Chapter 21

(Billie spends a ten-hour flight next to India, a stranger who talks to her like she’s just another passenger. )

The airport already felt like a different world before the plane even left the ground.

Everything was too bright, too structured, too aware of itself. People moved in straight lines pretending they weren’t rushing. Voices bounced off glass walls and disappeared into announcements that never really meant anything personal. Billie always found airports strange like that places full of movement that somehow still felt suspended.

First class made it worse.

Not louder. Not busier.

Just more watched.

She slid into her seat by the window, pulling her hoodie sleeves down over her fingers out of habit. She didn’t like how exposed first class felt sometimes, even with all the space. It wasn’t privacy it was distance dressed up as comfort.

Ten hours.

She leaned her head back and exhaled slowly.

Too long to think.

Which meant she would think anyway.

Someone sat down beside her a few minutes later.

Billie didn’t look immediately. She had learned that sometimes looking first made things more complicated than they needed to be.

The movement beside her was quiet. Careful. A bag placed gently under the seat. A soft sigh as the person settled in.

Then..

“Hey,” a voice said.

Not loud.

Not performative.

Just… there.

Billie finally turned.

A girl.

Dark hair slightly messy like she had run through the airport without caring too much about perfection. A simple jacket. A book already halfway out of her bag like she had planned to read it and then immediately given up on pretending she would.

But it was her face that stayed with Billie for a second longer than expected.

Not because it was familiar.

Because it wasn’t trying to be anything other than itself.

“…Hey,” Billie answered.

A pause.

Then the seatbelt clicks.

And just like that, they were stuck in the same space for ten hours.

At first, there was silence.

The kind that usually stayed that way.

Billie looked out the window. The runway lights stretched in long lines that blurred slightly as the plane began to move. She always liked this part the moment before leaving the ground, when everything still belonged to the world below.

She assumed the girl next to her would stay quiet.

Most people did.

Especially here.

Especially around her.

But after a while..

“You travel a lot?” the girl asked.

Billie blinked slightly, turning her head.

“…Yeah.”

The girl nodded like that made sense.

“I hate long flights,” she added casually.

Billie let out a short breath that almost turned into a laugh.

“Same.”

That should’ve ended it.

It didn’t.

Conversation didn’t happen like an explosion between them.

It happened in pieces.

Small openings that neither of them seemed in a hurry to close.

“I’m India,” the girl said at one point, adjusting her seat slightly like she had finally decided she was allowed to get comfortable.

Billie nodded.

“Billie.”

India smiled faintly.

“Nice to meet you.”

And Billie noticed something strange.

No hesitation.

No double take.

No shift in tone.

Just acceptance, like her name was just a name.

Not a headline.

Not a weight.

Not a story.

Just… hers.

That alone made Billie’s chest feel slightly less tight.

The plane lifted eventually.

The city shrinking below them like something slowly letting go.

Billie watched it for a long time.

India didn’t interrupt that.

She just sat there, quietly existing beside her, occasionally adjusting her book or sipping water or stretching her legs without making it a performance.

And for reasons Billie couldn’t quite explain, that mattered more than it should have.

They started talking properly somewhere above the clouds.

Not forced.

Not planned.

Just… happening.

India asked about food first.

Then sleep.

Then whether Billie preferred window or aisle seats.

Billie answered without thinking too much.

It felt easier than usual.

Less like she was being interpreted and more like she was just responding.

“You don’t like small talk,” India said at one point, not accusatory.

Observing.

Billie paused.

“…No.”

India nodded.

“I don’t either.”

That made Billie look at her properly.

Most people said that and immediately filled the silence anyway.

India didn’t.

She just let it sit.

Hours passed in a strange blur.

Meals came and went.

Lights dimmed and returned.

Somewhere between those moments, Billie stopped being aware of the plane as a space she was trapped in.

And started noticing the person next to her instead.

India had a way of listening that made Billie talk more than she intended to.

Not because she was pushing.

Because she wasn’t.

There was no pressure in her attention.

Just presence.

And that was unfamiliar enough to be dangerous in a quiet way.

At one point, Billie caught herself saying something personal without meaning to.

Something small.

Something she usually kept folded away.

She stopped mid-sentence.

India didn’t react.

Didn’t ask for more.

Just nodded slightly like she understood the weight of what wasn’t finished.

That made Billie continue.

“I overthink everything,” Billie admitted quietly at one point, staring at her hands.

India glanced at her.

“Yeah?”

Billie nodded.

“Always.”

A pause.

Then India said softly:

“That sounds exhausting.”

Billie let out a quiet laugh.

“It is.”

India leaned her head back slightly.

“Then don’t think for a bit.”

Billie looked at her.

“…That’s not how it works.”

India shrugged lightly.

“It is for me.”

That made Billie smile despite herself.

Somewhere mid-flight, India fell asleep.

Not dramatically.

Just slowly.

Her head tilted slightly toward the window, then stabilized against the seat. Her book slipped halfway down her lap, still open but unread.

Billie noticed immediately.

She didn’t move away.

She just adjusted slightly so India wouldn’t end up uncomfortable.

Then looked out the window again like it didn’t mean anything.

It did.

But she didn’t want to examine why.

When India woke up later, she blinked slowly.

“Sorry,” she said immediately.

Billie shook her head.

“Don’t be.”

India looked at her for a second longer than necessary.

“You didn’t move.”

Billie hesitated.

“You were fine.”

A beat.

Then India smiled faintly.

“Okay.”

Like she trusted her.

That trust was… new.

Billie wasn’t used to being believed that easily.

As the flight went on, something subtle started happening between them.

Not tension.

Not romance.

Not yet.

Just awareness.

Of each other.

Of pauses that lasted slightly longer than necessary.

Of glances that didn’t immediately move away.

Of comfort that was starting to feel dangerous in the best possible way.

Near the end of the flight, India spoke quietly.

“You’re quieter than I expected.”

Billie blinked.

“…What did you expect?”

India thought for a moment.

“Louder.”

Billie let out a soft laugh.

“Yeah. I get that a lot.”

“But you’re not really like that.”

Billie looked at her.

“…No.”

India nodded slowly.

“I like that.”

That landed differently.

Billie didn’t respond immediately.

The plane began its descent eventually.

Lights came back on.

People started shifting, waking, gathering things that had been temporarily theirs.

The moment was ending.

Normal life returning.

Billie didn’t like how final it felt.

India stretched slightly.

“Well,” she said softly, “I guess this is it.”

Billie nodded.

“Yeah.”

A pause.

Then India smiled a little.

“It was nice talking to you, Billie.”

Billie hesitated.

“…Yeah.”

Then softer:

“You too.”

They stood.

Collected bags.

Moved like strangers again.

That was the rule.

That was the expectation.

Billie didn’t think much of it as she left the plane.

Not immediately.

Flights did that.

People blurred.

Moments disappeared into memory without asking permission.

The show came later.

Lights. Noise. Movement. Familiar chaos.

Everything too loud again.

Everything back to normal.

She didn’t expect to see India again.

Not really.

Not in a way that mattered.

But after the show, backstage was still buzzing when Billie caught sight of her.

Not immediately.

Just a shift in movement near the edge of the room.

Then…

India turned slightly.

And everything slowed.

Billie stopped.

For a second, she thought she had imagined it.

Then she stepped closer.

“…You’re here,” she said quietly.

India nodded.

“Yeah.”

A pause.

Then:

“I was at the show.”

Billie blinked.

“…You were?”

India hesitated.

Just enough.

Then nodded again.

Something in Billie’s expression changed.

Slowly.

Realization forming in pieces.

“…You knew,” she said quietly.

Not accusing.

Just understanding.

India didn’t deny it.

Silence.

Not heavy.

Just honest.

“I didn’t want the flight to feel different,” India admitted softly.

Billie studied her.

“You didn’t say anything.”

India shook her head.

“No.”

A pause.

Then quieter:

“Because I liked it.”

That hit deeper than anything else had.

Because it meant the version of Billie that existed on that plane had been real.

Not shaped.

Not adjusted.

Just… her.

Billie looked away for a second.

Then back.

“…And now?”

India met her eyes.

“Now I just know I was right.”

Billie frowned slightly.

“About what?”

India smiled faintly.

“That you’re better when people don’t try to define you too quickly.”

And for the first time since the plane had landed..

Billie didn’t know how to respond.

But she didn’t want to walk away either.