Page 42 of When I Picture You
“Lo, you wereamazing!” Renee said. “Guys, wasn’t I literally just saying how amazing she was tonight?”
“You’ve got a new number one fan,” Lola’s bassist said before taking a swig of his beer. “We’re sticking around. Some of the other acts are chilling till loadout’s done.”
“Are we invited?” Renee said, linking her arm with Lola’s.
“For sure,” he said. “Lola doesn’t usually hang, but you can definitely join.”
Renee shot Lola a look of mock outrage. “Lola doesn’t usually hang?”
“I just played a show, and I stink, and—”
“I was under the impression that everyone at this hangout just played a show. And you don’t stink. Actually, you smell weirdly good.”
“Renee!” Lola said, which only encouraged her. Renee twisted so they were facing each other, then took Lola by the shoulders and shook her. Lola couldn’t help but giggle.
“Come on, Lo. You just played amassiveshow, and you workedsohard, and you werestupidlygood, so now you get to relax and celebrate! Come for fifteen minutes. If you’re not having fun, we’ll leave.”
Lola glanced at Henry. “He has to stay as long as I do, and he’s probably tired.”
“Me, I’m a night owl,” Henry said. “Go have a little fun.”
“Please?” Renee squeezed Lola tighter. “I’ve never been to a music festival after-party, and I don’t want to go without you.”
Lola’s reluctance was no match for Renee’s shining, eager gaze. “I can’t say no to that.”
What she meant wasI can’t say no to you.
THE FESTIVAL ORGANIZERShad set up an area for the artists, and two dozen people were gathered there now. Under trees strung with cafe lights, there was a fire pit ringed with Adirondack chairs where some lounged, picnic tables where others were eating a late dinner, even a hammock. Lola took quick stock of the faces present, trying to figure out whom she should meet, which people her attention would mean something to. She tried to put her smile on as they got closer, but it felt too heavy to stick. A few feet away, Lola stopped.
“You good?” Renee asked.
“I’m not sure I have the energy for this. For you, this is a party, but for me, I have to make sure I’m being friendly and saying the right things—it’s exhausting.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that people don’t just like you because you’re nice?” Renee said. “You have, like, a really good personality.”
“I do?”
“Yes. So just relax. I will get you a drink if that’s what you need to get properly lubricated.”
“Do you have to say things like that?” Lola said, blushing.
“Clearly I do,” Renee said, noticing her cheeks. “Look, you don’t even have to talk to anyone. You can just hang out with me. It’s up to you. Okay?”
“Okay,” Lola conceded.
TOLOLA’S SURPRISE, she did have fun, and not just with Renee, but with everyone. She tried not to apologize too much for missingeveryone’s sets and let herself float along the fringes of conversations with no pressure to participate. Renee took care of the socializing, so Lola didn’t have to. Renee chatted easily with everyone, telling them how she and Lola were childhood friends, and asking about everyone’s favorite films about the music industry. It was easy—nice—feeling like she and Renee were a pair.
Eventually Lola contented herself with sitting on the edge of a wide, flat hammock, sipping her second hard seltzer, and lazily taking in the scene around her. Her eyes kept wandering to the most buzzed-about act, an edgy Korean girl with a long black ponytail, who performed as Saint Satin. Her name was Chloe, and she was just twenty-one years old. Earlier, she’d approached Lola—a bit starry-eyed but playing it cool—and confessed thatSeventeen Candleshad inspired her to start writing songs as a twelve-year-old.
Now, Chloe was chasing a gorgeous young woman through the party. She had plastic butterfly clips hidden through her short afro and pink glitter on her round cheeks and she wasn’t very hard to catch. Chloe trapped her in her arms, and Butterfly Clips pressed her laughing mouth to the underside of Chloe’s jaw. As Lola watched, Chloe raised her vape pen to Butterfly Clips’s lips. Pinned happily against Chloe’s chest, she took a hit, then slowly exhaled it into Chloe’s mouth, before the pair broke apart giggling amid pale tendrils of smoke.
It was a little exhausting, but Lola couldn’t stop watching Chloe. She floated among the picnic tables, swigging a beer, careening into the arms of her friends then belting out a random song line, and every so often, finding Butterfly Clips for an instant of reassuring affection. It sent a strange ache through Lola’s chest. Chloe looked radiantly young—younger than Lola had ever been. When she was Chloe’s age, she’d already released her second album.
Renee walked up and handed Lola a fresh seltzer. Her eyes followed the line of Lola’s gaze. “Someone’s having a great time.”
“Her first album comes out in a few weeks. This is probably the biggest show she’s ever played.”
“That’swhy she’s so happy.” Renee settled into the hammock beside Lola, setting it swinging wildly. “I thought it was the weed.”
