damn your love, damn your lies

𝙣𝙤 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 . . . [ goeshard ] an independent &&. private billy dunne of daisy jones &&. the six. influences from both the novel &&. mini series. written by kc , she / they / he , twenty - four , &&. cst. triggering content and mature themes present , follow at your own risk. . . . 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢.

𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙮 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣 , 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣. everything i loved about the world , @selfruin loved about the world. everything i struggled with , daisy struggled with. we were two halves. we were the same. 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚.

𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙣 . . . it's lonely at the top , the art of self sabotage , wanting what you can't have , self - hatred , self - torture , finding out who you really are , found family , chasing your dreams , &&. 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 . . .

𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 . . . @selfruin , @aur0ras &&. @dialdruhnk

he knows she's right. knows that for this to work they both have to be faithful, to have faith in each other, to trust one another. but to have that, you have to trust yourself, to have faith in yourself. something billy dunne didn't have. he is sitting there in the dining chair, watching their daughter sleep in her crib.

he doesn't even know what city they are in anymore, he's too far gone for that. and if he is honest with himself, every woman he's had, every smoke filled motel room, it all started to blur together. maybe it was because of how high he was constantly or maybe it was how scared he had become of the commitment that he had found himself in with chrissy--- it's not that he didn't love her, he loved her more than anything but she took care of him. she took care of him when all he knew was taking care of others.

and that's exactly what is happening now, he's heeled over the toilet, from a night of too much drinking, too much drugs, too much of everything. but she's sitting there on the edge of the tub, holding his hair back, rubbing his back. she was taking care of him, like always, as his guts spilled into the toliet.

chrissy's words hit harder than he's sure he intended too, but pale cheek pressed to the porcelain, green eyes flutter shut then back open, giving her a tired smile. ❝ you're so smart, baby--- ❞ words are slurred, smile slowly faltering has he turns back to the bowl. it's a second before he's turning back to her, wiping his mouth before sighing.

billy hates to admit how well he knows that feeling. images of red hair flash through his mind as a sad smile curls up at the edges of his lips, catching the sight of the woman he was thinking about across the room, dancing on a table. hand running through his hair to tuck it behind his ears, watching the people of the party. he hated being here, really-- the booze, the drugs, daisy--- it was all too much temptaion. he was just one slip up from ruining it all, he knows cami couldn't take another failure on his part, he knows one slip up would result in the loss of that stability but he had to be here. he was the front man after all.

❝ yeah--- that's a feeling i know too well, man--- all too well.... all you can do though? is just--- try your best. no matter how hard it is, if you try your best, that's all you can do. ❞

a glance over to the other man, sad smile still present, pulling his gaze from daisy across the room. ❝ but sometimes people have to help themselves----- ❞ a truth billy has yet to accept himself. ❝ before they can accept help from anyone else, yanno? it's sometimes just this endless cycle till something happens to change that. ❞

billy can't hold back the scoff that falls past his lips, eyes rolling slightly in her direction. he's sitting there, guitar across his lap, leaning against it as he flips through her little red journal. ❝ maybe it's not, but it's not all butterflies and rainbows-- or whatever this shit of yours is. music for the sake of music is a thing, you just--- ❞ a sigh as he takes the guitar off, resting it against the book shelf and standing, reaching into the pocket of his denim shirt and taking out his pack of cigarettes. he offers her one, the last two of the pack, before lighting up and taking a long draw-- daisy jones made him want to smoke an entire pack on his own.

feet move him toward the glass door over looking the pool in teddy's back yard, propping against it as he takes in the view of the city. maybe one day he could have something this nice. ❝ i get that you want to write what you want to write but sometimes you have to write what the people want. and it's shit i know but it has to be that way..... ❞

it's utter bullshit, turning back to daisy, brows furrowed. they both know he wants to write about addiction, about the pull, about the life, the sex, the drugs, but he feels stuck, stuck in the role of father, in the role of husband. stuck in being someone he's not sure he was ever meant to be-- a role he is too scared to break out of. billy dune after all, has taken care of people of his life, and isn't sure he knows how to stop and be who he really is. ❝ sometimes the people want songs about loving the people in their lives and not bullshit that they have to dance around to find the literal meaning to. ❞ another lie, billy knows his true talents are being shunted by the mold he has to fill.

anything billy does, he goes hard. he loves hard, he drinks hard, even the way he spends money, it's like it's burning a hole in his pocket.

an independent private and selective writing blog for billy dunne, of the best selling novel and emmy nominated television series. daisy jones & the six. mused by KC, she / they / he, twenty-four, cst. graphic and mature content heavily present, including drug use, addiction, and much more. follow at your own risk. ©