After the halftime show, Ethan sat there, his body practically vibrating with excitement. The rush of emotions, the energy of the crowd, the sheer spectacle of it all—it was overwhelming in the best way possible. The realization that this very moment was being watched by millions, maybe even billions, of people across the globe only made his adrenaline spike higher. He had never experienced anything like this before, and the thrill of it all left him nearly breathless.
He wasn't exactly a die-hard fan of the sport itself, but there were definitely things about the Super Bowl he had become a fan of tonight. First, the commercials—though not the usual ones pushing random products. Sure, those were cool, and he figured it would be insane to see himself in one someday, but what really caught his attention were the movie trailers. As a self-proclaimed movie geek, he had been buzzing with excitement at the sneak peeks. The moment he caught glimpses of upcoming films like Doctor Strange, Sonic the Hedgehog, and, most importantly, The Batman, he had immediately saved the release dates to his calendar. That one? The Batman? Yeah, that was his personal favorite of the night.
But what truly had him hooked—what had him completely obsessed—was the halftime performance. He had always been a fan of the artists and even the show but tonight had changed something in him. This wasn't just about watching his favorite musicians anymore. No. Now, he could see himself there. Standing on that stage, feeling the roar of the crowd, owning the moment the way they did. It wasn't just a dream anymore. It was a vision, a promise he made to himself right then and there. He was going to do this. He had to. The idea was already taking shape in his mind, plans forming on how he would talk to his team about making it happen. One day, he wouldn't be sitting in the stands watching—he would be the one performing.
As he was lost in thought, a voice beside him pulled him back to reality.
"What are you thinking about that's got you smiling like that?"
Ethan turned to see Billie Eilish looking at him, her head tilted slightly in curiosity. Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression.
For the past while, they had been talking, and whatever initial awkwardness had come from meeting each other had long since faded. Out of all the younger crowd here tonight, she was easily the one he had spoken to the most. Hailie and her friends seemed wrapped up in their podcast discussions, and her brother, Finneas, had been completely absorbed in the game, along with the rest of the guys who had come with Eminem, 50 Cent, and Dr. Dre.
Here, with Billie, the conversation had just flowed. And for some reason, he found himself smiling even wider as he turned to answer her.
Hearing what she said, Ethan gave Billie a soft smile, though it looked a little off—clearly still under the influence of whatever he had taken earlier. His bright blue eyes were slightly hazy, his body still buzzing from the energy of the event. "I just really want to be on there," he said, his voice filled with longing as he gazed back at the field.
Billie tilted her head slightly, watching him with amusement. She had noticed how caught up he was in the halftime show, how every little detail had him mesmerized. Smirking, she leaned back and said, "Dude, you're still on that?"
"Yes," Ethan responded without hesitation. His voice carried the same passion, the same urgency. Then, turning to face her more fully, he added, "You should know how it feels too, don't you? You can't tell me you don't want to be on there." His words were fast, tumbling out in an eager rush.
Billie sighed, pretending to think for a moment before conceding, "Well… I guess you're right."
Ethan scoffed at her response, shaking his head. "No, not guess—I know I'm right." His voice picked up, excitement bubbling over as he gestured wildly. "The crowd, the energy, the everything! It's insane! You're insane! I'm insane! We're all insane! I can't believe I'm a pop star sitting next to a pop star, invited by my favorite rapper in the world. This is it. This is the life." His voice was practically vibrating with excitement as he leaned in closer, his face just inches from hers. "I love being popular."
The sudden proximity startled Billie, making her lean back instinctively. "Dude," she muttered, her green eyes widening slightly.
Ethan, oblivious, grinned even wider. "Don't you love it too? Everything? This is amazing!" His voice was breathless, like he was still trying to process the sheer enormity of the moment. His bright blue eyes locked onto hers, shimmering under the stadium lights.
Thank God they were inside the suite room because if someone had snapped a picture of this moment and leaked it, the internet would have exploded, and the Super Bowl would have dropped from its regained top spot to second place in an instant.
Billie, after a moment of being caught off guard, suddenly burst into laughter. "Dude… what are you on?" she said between chuckles.
Ethan leaned back with a dramatic sigh, throwing his arms over the back of the couch. "Life. I'm on life. And it feels so good."
Billie smirked at his theatrics. "If that's life, then I guess I ain't living," she said, chuckling at her own joke.
They shared a laugh before Billie stretched her arms and let out a small sigh. "But about what you said earlier—popularity? Yeah, it's fun. It has its highs. The thrill of getting into trouble, the unlimited access, the…" She paused, tilting her head as she thought of a few perks. "The private jets, the exclusive parties, the front-row seats to literally anything."
Ethan nodded furiously, his curls bouncing with every movement. "Yes, yes, yes."
"And, of course," Billie added with a smirk, "the money. We can never forget about the money."
Ethan clapped his hands together, pointing at her. "Yes! Never forget the money. It's one of my favorite parts too," he said with exaggerated seriousness.
Billie burst out laughing again before her expression shifted slightly. "But it also has its lows."
Her voice dropped just a little, and Ethan noticed the change immediately. He turned to face her properly as she continued, "The lack of privacy. The criticism. The mental pressure. The constant expectation to be perfect, to never mess up, to always be the version of yourself that people want to see." She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "And worst of all, the toll it takes on family. The constant harassment. My parents being chased by the press. My mom getting attacked in a supermarket just because she gave an interview about me." She shook her head slightly. "Honestly, I don't know how I'd do this without my brother. If I didn't have Finneas with me… I don't know." She hesitated before sighing. "I've lost a lot already."
She shook her head, as if clearing the thought from her mind, before forcing a small laugh. "Wait… why am I even telling you all this?"
Ethan, who had been listening intently, leaned back with a playful smirk. "Probably 'cause I'm pretty. I've been told girls talk to pretty boys easier." He wiggled his eyebrows.
Billie rolled her eyes before letting out a sarcastic, "Yeah, I'm sure that's why." She laughed again, and Ethan joined in.
Then, after a beat, Ethan sat up a little straighter. "Okay, to make it fair, I'll tell you one of my low points too."
Billie gave him a skeptical look. "Go on, I'm not stopping you."
Ethan scoffed, shaking his head playfully. "Yeah, yeah."
They laughed together before he finally continued. "Actually, it should be when I was recording my first album."
Billie nodded, signaling for him to go on. "Yeah?"
"Well, when I was recording my first album, this very famous singer messaged me." He paused, watching her reaction.
She leaned in slightly, intrigued. "And?"
"And when I replied back—can you believe—she left me on read?"
Billie blinked before shoving him playfully. "You—"
Ethan erupted into laughter. "It was really heartbreaking. She ruined me." He clutched his chest dramatically. "My self-esteem? Gone. My confidence? Destroyed."
Billie rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a grin. "Yeah, yeah. I already told you sorry for that."
Ethan grinned wider. "You better be."
They laughed together again before Ethan took a deep breath. Then, his expression softened. "Honestly? I don't think I've experienced a real low point yet. I love everything about this. The fame, the fans, the energy—it shows me how much people love me, how important I am." His voice was full of admiration. "Hearing the crowd chant my name… I just love it all." Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "Plus, the money ain't bad."
Billie shook her head, laughing. "Of course not."
Then, her expression turned a little more serious. "Just don't forget the main person to get validation from."
Ethan tilted his head slightly. "Who?"
Billie gave him a knowing look. "Yourself. Don't ever forget who you are, why you do this, and who you do it for. The world's going to tell you who you should be, what you should do, and how you should act—but at the end of the day, you have to be the one to look in the mirror and be okay with what you see."
Hearing that, Ethan just nodded, both of them looking at each other. The whole place was quiet—despite being in a stadium packed with tens of thousands of people, it felt as if they were the only two in the room. The noise of the crowd, the distant hum of conversations, even the occasional roar of excitement—it all faded into the background as they locked eyes, lost in the moment.
Then, the silence was broken by Ethan's voice. "Wow, that was beautiful. Wait—how old are you? I feel like you're way too young to be that smart," he said, laughing.
Billie rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him. "What's wrong with you? I was being serious here," she said, but the smile on her face never wavered.
And that was how the rest of the game went—just the two of them, talking, laughing, getting lost in conversations that flowed from one topic to another. It was as if they were in their own little world, separate from everything happening around them. The game, the crowd, the celebrities, even the fact that they were in the middle of one of the biggest sporting events in the world—it all became secondary to the connection they were sharing in that moment.
After a while, as their conversation continued, they were suddenly interrupted by a voice calling out.
"Billie! Billie!"
They both turned to see her brother, Finneas, standing there.
"Oh, Finneas, what's up?" she asked casually.
Her brother, however, gave them both a look before speaking. "Okay then... Just wanted to say let's go. The game is over. You need to head downstairs, get some pictures with a few stars, and then the car and the guards are ready. Also, Maddie is coming with us."
Both Billie and Ethan blinked in surprise before speaking at the same time. "Wait—already?"
"Yeah, it just ended," Finneas confirmed, looking mildly amused at their synchronized reaction.
"Oh, okay then. Let's go, I'm on my way," Billie said, stretching a little as she prepared to leave. Then, just as she was about to turn away, she suddenly paused. "Oh, almost forgot," she said, spinning back around to face Ethan. "I had a great time with you tonight. You're fun. Text me this time—let's actually talk about the song. Don't worry, I promise I'll reply this time." She smiled, her eyes warm with sincerity waving at him.
Ethan grinned as he waved back then he heard a ding. His eyes flicked down to his phone, catching a new message on the screen—a text from Eminem. Looked like he finally got an update on where Em had disappeared to after the halftime show.
And that was when the thought struck him.
"Wait," he said suddenly, his voice halting Billie just as she was about to leave.
She raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Ethan hesitated for just a second before looking up at her, his blue eyes filled with excitement and something else—something almost daring.
"Do you want to go to the afterparty with me?"