SEASON TWO, EPISODE SEVEN

GIRLS!

BILLIE

          BILLIE HATED BEING WRONG. Therefore, it was extremely important that she made sure to let everyone else know they were wrong, which was why she was so determined in not letting Gwen ask Tommy freaking Santos to be her duet partner. That was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the dumbest things she had ever heard, and she couldn't even understand Gwen's reasoning.

          They had always worked perfectly well together, ever since the very first day, and it utterly astounded her how Gwen was happy to just throw it all away like a piece of chewed gum. She was replacing her for Tommy Santos, which was the worst part of it all.

          Billie thought they were supposed to hate the guy's guts; what had changed? And, most importantly, why?

          "I'm once again begging you not to do this," she told Gwen, for the millionth time. Yet, for the millionth time, Gwen refused to listen to her. She had always gone to Billie for advice, and had always followed them. Billie refused to believe there was any strain in their relationship, and she refused to accept that Tommy Santos was the cause behind it. "Gweeeeen."

          "I can make my own decisions just fine, thank you," Gwen coldly insisted, dishing out words for a Music Theater History paper Billie hadn't even thought about starting. She trusted Gwen to help her out with it anyway, as soon as the deadline began to creep closer and couldn't be ignored any longer. "Besides, I have no idea why you're so pressed about this. It's just a duet."

          "It's never just a duet and you know that. It can easily escalate to something bigger and—"

          "And what if it does? You're making this seem like a much bigger deal than it actually is, and I really don't understand why. It's not like I'm ditching you or saying I'll never sing with you again; I just want to, like, broaden my horizons." She pressed the Enter key harder than necessary. "Quite frankly, it hurts that you, out of all people, refuse to support me on this. I'd expect this kind of attitude from literally anyone else but you."

          Billie didn't know how to put her thoughts into words, but, even if she did, it wasn't like Gwen would give her the time of day. She had already made up her mind and was just looking for the right moment to strike up a conversation and casually ask Tommy to be her duet partner.

          She'd even considered reaching out to A.J., who was, technically, the leader of the group and the person to talk to in case there was any drama brewing. Fortunately, she remembered, at the very last second, that Gwen herself had ripped A.J. a new one right before she returned to the club (which Billie had supported wholeheartedly), and she wasn't going to be the one to make it even worse.

          Not even Isabella seemed to understand.

          "Everyone is free to partner up with whoever they want," she told Billie, a few days after Gwen's announcement, but Billie could tell she wasn't paying full attention. She was still hunched over pages and pages of sheet music, trying to come up with an unbeatable setlist, and she remembered vividly how stressed everyone was on the days leading up to Invitationals. "I get that you're worried, but Tommy has made a lot of progress since the beginning of the school year. Why don't you give him a chance?"

          "He still won't drop the fact that I choked during my NYSPA audition," Billie argued back. "He's not a team player, Isabella."

          "You know I was on your side when he was doing that, but I haven't heard him say a word about it lately. You'd be surprised by where I have eyes and ears," she added, when Billie opened her mouth to point out that, just because she hadn't heard it, it didn't mean it hadn't happened. "If Gwen is your friend, you kind of owe it to her to trust her judgment, even if it goes against your personal opinions and feelings." She looked up to finally keep eye contact with Billie and her facial expression softened significantly. "I don't think this is about the duet at all. I think you're hurt because you think you're being replaced"—Billie looked away from her the moment she felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes—"and those are valid feelings, but it doesn't necessarily mean it's true. Tommy is not the only one who needs to learn how to be a team player, Billie."

          She left Isabella's office, defeated, and realized she didn't have anything better to do during lunch while practice didn't start.

          She always hung out with Gwen, as they weren't as close to their other friends and classmates as they were to each other, and, now that Gwen wasn't speaking to her, Billie had been spending breaks by herself or with Waylon's group. Though she absolutely adored them—she truly thought she and Zara Taylor were kindred spirits—it simply wasn't the same.

          "You two need to swallow your pride and actually talk about what's bothering each of you," Zara advised, after Billie joined them and vented about her frustrations. She clearly had never gone through something like that, so Billie didn't expect her to understand. "She's your best friend, B. If she won't understand where you're coming from, then who will?"

          "It's not that simple," Billie protested. "You don't even like him, so I don't get why—"

          "That boy is living rent free in your head," Waylon pointed out, voice slightly muffled thanks to the cigarette he held between his lips. Landon, sitting next to him and tuning a guitar, nodded in support, as he always did. "I think maybe you should talk to him first, and then go back to Gwen. Your problem is with him, not with her, and it doesn't look like she's going to listen to you anytime soon."

          Billie groaned, throwing her hair back. Though the sky was clear, it was still pretty damn cold outside and she couldn't wait for Waylon to finish smoking. "So you get my problem, right? He's an untrustworthy weasel, a snake—"

          "We get that you don't like him," Landon intervened, without ever raising his head, "but have you ever stopped to think about the possibility that Gwen does?"

          "Who knew you'd be the one to be the most tactful of us all?" Levi commented, with a chuckle, and they all laughed, while Billie remained serious. Couldn't they understand what was really going on? Were they really that daft? Did they not care about the future and the survival of the group?

          Billie had, indeed, considered that possibility. It had been the first thing she'd thought about and it made her absolutely sick to her stomach, so she was now forcing herself to think about it as rarely as she possibly could.

          She could handle Gwen liking Tommy's talent. She'd understand that; even though she didn't like him, Billie knew he was talented and could sing his heart out if he put his mind into it.

          Hell, she could live peacefully if Gwen turned to her and said "hey, I kind of tolerate this guy. I know he's been treating us two like crap ever since we met, but I want to be the bigger person here and start treating him neutrally". However, if there were deeper, different feelings involved, she'd have to voice her distaste.

          Tommy Santos was nothing but an egotistical bully, and Gwen was too good for him. She could do so much better than him; why was she settling for something—and someone—who would never be a good match for her?

         "Time for rehearsal," Zara announced, fixing her heavy knit scarf around her neck and checking the time on her watch. It had snowed the day before, coating the pathways in soft white trails, and the temperature kept dropping, making it not a pleasant time to be outside. The curls Billie had spent so much time styling that morning were now getting out of control thanks to the humidity. "I'm so excited for this week's assignment!"

          Billie hummed in agreement as they sprinted inside in search for warmth.

          It was the week of International Women's Day, so the assignment for the week revolved around songs written and performed by women. She loved being a woman and wanted everyone to know about it, every intricacy of it, but she could also kill two birds with one stone. She could very well use the weekly assignment to remind Gwen of the great mistake she was about to make.

          The choir room was nearly full by the time they got there. There was no assigned seating, because it would be quite stupid if there was, but it didn't stop people from claiming certain seats. A.J., as always, sat front and center, a seat no one had dared to occupy during the period she was gone, flanked by Miyu and T.J., with Sasha scrolling through her phone behind her.

         Miyu's seat used to be Gwen's, at least on the first days of the club, but things had changed. People had changed, and so had the dynamics between them; people no one ever thought would get along were spending time together, and other friendships weren't as steady as they used to be.

         Thus, Billie decided to not sit next to Gwen, choosing to give her the space she so desperately wanted. She wouldn't pretend like it didn't hurt, because it stung like a goddamn bitch, but letting Gwen do whatever she wanted without interfering too much might be the right decision for both of them. She sat next to Brody instead, easily forgetting he'd once won a Grammy award at the tender age of twenty.

          She sighed to herself. She knew she was talented—she was one of the most gifted people in the entire club, if not the entirety of NYSPA—but she didn't have any accomplishments under her belt to actually prove it. Sure, she could belt out high, long notes as if it was nothing, but she needed evidence on paper. Landing that solo at Invitationals felt so hollow now.

         "Welcome, welcome", Isabella greeted, using her usual speech. She had brought the big binder along, meaning she still hadn't completed the setlist, and Billie knew she hadn't been the only one to notice that. Regionals were creeping closer, with Showcase and Nationals being held at the beginning of May, which Billie realized with a sinking stomach. There would be barely any time to practice after Regionals. "I hope all of you are as excited for this week's assignment as I am. In case you've forgotten, this week we'll be performing songs written and performed by women in celebration of International Women's Day." She mimicked the chef's kiss gesture, receiving a round of applause in response. "Now, I believe Sasha had something planned . . .?"

          Sasha rose from her seat, smoothing her plaid skirt as she walked towards the center of the room. Billie knew she'd been waiting for this theme for ages now and, if she hadn't, Billie would have stolen her place as the week's first performer.

          She was secretly glad she didn't do that. For starters, Sasha would never let her live it down; in spite of all her flaws and character development, she was still Sasha Van der Bilt, and a vindictive bitch at that. Appropriately, she sang Meredith Brooks' Bitch, a clear way of setting the tone for the rest of the week, and she looked pretty proud of herself as she returned to her seat.

          It was infuriating, Billie thought, how everyone seemed to get to sing but her. Every time she made a move to stand up and announce it was her turn in the spotlight, someone would be quicker or something would happen to prevent her from singing. She had to sit there, fuming, while the guys got to sing before she did, even Tommy and Gwen, who, unsurprisingly, sang that stupid duet together.

          Billie was once again reminded of why she disliked him so much. He'd had the audacity to rope Gwen into singing Rumour Has It with him, and she was sure he was looking straight at her when he sang the line I'm the one you're leaving her for. She felt about to explode, hands balled into fists so tight her perfectly manicured nails dug into her palms, and not even Brody's words of encouragement helped her feel better.

          How didn't anyone notice it? Why in the world was it allowed to make indirect snarky comments about your own teammates as long as you used a song to back you up? Why would she be crucified for even thinking about doing that exact same thing, and Tommy and Gwen were given a free pass?

         Rumour has it he's the one I'm leaving you for was the line who hurt the most, and Billie knew Gwen knew the effect it'd had on her. Gwen didn't seem too fazed by it, though, while Billie was trembling with fury like a Chihuahua. It wasn't like she could say anything about it, as no one would ever believe her, and she might as well choke halfway through it. She had already screwed things up, just like she had screwed up her first NYSPA audition, and second chances in this place were far from natural. They were rare exceptions.

          "Maybe you should go get some air," Brody advised.

          "Maybe you should mind your own business," she dryly retorted.

          Brody simply shrugged. "I'm not the one who got offended over one song." She grunted, arms crossed. "Billie, it's one song; she's still your friend."

         "She made it pretty clear she's replacing me, didn't she? Why should I even be bothered?"

          He sighed, filled with patience Billie would never have. "Didn't sound like that to me, but you're also free to perform whatever you like, in case you've forgotten. If you want to have the last laugh, no one is stopping you." He shifted in his seat. "I can be your guitarist, if you want."

          Her eyes darted towards Tommy and Gwen, too busy with a whispered conversation to acknowledge anything else that happened around them. The grand piano could explode into a billion pieces or Beyoncé could walk into the choir room, yet they still wouldn't notice a thing.

          Stomach turning, she nodded. Before anyone could walk in front of her, she raised an arm to grab Isabella's attention, and dragged poor Brody behind her, nearly making him trip and fall over the people sitting in front of them.

          She'd always wanted to sing Run the World. It was the perfect song for the week's theme, and she'd have other chances during the week, but there were more pressing things that needed to be handled. Brody looked somewhat confused when she told him she wanted to perform HAIM's Want You Back, but still climbed to a high stool, fixing his guitar on his bent leg. It was far from her comfort zone—she'd never been that great at acoustic, calmer performances, really—but she hoped it would get the message across.

         Gwen's expression was undecipherable. Both she and Tommy sat in identical poses, arms and legs crossed, and even Isabella commented the performance had certainly been 'something'. That was never a good sign and Billie's regret came bubbling up like scorching hot pools of lava.

          Then, Gwen stood up.

          "That was a low blow," she declared. "How could you—"

          "How could I what?" Billie snapped. "You were the ones making passive-aggressive comments about me with an Adele song, out of all things, but when I respond, suddenly it's a problem? I think you're being a hypocrite—"

          Gwen let out a humorless laugh, clearly hurt. "Wow. Okay. The very second I start making decisions for me and not for the sake of everyone else, the very second I take control of my narrative, I'm a hypocrite. That's grand." She grabbed her bag and Tommy looked up at her, the ice momentarily shattering. He looked up at her with so much affection Billie had to look away before she gagged. "I think you need to take a step back and realize not everything is about you."

          "You made it about me the moment you two—"

          "Don't rope me into this," Tommy chimed in, hands raised next to his shoulders. "This is clearly an issue between the two of you."

          "I'm not feeling too well," Gwen told Isabella, stone-faced. "I'm going to lie down."

          She slammed the door on her way out, and silence descended on the choir room like a heavy rain cloud. No one said anything for what felt like forever, still processing what had just happened. Surely Gwen wouldn't quit the club . . . right?

          "Well," A.J. said, "I'm glad this club's drama doesn't involve me for a change."