Chapter 17

(Sophie works in a studio and Billie leaves a hoodie behind. Sophie washes it and intends to return it, but Billie keeps finding excuses not to take it back. )

It happened on a night Billie barely remembered in pieces.

Not because it was important.

But because it was one of those nights that blurred together with too many lights, too many voices, too many “thank yous” said automatically instead of meaningfully. A studio session that had started with structure and ended in chaos. People drifting between rooms, laughter spilling into hallways, music half-finished on looping speakers, someone’s birthday cake sitting untouched on a counter that no one had time to properly celebrate.

It wasn’t the kind of night that stayed sharp in memory.

It was the kind that smeared.

Soft edges. Missing seconds. Overlapping conversations.

And Billie in the middle of it all, moving through it like she was slightly outside of it, as she often was when everything became too loud to properly hold onto.

At some point during the night, she had been cold.

Not in a dramatic way.

Just the quiet kind of cold that creeps in when your body stops noticing temperature changes because it’s too busy keeping up with everything else. The studio air conditioning had been too sharp, the hallway between rooms too empty, and her hoodie..her actual hoodie had been taken off earlier without thinking and left somewhere she couldn’t quite remember.

A chair, maybe.

A couch.

A corner where she had sat for five minutes too long answering a message she would later forget she sent.

She knew she had it.

That was the thing.

It wasn’t lost.

It was just… somewhere.

And that difference mattered less in the moment than it should have.

Someone had offered her another jacket at one point.

She declined without looking up.

“I’m fine,” she had said automatically.

Because she was always fine.

Until she wasn’t.

And then the night kept moving without her permission.

When she finally decided to leave, it didn’t even cross her mind.

The hoodie was not important enough to pull her back into the building.

So she walked out into the night, the cool air hitting her immediately, and thought nothing of it.

—

Sophie found it the next morning.

The studio was quieter during the day.

Not empty, just softer. Less chaotic. The kind of place where every sound felt intentional instead of accidental.

She was doing her usual rounds, checking rooms, tidying spaces that had been left in a state that only made sense if you had been there at three in the morning, when she noticed it.

A black hoodie.

Folded poorly over the back of a chair in the small kitchen area.

Like someone had meant to come back for it.

And didn’t.

She paused.

That was unusual.

People here didn’t leave things behind like that. Not valuable things. Not clothing that looked expensive even when it was casually thrown onto furniture.

Sophie picked it up carefully.

It was heavier than she expected.

Soft too, worn in a way that suggested it wasn’t just fashion, it was something lived in. Something repeatedly chosen.

There was a faint scent clinging to it.

Clean detergent.

Warm fabric.

Something faintly familiar she couldn’t place, which irritated her more than it should have.

She frowned slightly.

“…Okay,” she muttered.

Not to anyone.

Just to the hoodie.

Because there was no obvious owner.

And that meant she’d have to ask.

Later.

When she found time.

So she folded it properly instead.

Placed it neatly aside.

And went back to work.

She forgot about it for most of the day.

Which wasn’t unusual.

Sophie’s job was made of small things that didn’t demand immediate attention but accumulated anyway. Fixing cables. Reorganizing clutter. Answering questions that weren’t really questions. Making sure spaces stayed functional while other people made them chaotic.

By the time evening came, the hoodie had slipped entirely out of her mind.

Until someone walked in.

Billie arrived like she usually did..quiet entrance, slightly distracted expression, already mid-thought before she fully crossed the threshold.

She wasn’t thinking about anything specific.

Just the usual overlapping layers of her day.

Rehearsal.

Emails.

A conversation she didn’t fully finish.

The vague awareness that she was probably forgetting something.

She didn’t notice Sophie immediately.

Only the studio.

The familiar layout.

The quiet hum of something still being set up in another room.

And then..

“Is this yours?”

The voice pulled her attention sideways.

Sophie stood near the counter.

Holding something.

Billie blinked.

Then stopped completely when she saw it.

The hoodie.

“Oh,” she said immediately, relief flashing across her face. “Yeah-yeah, that’s mine.”

She walked over quickly, taking it from Sophie’s hands.

“You found it.”

“It was on a chair in the kitchen.”

Billie let out a small laugh, almost embarrassed.

“I probably left it in a rush.”

Sophie nodded once.

“I washed it.”

Billie paused mid-motion.

“…You what?”

Sophie shrugged slightly, like it was nothing.

“It was just sitting there.”

Billie looked down at it properly now.

The hoodie felt different.

Cleaner.

Soft in a way that suggested care, not just laundry.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said more softly.

Sophie glanced at her.

“It looked like someone would come back for it.”

Billie smiled faintly.

“I did.”

A pause.

Then, quieter:

“…Eventually.”

Sophie didn’t respond to that.

Just went back to what she was doing.

But something about her expression shifted slightly, barely noticeable. Like she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that answer.

Billie should’ve left.

She knew that.

She had somewhere else to be.

People waiting.

Things scheduled.

A life that didn’t pause just because she’d misplaced a hoodie.

But she stayed.

Leaning lightly against the counter, hoodie in hand instead of wearing it, watching Sophie move around the room with a kind of calm efficiency that felt completely opposite to the world she was used to.

“You always work here?” Billie asked eventually.

“Most days.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

Sophie didn’t look up.

“It’s predictable.”

Billie tilted her head slightly.

“That’s not the same thing.”

Sophie paused for a fraction of a second.

Then:

“No. It’s better.”

Billie smiled.

“You like predictable?”

“I like knowing what I’m walking into.”

Billie hummed softly.

“That’s rare.”

Sophie finally glanced at her.

“You don’t like it?”

Billie thought about it.

“I don’t really get it.”

Sophie nodded once.

“Yeah. I figured.”

Billie laughed under her breath.

“Why?”

“You seem like someone who’s used to things changing constantly.”

Billie’s smile faded slightly at the edges.

“…Yeah.”

That was accurate.

More accurate than she expected from someone who barely knew her.

Silence settled between them.

Not awkward.

Just full.

Sophie continued working.

Billie stayed where she was.

And something about that moment made neither of them rush to end it.

“You talk like you’ve got things figured out,” Billie said suddenly.

Sophie snorted softly.

“I don’t.”

“Really?”

“I just know what I don’t want.”

Billie nodded slowly.

“That’s still something.”

Sophie glanced at her.

“It is.”

A pause.

Then, lightly:

“You’re still here.”

Billie smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Billie looked down at the hoodie in her hands.

Then back up.

“I don’t know.”

Honest.

Simple.

Unpolished.

Sophie studied her for a second longer than necessary.

Then nodded once.

“Fair.”

Billie finally pushed off the counter.

“I should probably go.”

Sophie didn’t stop her.

Just gave a small nod.

“Yeah.”

A beat.

Then..

“You’ll probably lose it again.”

Billie laughed.

“Excuse me?”

“The hoodie.”

Billie raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t lose things that often.”

Sophie looked at her.

Completely unamused.

Billie sighed dramatically.

“…Okay, that was fair.”

She walked toward the door.

Then paused.

Turned slightly.

“You work tomorrow?”

Sophie hesitated.

“Yeah.”

Billie nodded.

“…Cool.”

Another pause.

Then she left.

Sophie stood there for a moment after she was gone.

Looking at the space where she had been.

Then at the counter.

Then, almost absentmindedly, at the hoodie still folded neatly.

And for reasons she didn’t fully understand yet..

She didn’t put it away immediately.

Outside, Billie stepped into the street.

Thinking about why she left the hoodie again.

But something about it now felt… different.

Like it wasn’t just hers anymore.

Like it had been somewhere else too.

And for a reason she couldn’t name yet..

She already knew she’d be back.

Not for the hoodie.

Not really.

But for whatever had just started happening inside that quiet studio with a girl who looked at her like she was just another person walking in through the door.

And that was the problem.

Because Billie was used to being unforgettable.

But Sophie hadn’t reacted like she was.

Not even a little.

And for the first time in a long time..

That made her want to return.

—-

Billie came back the next day.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just appearing in the doorway like she had somewhere else to be but had taken a slight detour without fully admitting it to herself.

Sophie looked up from her clipboard.

“You forgot it again?”

Billie blinked.

“…What?”

Sophie pointed at the hoodie.

Billie looked down at it like it had personally betrayed her.

“Oh. Right.”

A pause.

Then, casually:

“Guess I did.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes slightly.

“You were just here yesterday.”

Billie shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t notice?”

“I noticed,” Billie corrected. “I just… left it.”

Sophie didn’t respond immediately.

Just handed it over.

Slowly.

Like she wasn’t entirely convinced.

Billie should’ve left after that.

She really should’ve.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she lingered near the counter again, like it had somehow become the default place her body went without asking permission.

Sophie noticed.

Of course she did.

“You’re still here,” she said flatly.

Billie smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Billie hesitated.

Then shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

Sophie didn’t look convinced.

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s honest.”

Sophie sighed.

“Unhelpful, but honest.”

Billie laughed softly.

“That’s kind of my brand.”

The next day, Billie came back again.

This time without the hoodie.

Sophie didn’t even get a chance to speak before Billie walked in, looked around, and said:

“…I left my sunglasses here.”

Sophie stared.

“You were here for ten minutes yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And you wore sunglasses indoors.”

“I forgot I was wearing them.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Billie smiled.

“It does to me.”

Sophie sighed and disappeared into the back room.

When she returned, she held them up.

Billie reached for them.

Then paused.

“You found them fast.”

Sophie shrugged.

“You always leave things in the same places.”

Billie blinked.

“…I do not.”

Sophie gave her a look.

Billie paused.

“…Okay, that’s fair.”

But she didn’t leave.

Again.

And this time, Sophie noticed something different.

Billie wasn’t rushing.

Wasn’t distracted.

Wasn’t constantly checking her phone like she was halfway in another world.

She was just… there.

Sitting on the edge of a table.

Talking.

“I don’t get how you remember where everything is,” Billie said.

Sophie didn’t look up from her work.

“I pay attention.”

“That’s exhausting.”

“It’s useful.”

Billie tilted her head.

“You ever get tired of being useful?”

Sophie paused for a second.

Then quietly:

“…Sometimes.”

That made Billie look at her differently.

Like she hadn’t expected that answer.

The third time, it was keys.

Sophie didn’t even ask.

She just held them up when Billie walked in.

Billie stopped in the doorway.

“…Don’t say it.”

“You forgot your keys.”

Billie sighed dramatically.

“I didn’t forget them. I strategically misplaced them.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is in my world.”

Sophie walked past her.

“Your world sounds chaotic.”

“It is.”

A beat.

Then Billie added, softer:

“But it’s less chaotic here.”

Sophie paused slightly.

Just enough to notice.

Then continued walking.

But her expression shifted.

Barely.

It became a pattern after that.

A rhythm neither of them acknowledged directly.

Billie would show up.

Something would be “missing.”

Sophie would already know where it was.

And Billie would stay longer than necessary every single time.

Sometimes it was real things.

Sometimes it was excuses.

Sometimes it was just:

“I think I left something.”

And Sophie would just look at her and say:

“Did you?”

And Billie would smile like she was caught.

And in between all of it..

They talked.

Properly.

Not small talk anymore.

Not surface-level.

But real things.

Sophie learned Billie didn’t sleep well.

Billie learned Sophie hated noise she couldn’t control.

Sophie learned Billie sometimes forgot to eat when she was overwhelmed.

Billie learned Sophie always noticed when people were lying but rarely called them out.

One afternoon, Sophie said it bluntly:

“You don’t actually lose things that often.”

Billie froze slightly.

“…What?”

Sophie leaned against the counter.

“You keep coming back.”

Silence.

Billie didn’t answer immediately.

Then, lightly:

“I like the studio.”

Sophie shook her head.

“No.”

Billie blinked.

“No?”

“That’s not why.”

A pause.

Then softer:

“You just like being here.”

Billie looked at her.

Longer this time.

Less playful.

More honest.

“…Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I think I do.”

Sophie didn’t respond immediately.

Just nodded once.

Like that was enough.

But her expression softened slightly anyway.

It happened slowly after that.

Without either of them naming it.

Without either of them stepping back.

Without either of them stopping the pattern that had become routine.

Billie would arrive.

Sophie would already be waiting.

And somewhere between lost sunglasses and “forgotten” keys and hoodie returns that barely felt like accidents anymore,

They started talking like people who already knew each other.

Not learning.

Just remembering.

“You’re doing it again,” Sophie said one evening.

Billie looked up.

“Doing what?”

“This.”

Billie tilted her head.

“Being here?”

Sophie shook her head slightly.

“No.”

A pause.

Then:

“Staying.”

Billie smiled faintly.

“…Is that bad?”

Sophie didn’t answer immediately.

Then quietly:

“No.”

That was all.

But it was enough.

Later that night, when the studio was almost empty again, Billie didn’t leave right away.

Neither did Sophie.

Billie sat on the floor, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands.

Sophie was packing things away slower than usual.

Not because she had to.

But because she wasn’t rushing anymore.

“You know,” Billie said softly, “this started because I kept forgetting things.”

Sophie glanced at her.

“Yeah.”

Billie smiled slightly.

“I think I remember on purpose now.”

Sophie paused.

Looked at her.

Longer than before.

Then:

“…Yeah?”

Billie nodded.

“Yeah.”

A beat.

Then quieter:

“Because it means I come back.”

Silence.

Heavier now.

Not uncomfortable.

Just real.

Sophie stopped moving completely.

For a moment, the entire room felt still.

Then she set something down carefully.

Walked closer.

Slow.

Not uncertain.

Just deliberate.

“You’re going to make this complicated,” Sophie said softly.

Billie looked up at her.

“I think it already is.”

Sophie exhaled.

Then..

“Good.”

And kissed her.

No hesitation.

No confusion.

Just something that had been building in every forgotten item and every unnecessary return finally becoming obvious enough to stop ignoring.

When they pulled apart, neither of them spoke immediately.

The studio hummed faintly in the background.

But between them,

Everything had changed.

Billie smiled slightly.

“So… I forgot my keys again tomorrow?”

Sophie let out a quiet laugh.

“Absolutely not.”

Billie grinned.

“…Worth a try.”

And for the first time..

Sophie didn’t tell her to leave.