A week passed, and Billie made no intention to stop herself from seeing Ezra. Each location in the tour between Pittsburgh and Miami created a new opportunity for the two to sneak away and get their fix between recording sessions, sound checks, and shows. Though Billie didn't want to admit it, she had found herself in an inescapable loop with the singer that she had no desire getting out of. 

The arrangement was simple. They'd reach a new destination, pleasure each other, and go on pretending as if they were strangers. Truthfully, there wasn't enough time in this leg of the tour to pencil in anything more than a quick hookup. Though she didn't mind sticking to the rules she outlined between them, Billie missed the conversations that came with seeing Ezra.

They hadn't said more than a handful of words to each other in person, and the same went for their texts. They only reached out when making plans, which Billie took most of the initiative on. She should be grateful that Ezra understood his place, but part of her wondered if there was something beyond respecting her boundaries that she was missing.

Though she wanted to shake the idea of Ezra being preoccupied with someone else, she just couldn't stop herself from thinking about it. It was more likely that he was busy with the constant recording sessions and meetings that filled his schedule. Yet, it couldn't have been a coincidence that he had withdrawn himself from the group ever since New York.

 All Billie could think of was that ghostly image of him in the penthouse party. All alone while surrounded by dozens of people.

She couldn't remember the last time he had gone out with everyone. It seemed Ezra had an excuse or prior obligation that Jeff made a point of expressing before every show. Maybe it was for the best that he didn't join, since partying wasn't conducive to keeping Ezra safe and coherent for the tour. 

Besides, she had been seriously neglecting Monte. Though she had made her intentions clear with the photographer, he was still very much interested. They spent a majority of the nights during that week together while out with everyone, but Billie couldn't bring herself to sleep with him again. Monte was nice, but he wasn't naive. He had taken the hint and stopped asking her out on dates or offering for her to come home with him. It seemed as if they were better at being friends than lovers, anyways.

Even though she couldn't imagine herself with Monte, part of her felt like she was making a mistake. It was as if she was throwing away something perfect in the pursuit of something broken. Her relationship with Ezra was fickle and rough around the edges, and yet, she couldn't help herself when it came to him. One look into those stormy eyes and she was putty in his hands.

When they arrived in Miami, the girls were immediately preoccupied with a meeting Monica had set up with a few potential investors. The executives decided to stay for the soundcheck to get a better feel for the girls, which captured Billie's attention for a majority of the morning and afternoon leading up to the show. Of course, the meeting was a bust. 

It would take time to find the right investors or, at least, that's what Monica assured them after their meeting ended and they headed to the dressing room to prepare for the evening. They just had to be patient. Billie told herself this over and over again, as if to distract herself from the looming fear that the right investors would never come, no matter how patient they were.

Ezra had asked her what would become of them after the tour, and the reality of the situation was that she would likely be tied to him for the rest of her career. The girls couldn't pass up the opportunity that Mad Sounds offered them, and if no investors would buy into their venture, they would have to sign. 

And, inevitably, she would have to endure the multiple women streaming in and out of Ezra's life and all the chaos that he brought with him.

As much as she hated it, Billie somehow enjoyed the idea of being stuck with him indefinitely. It was a complete disaster for her career, and she would actively try to pursue any alternative. Yet, a part of her knew that this would be their last months together if girlcrush was able to secure the funds for their label. So, selfishly, it felt nice to live in a fantasy where it wouldn't end, even if she knew it had to. 

She's weighed by these thoughts as the two bands gather in the green room before girlcrush is called out on stage. Those investors wouldn't call back, and everyone knew it. They seemed extremely skeptical of an inexperienced, all girl band running an independent label. Frankly, Billie and the girls didn't want their money even if they gave it, which left them back at square one. 

She takes a long drink from her cup, the liquor burning the back of her throat as she swallows. They should just get used to this tour life and opening band bullshit with the way things were going for them. Cue another gulp. She can't escape Ezra and Grand Motel, even if she wanted to. 

"Boy, you must be thirsty," a familiar voice teases, and it pulls Billie immediately from her thoughts. Her eyes meet those stormy irises, and her heart begins thudding rapidly.

"You're one to talk," she states dryly. There's no smile to back bite tonight. Truthfully, Billie is in such a sour mood that not even banter with Ezra could bring her out of it.

His features fall momentarily, as if she's said something borderline hurtful. "I was looking for you today," he replies in a low tone, his eyes flickering over the preoccupied group chatting away near the refreshments.

"Monica had a meeting arranged for us," she clarifies while trying to ignore the idea of her being in his thoughts all afternoon. "Guess you're not the only hot commodity around here."

"I don't doubt that," he assures with a devilish grin, "I'm sure plenty of people are dying to get a moment with the Billie Fields."

"There's not enough time before we go on," she states matter of factly, lips pressing against her cup once more.

"Didn't come over here for that," he assures, "You seem a bit in your head. Guess I just wanted to know what you were thinking about."

"Nothing," she assures with a small shrug, eyes flickering to the clock above the door. They have fifteen minutes until showtime, and the last thing she needs is to be getting into all her emotional turmoil with the man who is the source of it all.

"Not in the mood for talking, I see," he replies with a careful tone, and the expression on his face exudes a kind of concern she hasn't seen before. Is Ezra actually worried about what's going on in her mind or is he more concerned about when he'll be able to get her alone again?

"I wish I was better company," she admits honestly, "Maybe if I had a few more of these in me, I would be." She shakes the cup in her hand, ice clanking against the plastic. She just needs to loosen up and stop overthinking every little thing that has to do with this tour and him. 

His attention flickers to the cup for only a moment. That familiar cherry candy is swirling in his mouth and clacking against his teeth as his tongue moves from one side to the other. "Careful," he cautions, "One too many and you might fall right off the stage."

"Are you speaking from experience?" she questions with a soft chuckle, and the smile nearly returns to her features.

"I might be," he offers with an aloof shrug, "but if you want my advice on how to get your mind off things, I'd say you should get absolutely shitfaced tonight after the show. I mean really, really drunk. And by tomorrow, you'll forget all about whatever has you worried."

"That's just about the worst advice I've ever received," she snorts with a full blown grin.

"That may be true," he admits with a laugh before his attention focuses on her mouth, "but it made you smile." 

"It did," she muses, realizing he had made her do so without even trying. "I hope you aren't taking your own advice, either."

"What do you mean?" He questions with furrowed brows.

"You haven't been out with all of us in a while. I'm starting to think you're either avoiding everyone or holding yourself up in that bus with a stockpile of liquor."

"Just say you miss my company," he teases with a grin, "or are you keeping yourself preoccupied in between our time together?"

"Are you?" She questions before immediately regretting it. Billie didn't need to know about what happened beyond the time they shared.

"I'd much prefer to be out with everyone and you, trust me," he assures with a chuckle, and she's thankful that he doesn't read into her moment of weakness. "I've just been busy tying up some loose ends."

"Come out tonight," she offers before finishing off her drink, "You deserve a break."

"Are you going to dance with me again, if I do?" He questions with a devilish grin.

"No," she scoffs and that smile is wiped right off his face. Billie almost feels sorry for denying him so outright. "I don't need Jude or anyone else catching us again," she adds. 

"Ah," he replies with a slightly clenched jaw, "So, then why invite me?"

"Because you're a part of the group, whether or not you want to be," she clarifies, "and maybe the girls would like you more if they actually spent some time with you."

"Why are you so concerned about what they think of me?" It takes her a moment to recalibrate, mind stuck on the notion that she's concerned about how her bandmates perceive him. She wants them to like him, to approve of him. How completely irrational. 

"It was just an invitation," she states flatly, "I don't see why it matters, though. You'll just do what you want anyways."

"I want to go," he insists, "Don't think I've been avoiding you. I've just been busy."

"Then come." The words almost sound like a plea, and Billie silently curses herself for being so transparent about wanting him out with her. She doesn't care if it's reckless. Even if they couldn't be together in public, the hope of them slipping away is the kind of distraction she needs tonight. 

"Okay," he nods, "I will." No further hoops to jump through, no teasing reply. Just a simple affirmation that he'd be there, even if the night would amount to nothing for them.

For a moment, Billie forgets that they're in public together. She's looking up at him with such tenderness, that nearly anyone could piece together their connection if they looked long enough. She doesn't want anyone, including Ezra, to know the feelings that are beginning to blossom in her chest. So, her features slip back into neutrality.

Her attention turns once more to the clock before she moves to head towards the group. "See you tonight," she mutters with a tone still full of softness. Her attention catches Sloane as she slips past Ezra.

"What was that about?" Sloane questions, attention stuck on the male standing alone. It only makes matters worse when he reaches for a cigarette and heads towards the door, revealing the smirk plastered on his features for everyone to see.

"He's just an ass," Billie assures, cheeks growing warm, "I swear, he takes any opportunity to get under my skin."

The bassist doesn't seem convinced, but the voice over the intercom alerting girlcrush to head towards the stage stops her from asking any further questions. Billie hopes she'll forget the interaction entirely. 

Suddenly, Billie begins to realize the error in her actions. Ezra would come because she asked, and Sloane would be watching very carefully. Too many coincidences had occurred for her to drop it now, and sneaking away with Ezra would be impossible. 

Billie is unsure of how to throw her off their scent, but she'd do just about anything for Sloane to stop digging. She would figure something out. She had to for her and Ezra's sake.