Chapter Text
Daisy’s interview is one of the first to come out, and soon enough everyone is speculating who she might be referring to not only in her songs but in the interview as well. Some say it’s about some guy she briefly dated a few months ago, others are wiser and point at Billy because of all their shared story and secrets.
When the interview comes out, Billy tries his best to avoid it. He believes that if he doesn’t mention it, he may forget it exists, and maybe Camila will follow him in his delusion.
He should have been wiser, he must admit, because he hasn’t talked to Camila about the whole interview mistake in which he talks about Daisy when he was supposed to talk about his wife – that’s a big thing to not mention to your wife.
And Camila is understanding, but understanding arrives up until a certain point. Their relationship is way too fragile, and something like this could easily blow it up.
The thing with Camila is that if she doesn’t ask, he doesn’t tell. They’re more comfortable that way, and he believes that it is Camila’s way of letting him keep not only his secrets but his guilt. So, when he does the interview and Camila doesn’t specifically ask what they talked about, just questions whether he had a good time, he doesn’t mention the question that will tie Daisy and him together once again.
So when they announce the date of Daisy’s interview release, he thinks maybe not talking about it might help. If he’s lucky enough, Camila won’t find out, and if she does, she maybe doesn’t want to watch it.
Until one day he arrives home from his running session and finds Julia and Camila with popcorn on the couch, watching TV. They’re watching the adverts like they’re the most interesting thing in the world, and that’s his first alarm sign.
“What are my girls up to?” he asks.
“Daisy is getting interviewed today!” Julia says, enthusiastic. She’s almost six years old but she’s still obsessed with Daisy Jones, and he can’t blame her. He would even say she’s her biggest fan.
So, of course, Julia did everything in her power to convince Camila to watch it, and of course, she succeeded, because Julia and Camila both share that ability to make people do things they didn’t want to do in the first place, and Julia is probably the only person that can convince Camila to do anything.
Billy looks at Camila with a tense smile, and Camila just simply nods, giving her approval. “Do you want to join?” it looks like a test and it feels like it, so he just nods and sits on the couch, waiting for Daisy to appear on TV.
When she does, she looks different than she did in Chicago. She’s always been beautiful, but this time he looks at her with a different light. You can hear in her voice she’s present in the interview, healthy, something he hadn’t gotten the chance to see a lot back in the Aurora tour. Her voice is somehow softer, and she seems to be taking special care of everything she says like she’s too in her head about it.
She looks nervous if he has to judge by the way she’s constantly moving the rings in her fingers while talking. He tries to keep his reaction neutral, too aware of Camila’s eyes being set on him and how he reacts instead of on the TV.
The first song that she sings is “All These Months”, and no one wants to be a douchebag that thinks everything revolves around them, but his name is clearly written all over the lyrics. He can even hear himself in her words.
He’s too aware of the way Daisy’s voice works, how she sings, to the point he knows the exact moment she fears her voice will crack, and how she tries to keep it together so no one will see.
Reading Daisy has always been easy for him, like second nature. Sometimes she was unpredictable, a burning fire that you couldn’t control, but he’s always been capable of seeing right through her, to decipher her through music.
It’s not the first time he hears the album – he bought a copy for Jules the moment it came out. It was a perfectly good excuse, buying the record for his six-year-old daughter, when the truth is that all he wanted to do is hear himself in the tracks. Hear if she still thought about him.
It’s some kind of torture for him, knowing that somewhere in the world, Daisy Jones still has him in her heart. Just like he has her in his.
Daisy talks and briefly mentions her time in The Six and how she’s healthier now, how she got clean for herself after Chicago. And Billy can’t help but feel proud of her. He always wanted this life for her, this freedom. He doesn’t think Daisy could see herself as worthy of the life she has now back then, but he did. He knew she was capable of getting clean and being happy, she just had to want to fight for it.
And that’s how she is different from him. Daisy Jones can and will do things for herself, while he does them for someone else, giving the burden to others so that he may succeed.
“Daddy, look! She went to that place you went.” Julia mentions, excitedly. A six-year-old has limited knowledge of what rehab is, but Billy didn’t want to lie to her when he came back home –didn’t want to keep pretending he was out making music when music was the last thing on his mind—, so he was honest instead.
He wasn’t about to confess his every dark thought to his daughter, but he made sure she knew that things had been difficult, could get difficult, but he was still there, and he would still be there.
He has learned that sometimes being honest is the easy way out because lies get more complicated over time, require more of your energy to keep up, and eventually just end up suffocating you, and he wanted to at least be honest with his little girl.
When Daisy mentions the person she inspired in the album, he holds his breath. He’s preparing for her to do something spiteful, something that will dynamite his relationship. He thinks Camila might be expecting it as well, because suddenly all her focus is on the TV, and her jaw is clenched and she’s listening to Daisy’s every word.
“What is the most romantic thing someone has ever done for you?” the interviewer asks, and Billy holds his breath. He knows it’s coming, and his heart is beating harder than Warren’s drums ever did.
Knowing what is about to be said doesn’t make it any easier, if anything, it just makes it harder. He’s guilty of too many things – the way his heart is beating so fast he can barely breathe, the fact he is holding her breath waiting to hear her say it, the fact he wants to hear her say it despite having his wife right next to him.
“Someone once told me they believed in God because we met.” The answer is so vague, so open, that he thinks maybe people wouldn’t link it at all to him if he hadn’t messed up. Thinks Daisy was kind enough to be careful about it so it wouldn’t cause him any trouble.
He notices the slight smile on her face and the way she seems to try to push the memories away from her brain as she says it. He can tell by her face she wishes she could. But just like him, she can’t.
***
Her interview is out in the world, and somehow, she expected to feel more exposed to it than she does. She hears and knows the speculation around her album and the interview, but the welcome to the music is so overwhelming that it is all she can think about.
Her album debuts at number one in every important chart, and “All These Months” is such a colossal success she doesn’t think she can hear anything else.
Success is something she has always wished for herself, and even though she wishes she could share it with the band, she’s good on her own as well.
When she receives a phone call asking her if she would be up to play some of the songs at the Carpool Karaoke Release party set on Saturday, she agrees, because she’s excited to perform the songs she has worked hard in and that she loves.
Singing about the man you once loved – that you still love deep down – isn’t magically easier as time passes by, but it is the only way Daisy knows to process emotions. Music helps her rationalize, and even though some days it hurts more than others to sing about him, she’s usually able to handle it.
When Saturday comes, she gets ready for the party. She wears a slim red dress, tight in all the parts that should, with an open back that makes her red hair shine brighter. Her makeup is subtle and her heels are high, and she feels good in those clothes even though she won’t be able to move around as much as she usually does on stage.
When she arrives on the red carpet, she smiles at the paparazzi. She’s gotten better at it over the years, but it’s significantly harder when there’s no one else to support her or make her laugh. Back when she was with The Six they didn’t do many red carpets – the tour was stressful as it was, and they couldn’t drive from one state to another like it was nothing, let alone take a plane without being exhausted— but the few times they did, it was always something to remember.
Warren would make everyone laugh with jokes. Karen would try to pretend she was one of the boys, while Graham looked at her with so much love and admiration while trying to be subtle – he wasn’t. Eddie would be there, trying to catch the paparazzi's attention. And then, there was Billy.
He would pretend he didn’t like it, but deep down he did. And he would always check on her, make sure she was alright, no matter how many times she tried to talk him out of it. He would take her arm and make her move next to him for all the pictures, and he would whisper nice, funny things to make it easier for her.
And she grew to love red carpets because Billy was there holding her openly and the whole world could see his affection for him. It was one of the few places it felt like Billy was choosing her, instead of her choosing him.
When she went solo, she didn’t have that anymore, and she had to adapt to posing for herself. It got better but never easier.
When she goes to the interviewers to answer some questions, it’s just the usual – who designed her dress, how does she feel about her album coming out, whether she will be performing tonight. Until one of them surprises her,
“How do you feel about reuniting with Billy Dunne today? Could we expect a picture? Some kind of interaction?” The questions catch her off guard, and she frowns.
“Will Billy be here?” she asks, in a tiny voice. She turns to the red carpet, subconsciously looking for him.
“Yes. He’s set to appear in the episode that will be released today for ‘Aurora’ third anniversary.”
Her heart beats way too damn fast, and her hands are sweating. Why, of all people, did Billy have to be here the one night she was going to sing about him?
She could ignore him, but it would be pointless. They’re attracted by some ulterior power none of them can resist. Even at a party full of people, she’s sure they will find their way to each other. But she can try. She can try to stay away from him, for her own sake, for her heart’s safety.
Three years should have been more than enough time to move on from him, but moving on was never part of the plan. She learned to live with the pain of losing him but never prepared for the idea of seeing him again.
“That’s good news.” She says, and her voice sounds shaky, and she hates it. “I hope we have time to catch up.”
***
At first, Camila wants to go to the Carpool Karaoke party, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her he doesn’t want her there, not with the possibility of Daisy, not with the fact that what he says is going to be exposed to the world right there.
He isn’t brave enough to tell her, doesn’t know how to expose that after three years he’s still thinking about Daisy.
In the end, when they’re a few hours away from leaving, Julia gets sick. She’s vomiting and has a fever and is overall in very bad shape. Camila, as always, worries way too much.
“We can stay” Billy offers.
“No, you go. You have to celebrate the anniversary and it would look weird if you didn’t attend. I will stay with her.” Camila says, picking their daughter up.
What she means is that the tabloids wouldn’t leave them alone if Billy decided not to go. They’d make up all types of stories about how Billy doesn’t wish to reunite with Daisy, how his wife doesn’t allow him to. There have been a few of those over the past few years, and Camila isn’t quite comfortable with them.
“You sure?” he tries to get reassurance because he needs permission from her, and when Camila nods, he’s just happy she didn’t complain about it because he was going anyways.
***
He hasn’t seen Daisy in the entire night, and he wonders if it’s a mere coincidence or if she’s willingly trying to avoid him. He wouldn’t blame her if the latter were the case, but he’s praying for just a glimpse of her. He wants to see her at least once, even if it’s from a distance.
He doesn’t know many people at this party. Ever since he stepped out of the music industry, he hasn’t really kept a lot of contacts. He produces for some artists, but he’s not really particularly close with them. He’s all about the world and that’s it, and that hasn’t gained him many friends.
He doesn’t care. He’s not looking for friends, he’s looking for Daisy.
“Have you seen Daisy Jones?” he manages the courage to ask one of the few people at the party that has approached him. He’s an indie artist and they have worked together in a track or two.
“Oh, yes I have. She’s breathtaking.” The guy replies, and Billy wants to complain that that’s not the information he asked for. Of course, she’s breathtaking. She has always been. “I think she’s somewhere talking with some producers.”
Billy doesn’t know why he asked because he does nothing with that information. He doesn’t go to find her, he doesn’t even attempt. He’s too worried trying to distract himself from the lingering feeling in his throat and blames it on the thought of alcohol being right around the corner.
He’s not wanted alcohol forever, and he knows that isn’t changing just because he has access to it.
When they call them to sit to watch the Carpool Karaoke unreleased videos, he tenses. He takes his seat and searches for Daisy in the crowd.
He finds her, and this time it doesn’t take much effort. It’s inevitable to look at her, with her red hair and red dress and the way she looks like she was brought out of hell to torture him. He doesn’t think she saw him, doesn’t know if he wanted her to. He just stays there, looking at her for what feels like an eternity.
And when she gets up and goes to the stage, he follows her every move. The way her hands move nervously, and how she takes short steps to show confidence. The way she slightly sighs when she gets to the mic and how she doesn’t open her eyes like she doesn’t want to see any of them.
He sees it all. He has always seen her.
And when she starts singing, doesn’t open her eyes for a single minute, he feels her in his heart. Listening through a stereo it’s not the same as getting the actual live thing, and he hadn’t really stopped to think about it until now, with her vocals flowing raw and honest in the air.
He has missed her, he thinks. Maybe more than he knew. Maybe more than he allowed himself to admit.
***
Singing is easier when she doesn’t allow herself to open her eyes to look at the public. She even gets herself a piano so she can focus on the keys and not on the audience.
She’s not nearly as good as Karen, but she does the work. Her fingers know what to do, and the music takes over. And for a few minutes, she just exists, singing the songs she wrote completely alone feeling the absence of the one man he wished she would never have to walk away from.
When she finishes, she has teary eyes and a weak smile, and she gets a standing ovation for her performance. And she sees him. Of course, she does.
He’s wearing denim, because that’s all he ever wears, and he looks at her like it’s the first time he has ever done it. And she wants him to.
Before she realizes it, she’s smiling. At him. And he smiles right back. And suddenly time stops and they’re the only ones to exist in a room full of people clapping for her.
When she goes back to her seat, she still feels the keys in her fingers and her heart beating like there’s no tomorrow. She tries not to turn, not to look at him. Fights her urge to do exactly that.
And when they announce his interview, she just watches the screen. She knows people are waiting for her reaction, so she just smiles and lets them think she's just supportive of him when in reality she’s so fucking in love with him. Three years later, she still is.
And when he starts talking about her in the interview, her heart does a weird flip, and suddenly she has tears in her eyes and one might have fallen down her face, and she’s hoping no one has seen that.
“I once told someone I believed in God because she existed because we were living the life we were back then. I wasn’t a believer, but something happened, and suddenly God had to exist because she existed and we were… together. We had found each other.”
The words echo the entire room, and she knows there’s no way every soul here hasn’t seen what she has, hasn’t heard what she has, and hasn’t noticed the parallel between their stories.
She doesn’t care. That’s a problem for later. What she cares about it’s him. The way he has said it is like it’s the only thought keeping him alive. The way he has claimed that to be the most romantic thing he has ever said when he has a wife and a kid back home and didn’t leave them for her.
She’s furious, and she’s sad, and she’s emotional, and she doesn’t understand why would Billy do something like this to her. Doesn’t he know, her heart beats for him and has never stopped? Doesn’t he know that walking away from him so he could find his way back to Camila was the hardest thing she ever had to do? Quitting drugs was easy in comparison.
If he knows, why would he do this? Why would he say these things, knowing people would listen, knowing she would listen?
The room starts to feel overwhelming. It all feels like too much. She needs to go away and she does.
Leaves the party, mid-interview, knowing people will have lots of things to say about that. She doesn’t care. She just needs some fresh air, but she can’t get it, because there are paparazzi outside. So she just goes to the hallway, and as she’s getting air in her lungs again, Billy appears through the door.
“Why?” she asks, her voice shaky. “Why would you do something like that?”
“For the same reason as you, I would say.” He sounds calm. He looks calm. Her heart is breaking and her mind is collapsing and he looks fucking calm.
“No.” she says, “Not for the same reason as me. We have never had the same fucking reasons, Billy.”
“How would you know, huh?”
“You can’t come here and tell me that we have the same reasons, Billy. You can’t. You know they’re not the same. You…” she breaks, and her voice cracks and she thinks she’s crying and she fucking hates him for it. “You know what my reason is. And yours has never, ever, been the same.”
There’s silence, for a second there, and all she can hear is his breathing. All she can hear is her own heart beating in a way she didn’t think it could ever beat again. In a way, it can only beat for Billy Dunne.
“After all that happened, you really think we were never feeling the same?” It’s all he says. It’s all he puts out there, in the world. He looks at her like he’s sorry for what he’s saying, but mostly sorry for her. “It was real, Daisy. All of it.”
That’s what ends up breaking her. The confession. The one she didn’t know she wanted, she needed.
And before she realizes it, he is next to her. He’s pressing their foreheads together because that’s what they always do because they need each other’s touch to feel steady and safe. She does, at least.
“I have missed you, Daisy.” He says, soft and low.
“I have missed you too, Billy.”
There’s a question there left unsaid, but she can see it in his eyes, in the way he’s leaning closer so slowly he’s giving her time to walk away if that’s what she wants to, even if it will break them both.
He must think higher of her than she does because she has never had the power to walk away from him. It was already hard enough the first and only time she could actually bring herself to do it.
And when their lips meet, she feels like she’s home again. This is wrong on so many levels, this is the one thing they walked away from. But she feels it’s only fair, to replace the memory from Chicago, the heartache, which something softer, something nicer.
This kiss is not needy. It’s not mere passion and drugs and alcohol and way too clouded minds to think clearly. This is a love kiss. A kiss born from emotion and millions of promises that can’t be made even though they wish they could. This is the type of kiss that can break hearts but can repair them as well.
It’s the type of kiss she can only give to Billy Dunne. And she thinks, in a way, it’s the kind of kiss he can only give to her.
They stop kissing, but they don’t quite separate. She’s feeling his breath in her nose, and she has opened her eyes to memorize every inch of him before she has to say goodbye again.
“Nothing’s going to change when we go back there,” Daisy says, to reassure him. To prevent him from the inevitable guilt that will follow. He's good at guilt, and she knows it all too well. Wants to save him from it just this time around. “No one will ever know.”
“No one will ever know.” He repeats, and he sounds sorry. She is sorry. Maybe they both are, in their own way. “I never thanked you, Daisy. For the sacrifice you made.”
Her heart breaks, and she wishes she could be doing anything but this conversation. But she just nods, and she separates from him until she can no longer feel his fingertips on her chin and the closeness of his body.
She smiles at him, one last time. “I would do it again, Billy. For you, I’d do it all again.” She confesses.
And he is crying, she can see it, but she doesn’t acknowledge it, because she has only seen him cry once before and she’s not about to remember that. Not when she’s about to walk away from him.
“Don’t forget me, Billy Dunne. I still want to see how you look twenty years from now.” She jokes as she walks away.
And her heart breaks a little more, but it’s filled with love, and she would rather get it broken with Billy’s love than not have anything at all.
Seventeen years later, he shows that he hasn’t forgotten her when he knocks on her door. He comes back to her so that they can do it all over again, just better this time around.
Because this time, they make it work for all the times they couldn’t in the past.