18
18
There’s something liberating about a music festival.
Deep in the crowd of people watching Tame Impala perform, we dance and sway like we’re young, wild, and free, singing along at the top of our lungs until our throats are sore and we can’t even hear ourselves above the noise. We’re just lost in the atmosphere, three bodies among thousands more, music washing over us and letting ourselves go.
I can’t even tell how long we’ve been out here. An hour, maybe two. All I know is after we got here we walked around for a while, bumping into people we knew and others we didn’t, taking photos with fans and getting drinks from backstage and VIP bars, checking out a few of the private hangout spots for “celebs only,” but we all decided eventually that the real party was out here. Well, I guess Val thought otherwise—we haven’t seen her and Tripp since we headed out here to watch the show. She probably found another group of friends in one of the fancy VIP areas. The number of connections she has because of her family’s business is insane.
“I love this song!” I shout, singing along with Maya and Jessie as we bump into people left and right, but it’s no big deal. This is what I’m here for. I love immersing myself in crowds at live shows rather than barely being able to see the show from a side stage view like VIPs do a lot of the time.
Out here I can just be real for a change.
“Do you know who’s playing next?” Maya shouts as the song finishes and Tame Impala walk offstage to a thunderous wave of applause, whistles, and screams.
“Are you kidding me?” I swig back a bottle of water and step into the line of Jessie’s handheld fan. Tripp laughed when she hung it on the lanyard around her neck, but in this heat I’m nothing but grateful for the breeze, even if it does make her look—in the nicest possible way—kind of like a grandma out for a day trip. “I’m pretty sure it’s SZA playing next. I can’t fucking wait.”
“Oh my god, remember that summer when we drove around everywhere in LA blasting ‘Good Days’ almost blowing the speakers out? That’s our song, Princess!” Jessie throws her hands in the air excitedly. “Holy shit, as if we’re finally at Coachella together!”
“Hey! Hey, Princess!”
I whip my head around at the unfamiliar voice butting in from across the crowd. Jessie and Maya’s eyes follow, and as soon as I hear, “No way, she’s with Maya Brown too!” I know immediately what’s about to happen.
We can’t go anywhere without being spotted by fans—not even in a crowd this alive.
“Hey!” I beam as the guy and his girlfriend push through bodies to get to us, alerting other people’s attention as they do. Soon I can hear my and Maya’s names on everyone’s tongues, and I notice the way people elbow their friends to let them know and try to slyly angle their cell phones in our direction for a sneaky photo.
“I can’t believe I’m meeting you right now!” The girlfriend freaks out, reaching for me and fumbling with her phone at the same time. “I actually can’t believe it! It’s really you and my phone has no battery left, oh my god!”
“It’s okay, babe,” her boyfriend says, “I’ll get a photo for you.”
“But I want you to be in it too!” the girlfriend whines.
I glance at Maya, who shrugs with a silly grin. “Here,” I say, opening up my camera, “let me take the photo. I’ll send it to you. You have Instagram, right?”
“Are you serious, would you do that? Really?” The girl’s eyes light up as Maya pulls us all into the frame.
“Of course!” I hold my phone out in front of us, knowing my security will probably want to shut these interactions down if they keep happening.
I genuinely love meeting the people who support me. I know the way I respond to this could either make her day or ruin the entire experience, and I’m not the type to be a bitch.
“You guys are fans?” Maya asks before posing for a photo—and then another when we realize the boyfriend’s eyes are closed in the first.
“Oh, she’s a huge fan,” he tells us proudly. “When we first met, we’d sing along to your music everywhere we went. It’s still on our road trip playlist.”
“And we love your work, too, of course.” The girlfriend compliments Maya, smiling politely at Jessie, eyes focused, as if she’s trying to figure out whether or not her face is familiar too.
“Aww, I love that!” I say to the boyfriend. “We were just saying the same thing about SZA! Love a good road trip playlist,” I enthuse.
“No way!” The girl laughs excitedly. “I guess you’re just like us!”
“What’s your Instagram?” I ask, searching her username when she tells me and sending the photos to her in a DM. Kimi’s voice warning me to keep my fans at arm’s length rings through my head, but she doesn’t understand my connection and love for them.
“Thank you soooo much!” She reaches out for a hug.
“Of course, girl. It was great to meet you!” I hug her back, startling when I step on another person’s foot as I pull away. “Oh fuck! Sorry!”
“It’s just meeeee,” a voice I’d recognize anywhere drawls.
“Val!” all three of us say at once.
“Where the hell did you go?” Maya grabs her arm and drags her into our circle, discreetly guiding us all a little farther out of the crowd now people have caught wind of the fact it’s us. Crowds at Coachella are usually chill about seeing industry people, but still, the last thing we want is to create a tidal wave of attention. We could be trapped in here for hours if that happens. I can already sense people angling themselves, ready to seize their moment and request a photo or ask me to sign their arm.
“Has the show started yet? I can’t believe I missed Tame Impala. I’m so excited to watch SZA, though, aren’t you excited too? Why is everyone staring at us? Princess, did you bring a new friend with you? Is that girl waving at me—ow! Fuck, Maya, you’re pinching my arm! Where are we go—”
“Val.” I hold her shoulders, heart drumming hard as I focus on her expression, the loose set of her jaw and the dark expanse of her ultrawide pupils. “Valerie, look at me.”
“What’s the matter?” She stills when I hold her firmly in place, bringing her face up close to mine to stare right back into my eyes, so close I can taste the alcohol on her breath and see how massive her pupils are. Her pulse feels erratic under her skin, her body hot to the touch and slick.
“Where did you go?” I repeat Maya’s question, trying to block out the distraction of the crowd around us as I say my words slowly and calmly, clearly, talking directly to her.
“I was with Tripp hanging out, I told him how I feel about him, and then I just . . . Shit, it’s really packed here, what’s with all these people? Why’s everyone staring at me, Princess? Why are you holding me so tight? What’s going on?”
“How she feels?” Jessie says.
“Finally,” Maya says. “We’ve been trying to get them to act on their feelings for each other for way too long.”
The stage lights behind us bathe the crowd in violet all of a sudden, the huge speakers around the stage coming alive and vibrating the ground below as the music starts up, ready for the next act. Val’s eyes go even wider—if that’s a possibility—and she spins around on the spot like a startled rabbit, her face sheet white and horrified, as if something terrible is about to happen.
“She’s freaking the fuck out,” Maya mutters to me, while next to us, a few festivalgoers watching us take notice, looking concerned for Val. I’m worried they’re going to come over and try to get involved. I can already see Val’s mouth dropping open like a hatch, feel her trembling with the force of a horror-movie scream.
“We should get her out of here,” Jessie says, the worry on her face mirroring mine as she pushes me to move forward with Val, eyeing the people beside us who’ve now got their cameras pointed our way.
Shit.
Behind us, SZA steps into the spotlight, and the sound as everyone roars their applause is wild. I feel it from my head to my toes, and with Val in this state, screaming out of fear, not excitement, I feel my heart clench.
“Holy shit,” I just about hear Maya saying beside me as she works with me to steer a terrified Val to safety, Jessie following behind us, apologizing to everyone as security parts a way through the crowd for us. “What’s causing this? Did you see where Tripp went?”
“Maybe it’s a panic attack?” I ask as Val continues to scream and thrash around, making it difficult for us to pass by anyone without pissing people off.
“Hey, is she all right?” someone calls to us.
“Don’t worry, dude, she’s good,” Maya replies over her shoulder.
“You guys need a hand?” someone else asks, but I smile politely and battle through with security and the girls.
Val in front of us clutches my arms so tight her acrylic tips pierce my skin, the glitter on her face and in her hair flying like fairy dust around us as she jerks from my grip so fast I can barely catch her in time before she falls.
“Val, relax!” I try to soothe her, reaching out to brush her mussed caramel brown hair out of her face as we help her up again. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, Val, it’s us. It’s Princess and Maya and Jessie. We’re at Coachella, Val, it’s a festival. You’re in the crowd . . . you’re safe . . . you’re okay.”
I keep up the steady stream of reassurance until we’re in the dregs of the crowd, large open spaces between each group of people that eventually thin out entirely as we finally make it past the barrier and over to a secluded area behind some trailers. Val’s no longer screaming but she’s seriously not okay, her face still pasty and skin beaded with sweat.
“I hope we don’t bump into any photographers,” Maya says, shaking her head in disbelief as we slowly ease Val onto the ground, her back against the tire of a trailer and her shoulders slumped forward. Maya gets down on her haunches beside Val and grasps her shoulders. “Babe, what the fuck?”
Val stares straight ahead, completely zoned out. It’s like she doesn’t even see Maya in front of her—or any of us, as I crouch down too and offer her some water.
“Val, drink,” I say, but her head lolls and she doesn’t look up.
“I’ll get a medic,” Jessie says, already starting off to find one.
“Is that a good idea?” I ask quickly, thinking of Val’s parents and her reputation, of how many times we’ve found her like this and been just as scared but always gotten through it. I think of how quickly rumors spread online and how gossip can get out of hand, and how even the slightest hint that someone’s taking drugs can tarnish their career forever.
But then I look at Val, the friend I’ve loved for years, slowly fading away, trapped inside this unfamiliar, downright scary shell of herself, and suddenly no one else’s opinion and no amount of family disappointment feels important enough. Val is all that matters, and right now, I just want to make sure she’s okay.
“Wait, forget I said anything.” I shake my head to clear the racing thoughts. “Yeah, grab a medic, Jessie. Oh, Val.” I collapse on my butt beside her and wrap my arm around her vacant body, hugging her into me. “You gotta talk to us about all this, okay? When you’re feeling better later, you’ve got to tell us. I hate seeing you like this. We can help.”
But as my arms squeeze her tight and Maya runs after Jessie to go and get help, Val just sits and stares, and I know my words are lost. She doesn’t hear because she’s drifting—where to, and why she’s always trying to get there so bad, I don’t even know.