and looming weight begins to grow. This time, however, the feeling is one of shame, rather than fear or worry.

She feels guilty that she hadn't given him the benefit of the doubt. She hadn't believed him, and Ezra had given her no reason to think otherwise. She had been driving herself crazy since she saw those dilated eyes, and she refuses to let it continue. With a resolute breath, Billie moves from the bunk bed and heads towards the sound of his music.

"Morning," she greets with a groggy tone.

"Morning," Ezra echoes with a warm smile, fingers resting on his strings as if he's completely focused on her presence. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," Billie replies, pushing down the negative feelings welling up inside her. He looks positively radiant. The token bags under his eyes and scowl he adorned since the beginning of the tour have slowly been replaced with a sort of youthful glow. He looks healthy and happy. How could she ever believe he was still using? "You got up early," she adds.

"Yeah," he nods, "I figured I should let you all sleep in a little longer." He motions towards the beds, and it's clear that Jude and Ambrose are still fast asleep.

"Surprised you got any sleep," she points out, "That twin barely fits the both of us."

"I like having you close," he assures, fingertips toying with the strings once more. "I also like seeing you in my shirt."

Billie can feel her cheeks flush, fingertips pulling at the hem of his tee draping over her petite frame. She realizes she's not wearing much of anything underneath, which causes Ezra's devilish grin to widen. "Can I borrow some sweats?"

"Top drawer," he directs, and she turns towards the back of the bus before sifting through the built-in closet space. Billie finally pulls out a pair of sweats before Ezra adds, "I want to take you somewhere when we reach San Francisco."

"Where did you want to go?" Billie questions before heading back towards the front of the bus and moving to take a seat next to him on the couch.

"Somewhere quiet," he replies, "It's going to be the last stop in the tour where we really get any opportunity to slip away. I just want it to be you and me for a little."

"I love that idea, but you know we're going to have plenty of alone time after the tour," Billie reminds with a playful grin.

Ezra looks at her for a moment too long, an off-key twang emitting from the guitar before he readjusts his fingers. "I can't be greedy about alone time with my girl?" He questions.

"No, of course you can," she assures while the bus slows to a stop. They must be refueling, which gives her the perfect opportunity to hop buses and get ready for their date.

"We only have a few more hours of driving," he points out, "I'm gonna try and get the rest of this song figured out."

"Okay. I'm gonna go get ready," Billie nods before moving to press a quick kiss against his cheek. Before she can pull away, Ezra loops his hand around her wrist and tugs her back towards him. Their lips touch, and Billie can feel all her nerves settle with one simple motion.

"I love you," he mumbles against her lips.

"I love you, too," she replies before reluctantly pulling away.

✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ

During their commute to San Francisco, Billie's anxieties finally settle. Her mind is far too busy with attempting to decipher where on earth they could be going for their date to be concerned about the night before. By the time they reach the venue, Ezra is waiting for her outside their bus with a car, and the two are immediately whisked away to some mystery location.

"You have any idea where we're headed?" Ezra questions with an aloof tone, palm resting on her knee as Billie looks out the window.

"Not one," she huffs, "I've never been to this city. I have no idea where you could be taking me."

"We're almost there," he assures with a gentle squeeze. Within a few minutes the car stops in front of a nondescript building.

Billie squints at the structure before turning to Ezra. "Was this supposed to give it away?" She teases.

"No," he laughs with a shake of his head before pulling open the door and moving to open hers once making his way around the car. "C'mon. We only have a few hours before we get called back for soundcheck."

Billie takes his hand, and they head for the building. Once they enter, a spunky redhead looks up from her post at the front desk. A flustered smile consumes her features as she attempts to gather her papers. "Good afternoon, Mr. Moore," she greets before adding embarrassedly, "and Miss. Fields. We're so happy to have you."

Billie offers a curious glance in Ezra's direction before piecing together that they were in another building leasing out recording studios. Except, the name on the front of the desk is titled 'MAD SOUNDS RECORDS.'

"The pleasure is all ours," Ezra replies charmingly, "I take it everything is ready for us."

"Yes, sir," she assures with a resolute nod, "Your studio was prepared just the way you requested. Please, don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you," he smiles before leading her down the hall.

"They treat you like royalty here," Billie remarks, eyes glancing over the dozens of platinum labels adorning the walls. She even manages to see one of Grand Motel's first albums amongst them.

"I've made my label a lot of money," he chuckles, "Sometimes I think you forget I'm actually famous."

"Oh, trust me. I haven't forgotten about that big ego of yours," she teases with a playful nudge.

With another laugh, Ezra pushes the door open to reveal a room similarly put together like the one in New Orleans, except this studio is filled with lit candles and dozens of pillows and blankets with one large quilt splayed out in the center.

"Wow," Billie exclaims, "This is beautiful. You ... you did all this?"

"Well, I didn't do it," Ezra admits, "My assistant did. She hired some people to set it up, since I wouldn't have enough time when we arrived."

"I love it," Billie muses, eyes wide at the romantic display. She immediately gravitates to the guitars set up near the makeshift picnic. "These are beautiful."

"I thought we could play a little together," Ezra explains as he closes the door behind him, "I was hoping to record and use it for the upcoming album."

"I couldn't do that," she protests while turning towards him once more, head shaking as her fingertips pull away from the instrument. Though they were artists, some things just felt off limits, and their bands' music was certainly one of them.

"Why not?" He questions, hands shoved in his pockets as he stands on the edge of the quilt. It appears he's thought a lot about this request, and her ability to shoot him down so quickly seems to shock him.

"Well, for starters, I'm not a member of Grand Motel," Billie reminds with a laugh, tone careful not to mock him.

"So?" Ezra shrugs, devilish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth once more.

"I really shouldn't, Ezra," she protests with a shake of her head.

Ezra sucks in a breath before replying, "I'm going to tell you something, and I don't want you to take it the wrong way."

"Okay..." Billie states, stomach knotting and mind reeling at all the possibilities lying between them. She holds in that breath until he takes a step forward and reaches for one of the guitars.

"I'm not going to write any lyrics about you on this album," he explains, "I'm not going to ever write about you. Those words are going to be someone else's, but the music ... the instrumentals ... they're going to be mine. And I want a piece of you in this album, even if no one else knows it."

Billie looks at him with such softness, heart pounding in her ears. Without saying it, she knows his reasons for keeping their relationship out of his songs. He wanted it to be different from his past with Madison. Ezra wanted to break the cycle, just like he had been trying to do with his addiction. Again, Billie can feel the weight of guilt building on her chest.

"You won't ever write about me?" She manages to get out, and Ezra nods. "You promise?" The words fall between them, and Billie swears she sees Ezra flinch.

It's silent for a few seconds before he reaches out to cup the side of her face. "I would never hurt you like that, Willow," he promises with a solemn tone, "Never."

Billie believes that things could be different for them. If he had ever chosen to write about her, all those lyrics would be happy and filled with hope. But the fear of heartbreak always loomed in the background when it came to love and Ezra Moore. She had tried to deny it since realizing the depth of her affections, but Ezra acknowledged it without much difficulty. In fact, he seemed to embrace it. Somehow, that makes her feel all the more free. Even if their demise is a possibility, it isn't inevitable.

"I know," she rasps, "and I won't write about you." She sucks in another breath before a hopeful smile graces her features. "But I'll sing for you."

Ezra looks as if he's relieved while his smile widens. "And I'll sing for you."

Without another word, he closes the distance between them to press a soft kiss against her lips. Her hands rest around the back of his neck, stomach still in knots as she tries to internalize his promise. He wouldn't hurt her.

The two eventually move to sit on the quilt amongst the multitude of pillows and blankets with their guitars. He begins to play from a sheet of music, and Billie soon follows the rhythm. The melody is soft and somber until the chorus introduces new life to the score. Jovial notes fill the studio and surround the two lovers.

It feels familiar, as if she's been hearing parts of it before. After a while, Billie pieces together the melody and realizes that what he had been working on since the beginning of the tour was about her. It had always been about her. She looks up at him, fingers still plucking at the strings before they reach their final chord.

Ezra hasn't taken his attention off her since the beginning of the song, but he looks away for a moment when the music stops. "Do you like it?" He questions hesitantly.

"Yes," she assures, "I've heard it before."

"You have," he confirms, "I've been working on it for a long time."

"Since Pittsburgh," she recalls, mind floating back to their first encounter in a studio when she first heard him play those familiar chords.

"I didn't know it was about you then," he explains, "but somewhere along the way, I realized it was. And it's funny because now all I hear is you. It's so clear, and I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner. I thought if I kept playing pieces around you then you might hear it, too."

"It's beautiful," she compliments, "Can we play it again?"

"Will you let me record it?" Ezra counters with a soft smile, and Billie nods without hesitation. Though they had recorded other sounds together, this feels all the more intimate. It's something she would not have done unless she trusted Ezra completely, and that somewhat eases her worries. She trusted Ezra when it came down to it, and Billie just needs to remember that.

They spend the next hour going over the music line by line to perfect the piece. Though they would likely record again, Billie can't help but feel like they won't get a more perfect audio than from this moment. Nothing would be as special as this, and she holds onto this forming memory closely. When they're both satisfied with the final piece, they finally turn to the trays of snacks and food surrounding the quilt.

Billie reaches for a chocolate strawberry before handing one to him. Ezra offers a thankful nod before asking, "Did you have fun?"

"Yes," she nods with a grin, "I had a great time."

"Good," Ezra muses, "I wanted our last date during the tour to be special."

"It was very special," she assures, "and I'm sure we'll have many more special moments in New York."

"Speaking of which, I found a place in SoHo that I think you'll like. We can take a look next week," Ezra explains.

"I can't wait," Billie replies with a smile.

"Until then, we should focus on your big debut for the festival tomorrow," Ezra advises, "We leave directly after this show so that we can get there in the early morning to make your afternoon set."

"I can't believe it's actually happening," she admits before taking another bite of her strawberry while Ezra finishes off his.

"I can," he assures, "You deserve this, and it's only the beginning. Before long, you'll be the one headlining music festivals and your own tour."

"You sound so sure," Billie replies humbly.

"Because I am," Ezra insists, "I'm girlcrush's number one fan now. I'm running your fan club and everything."

"You're sweet," she muses, fingertips reaching out to entangle with his.

"I'm proud of you, Willow. This world is going to open up for you after this tour in so many ways. And I am going to be right there rooting for you in every way I can."

Billie can no longer feel her guilt or worry looming in the background. The hope of Ezra's sobriety, their plans of moving in together, and the future success of girlcrush are far too great for her to be weighed down by the unknown. Come what may, Ezra loved Billie, and she loved him. They would traverse whatever came their way together. He would be rooting for her, but, more importantly, they'd be rooting for each other.