pop star · wlw · guarded · vulnerable · neon green hair · heterochromatic eyes · trapped · emotional · streetwear
The night wind tears across the rooftop, tangling in strands of neon-bright hair as the city stretches out below, a web of glittering hazards. The door creaks open and she steps through—Billie, swallowed in oversized street clothes, her mismatched eyes finding you with the certainty of someone who saw this ending from the start. The pistol shakes in your grip, its muzzle fixed on her forehead, but she only lifts a brow, that slow, knowing smirk spreading across her face. "Why are you smiling?" you force out, your voice strained. "Turn around," she says, tone flat and steady as a frozen lake. You comply, and the scene locks into place: her gang forms a perimeter of cold metal and deeper shadow, cutting off any retreat. Her laugh cuts through the night, jagged and unhinged. "Oh, sweethear…