January 1st, 2000 – Los Angeles, California
While fireworks exploded over the Hollywood Hills, and people across the globe celebrated the dawn of a new millennium, inside a small private hospital in Beverly Hills, a louder noise echoed down the corridor: the cry of a baby who already had stage presence.
Ethan James Walker entered the world at 12:00 a.m. sharp, like he was perfectly timed for the spotlight. Nurses swore the room's light flickered when he opened his eyes. One of them joked, "This one's gonna break hearts and records." They weren't wrong.
Ethan was... different.
By age two, he had an unsettling level of coordination. By four, he could repeat melodies on a toy keyboard with perfect pitch. His parents—an ex-model and a washed-up bassist from a 90s band—had no clue what to do with a kid like that. So, they did what any LA couple would: signed him with an agent.
His first gig was a cereal commercial. He had one line: "Yum!" He winked instead. The editors kept the wink. Sales spiked.
But Ethan hated being told what to do. Even at five. Especially at five. In kindergarten, he rewrote the school play's script because "the dialogue was weak." The teacher, flustered, let him perform it anyway. It got a standing ovation from confused parents.
By ten, Ethan was a viral sensation for dribbling past high schoolers in a charity soccer match. By thirteen, he won a national teen singing competition and declined a record deal. "I'm not ready," he said on live TV. "But they will be."
---
2023 – Los Angeles, California
The Staples Center buzzed with anticipation. Sold-out. Thousands of fans wore LED bracelets that pulsed to the bass of Ethan Walker's intro track. Backstage, Ethan stood in front of the mirror adjusting a silver chain around his neck. He was calm. Focused. Untouchable.
His manager, Kenny—a former tour drummer turned full-time worrier—paced nearby.
"You good, E?"
"Better than the Lakers," Ethan replied, flashing a grin. "And I don't even need overtime."
He checked his phone. Two texts.
— Netflix: "Wrapped. You killed it. Premiere in July."
— Coach D: "Insane game today. Rest those legs, rockstar."
Yep. He scored the winning goal for Team USA that morning. Took a nap. And now, headlined his biggest concert to date. All in 24 hours.
Most people spent their twenties figuring life out. Ethan spent his making it look easy.
"Ten seconds," Kenny called. The band took positions.
Ethan cracked his knuckles, grabbed his guitar, and walked into the roar of 20,000 voices.
---
The Show Was Fire.
Literally. Flames shot up during his third song, synchronized with every beat. Ethan danced like he wasn't human—flawless, but effortless. His voice flipped from smooth to raw in seconds, leaving the audience gasping.
Halfway through, he paused and took a breath. The crowd shouted his name.
He raised a hand. Silence.
"Wanna hear something unreleased?" he said, playful.
The response was a collective scream that could've registered on the Richter scale.
The first chords hit. Soft. Emotional. Then—
Her voice joined his.
Billie Eilish.
Casual. Cool. Dangerous in the most magnetic way.
She walked out wearing an oversized Lakers hoodie, hair in loose waves, barefoot like always. The audience flipped. Cameras flew up. Ethan just smiled.
Their duet wasn't scheduled. It wasn't announced. It wasn't needed.
But it became the moment.
Two voices—one velvet, one fire—merged like magic. Lights dimmed. Phones lit up the arena. Fans swayed. Security guards cried (probably). And Billie leaned her head on Ethan's shoulder during the last verse.
He leaned in and whispered something. She laughed.
Later, social media would explode. Theories, lip-readers, endless memes.
What did he say?
Only she knew.
---
Backstage – Later That Night
Ethan peeled off his jacket and chugged a bottle of water. He still had energy to spare. Billie sat on the couch, scrolling through tweets.
"They think we're dating again," she said without looking up.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Did we stop?"
She smirked. "No comment."
Kenny burst in. "Okay. New York Times wants an interview. Jimmy Fallon's people called. Also, Tom Brady apparently said you're 'a freak of nature.' That's a quote."
"Tell Tom thanks," Ethan said. "He still can't beat me in Madden."
Billie threw a pillow at him.
---
Outside the Arena
Fans chanted his name. Reporters swarmed. Paparazzi cameras flashed like machine guns. Ethan walked out with a hoodie up, arm around Billie, both laughing like high schoolers sneaking out after curfew.
This was his life now.
Music. Fame. Sports. Acting. Love. Chaos.
And Ethan?
He was just getting started.