Chapter Six
Blair
By the time the sun starts melting properly into the ocean, Mina and I have somehow become emotionally codependent.
Not in a healthy way either.
More in a we’d absolutely help each other hide a body after knowing each other for twelve hours kind of way.
Which honestly feels healthier than most of my recent relationships, so.
Progress.
The festival sprawls endlessly around us, swallowing the coastline whole in neon and bass and sweat-slick bodies glittering beneath the dying heat.
Massive stages rise out of the sand like alien gods, LEDs flashing through clouds of smoke while DJs violently rearrange everyone’s serotonin levels one bass drop at a time.
Everything feels alive here.
Too alive.
The drugs humming through my bloodstream turn the whole place soft around the edges, lights smearing together every time I move while the bass settles low inside my chest like a second heartbeat.
The sand vibrates beneath my boots hard enough to feel it in my teeth, warm ocean wind sticking glitter to sweaty skin while fireworks crackle somewhere overhead despite the fact the sun hasn’t fully gone down yet because apparently this festival believes in sensory overload as a personality trait.
The cyanide sitting warm and floaty beneath my skin makes everything feel better and worse at the same time. Sharper somehow. Funnier. Brighter. Like the whole world’s vibrating slightly out of sync and instead of fixing it, my brain just shrugged and went:
Eh. Close enough.
Girls dance on strangers’ shoulders wrapped in rhinestones and fishnets like glitter-covered war criminals. Guys with painted faces stumble through the crowd carrying drinks bigger than their emotional support systems.
It smells like saltwater, sunscreen, weed, and vape smoke fighting for its fucking life in ninety-degree heat.
Basically heaven.
Or hell.
Hard to tell honestly.
Mina drags me through the crowd by the wrist while laughing so hard she nearly trips over her own platforms, dark ponytails whipping behind her dramatically every time she spins around to yell something at me over the music.
“You know what I love about festivals?” Mina shouts over the music while dragging me through the crowd by the wrist.
“The alarming lack of impulse control?”
She laughs. “Okay yes, obviously, but I mean this.” She gestures wildly around us at the chaos swallowing the beach whole.
“Out there, everybody’s stressed or sad or pretending they have their shit together.
Here? You just dance, get drunk, make terrible choices, and let the music chemically rearrange your emotions for a few hours. ”
I glance around automatically.
Bodies grinding beneath flashing lights. Glitter sticking to sweaty skin. Bass vibrating hard enough through the sand to feel it in my teeth while smoke cannons explode over the crowd.
Everything feels loose here.
Weightless.
Like real life got temporarily suspended somewhere outside the festival gates.
Honestly?
I kinda get it.
Mina notices immediately and points at me dramatically. “See? That face right there. You get it.”
“I mean,” I yell back while somebody nearby almost lights their own fishnets on fire, “my answer was still drugs.”
“Well yeah,” she snorts. “That part’s implied.”
I laugh, letting her pull me deeper into the crowd before something occurs to me.
“So are you actually from here?”
Mina makes a face immediately like I’ve personally offended her.
“Oh god no. I’m from Tampa.”
“Florida?” I ask.
“Unfortunately.”
I laugh while we squeeze through a crowd of people dancing beneath hanging neon lanterns.
“My parents still live there,” she continues, taking my hand again before I get swallowed by the crowd. “Big family. Loud family. Older brother, twin brother, parents with extremely aggressive expectations about what my life should look like.”
“Oof.”
“Yeah. Apparently running away to beach raves and surviving exclusively on vodka Red Bulls wasn’t part of their vision board for me.”
“Shocking honestly.”
“I know. Really blindsided everyone.”
I snort while she grins.
“So I left,” she says with a shrug, like it’s that simple. “Came out here trying to get away from all the pressure for a while. Then I met Brynne.”
Something softer slips into her expression at that name.
Not sad exactly.
Just real.
“She introduced me to all this,” Mina says, waving vaguely at the stages and lights and chaos around us. “The raves. The music. The parties. She said if you’re gonna self-destruct, you might as well do it somewhere pretty.”
Jesus.
That sounds exactly like something my sister would say.
And weirdly?
Hearing stories about Brynne from someone who actually knew her feels less painful here somehow. Easier to carry beneath all the noise and lights and chemicals flooding my bloodstream.
Mina bumps her shoulder against mine lightly.
“She loved this shit,” she says. “Said it made her feel free for a few hours.”
The bass drops hard enough to shake the beach beneath us.
I look around at the flashing lights, the screaming crowd, the feeling of everything inside me finally going quiet for once.
And yeah.
I think I understand exactly what Brynne meant.
Somebody shoves a drink into my hand while dancing past and I accept it immediately because apparently my survival instincts officially packed their shit and left sometime after the second pill hit. If I even ever actually had them.
Mina notices immediately.
“Oh my god,” she says, staring at the cup in my hand with genuine concern. “You really do accept random drinks from strangers.”
I take another sip thoughtfully.
It tastes aggressively purple.
No clue what’s in it.
“Okay, in my defense,” I say, “I am profiling people first.”
Her eyes narrow. “That somehow made me more worried.”
“I have standards,” I insist. “If they look like they collect human teeth in their basement, I say no.”
“Wow. Incredible survival instincts, babe.”
“Thank you. I work very hard at making bad decisions selectively.”
Mina laughs loud enough that a couple nearby start laughing too despite having absolutely no clue what we’re talking about.
Very rave behavior from all of us really.
But that’s the weird thing I’ve come to learn about Mina.
Everything with her feels easy immediately.
Like we skipped the awkward getting-to-know-you phase and launched straight into emotionally unwell best friend territory.
Maybe trauma just speeds things up.
Maybe girls like us recognize each other faster.
Because beneath all the glitter, partying and joking around, there’s something else sitting underneath both of us too.
Something sharp and restless.
Like we’re both running from something without fully saying it out loud.
Mina grabs my hand again and drags me deeper into the crowd before I can spiral into anything weird and emotional.
Good.
Thinking feels illegal here.
I finish the rest of the mystery-purple drink in one swallow, make a face when it burns going down, then toss the empty cup somewhere into the chaos while Mina screams “THAT’S THE ENERGY I’M TALKING ABOUT” directly into my ear.
The festival keeps unfolding around us in loud blurry flashes after that.
Bass. Lights. Sweat. Smoke.
We bounce between stages until my legs start aching in my platform boots, hiding under shaded tents every now and then to cool off while strangers compliment our outfits like we’re famous instead of just aggressively unstable.
At one point Mina climbs onto this massive glowing LED platform near the main stage, pink lights flashing beneath her boots while smoke cannons blast over the crowd.
And immediately almost eats absolute shit.
“Jesus Christ,” I yell, grabbing her arm before she tumbles directly into a group of shirtless guys below us. “You move like a baby giraffe on ketamine.”
“I’m dancing!”
“Bitch, that's not dancing, that's falling, creatively!”
She laughs so hard she almost loses balance again, and somehow after that, the night just… dissolves.
The music gets louder, and the lights get softer.
Everything starts blurring together in warm flashes of neon and bass and sweat-slick bodies moving in sync beneath the exploding lights overhead.
Mina disappears somewhere into the crowd with two girls dressed like cyber fairies and a guy wearing furry leg warmers, yelling something about finding tacos before vanishing completely into the chaos.
Which honestly feels very on brand for this place.
I stay in the middle of the chaos, letting the music swallow me whole.
The cyanide humming through my bloodstream turns everything floaty around the edges while the bass pounds hard enough through my chest to feel like a second heartbeat.
Bodies move against mine from every direction, strangers grinding close in the packed crowd while smoke and heat curl thick through the air.
And thankfully, my brain finally goes quiet.
Just music, movement, and heat.
My eyes close while I melt into the rhythm completely, hips rolling slow against whoever’s behind me now while hands slide onto my waist through the foam beginning to spill across the sand covered dance floor.
Soft cheers erupt through the crowd when the cannons overhead finally blast.
White foam explodes across the stage instantly.
People scream and laugh, jumping into it like little kids.
The beach disappears beneath thick waves of bubbles climbing higher and higher while lights flash neon pink and electric blue through the haze.
I laugh breathlessly and keep dancing anyway, while hands tighten against my waist again.
Big hands land on my waist through the foam, steady and possessive enough to make heat coil low in my stomach instantly.
My eyes close for half a second while I melt back against whoever it is, bass shaking violently through the dance floor beneath us while bodies grind and slip around us in flashing neon chaos.
And oh.
There it is.
That feeling.
That dark little pulse low in my stomach that says found you.