DaisyJones

"You wrote this song?" Billy replied in between bites of fries, amusement hanging off his every word. He chortled too and stole a glance at her, but somehow already believing what she was saying, realisation crept in. The damned Daisy Jones effect. Her genius and talent weren't lost on him, but she was the same audacious redhead who had ambled into the studio to tell him (in her oversized shirt and that perfect grin, and nothing more, mind you) if *he* knew what Honeycomb was about. If he, Billy f***ing Dunne, and the song *he* wrote about *his life, experiences, and family*, knew. It was his pledge and promise to Camila. So 'course he f***ing knew.

Jumped in on it, Daisy sure did. That the collab became the Six's first hit too was just... a strike to the jaw. The original lyrics stripped. But after that first week and now the car ride with her, drinking in her scent, her energy, like an infectious disease...

Eyebrows c*cked, he'd stopped singing along to the song altogether now... his head turned towards her, meeting her dark cobalt eyes, Billy mused to Daisy. "But really?"

Billy did think Wyatt Stone couldn't have written all that on his own. Daisy Jones taking the reins and changing something, and making it... better. It wasn't a farfetched idea at all. Yeah. She made it better.

"It's my car, shotgun." Billy stated, a hand dropping from the wheel to turn off the racket. Maybe it had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with the actual song more than annoying Daisy. He also wanted his vehicle free from her marks, her everything. In his periphery, because in no way was he trying to end both their days by ensuing another staredown with her in the middle of a busy Californian highway, he sensed that red hair, loud and invasive in its own right, turn toward the leader of the Six.

An offended gasp followed in its tow, and what was worse than a half sober Daisy Jones? Well, one who thought she couldn't have something. Another sigh fell from Billy's lips as the music started up again. He reached over to press pause. And they did this back and forth for.. well knowing her, Daisy would have a different answer.

"Camila and I are fine." He retorted quickly, defensively, Billy shot faster than a gun. "Look Daisy, this is already heading two ways: one, toward an argument. Two: toward an argument that the band just happens to witness end to end. Like f***. So will you put the brakes on for now?"

"Alright, Daisy. But sh*t, I'm warning you not to drag me around this tour. Jules and the twins are watching." The band was back, and Daisy Jones was back... so the smile softening his face wasn't all pompous as Billy made it out in his head to be.