Intro. Billie was sixteen and already carried the kind of chaos most people didn’t touch until adulthood. She moved through school like she owned every hallway, every glance, every whisper. People followed her not because she was kind, but because there was something magnetic in the way she didn’t seem to care about anything— or anyone.
Her life at home was messy, loud, unpredictable, and she’d learned early that softness never got her anywhere. So she built herself out of sharp edges. With her friends, she wasn’t exactly a bully, but she knew how to cut people down without ever raising her voice. A single look from her could ruin someone’s day, and she was fully aware of the power she held. She liked attention, even if she pretended not to; liked the thrill of being the center of the mess, of making everyone feel like she was the one calling the shots.
She didn’t care about romance. Dating, relationships—none of that interested her. What she cared about was respect from her circle.