ONNAXOFF

Chapter 46

Abel

Coachella is by far the best place to people-watch. The festival goers all seem to be trying to outdo each other's crazy outfits. From girls dressed as inanimate objects to guys wearing American flag bikinis, people are not only free to express themselves in whatever the fuck they want, but guaranteed to see someone in an even more bizarre get-up.
After her set, Lana and I escape the crowded VIP tent to the secluded artists' area. From our seats, we can still see the guests, but hardly anyone looks through the partition to see us.
The temporary Lana Del Rey sign hangs lopsided on the trailer behind us as we relax in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional observation.
A short, stocky man walks past wearing a fedora and a full three-piece suit, holding up a metaphorical middle finger to the blistering desert heat.
Lana spots him seconds after I do.
"Jesus Christ, I'm roasting just looking at that guy. Dude looks like Tommy DeVito outta Goodfellas."
"Shit, I bet if we laughed too loud, he'd turn around like 'How am I funny? What the fuck is so funny about me?'" I quote the permanently suited and booted character.
My attention is then drawn to a girl with a flower crown in her frizzy hair, fancy jewellery around her neck and glasses with perfectly circular lenses on her pretty face.
"That chick's totally channelling the love child of Audrey Hepburn and Janis Joplin. On weed."
"Yes. Wow, exactly." Lana agrees enthusiastically, and her eyes resume their search.
"See that woman over there?" She discreetly gestures to a middle-aged woman in a flowered shirt, sticking out like a sore thumb on the edge of the crowd, nervously fiddling with the cross hanging from her necklace.
"Yeah?"
"Her daughter told her she was coming up here with her girlfriends. One last chance for them to hang out before they all separate for college. Mother Dearest didn't trust her, so she tagged along to chaperone. But right now, while she's distracted by the groovy band onstage, her daughter is in a tent somewhere with her boyfriend, who of course came in a different car, sneaking him a handjob."

I laugh until my ribs hurt. Creating fictional back stories for strangers is usually my forte, but Lana's the queen of fine detail.
"How do you come up with this shit?"
"It's a gift." She winks, before opening up a new pack of Camels.
She holds one out, and I take it with my mouth. The lighter she uses has her face and some lyrics on it, one of the fan gifts she received while onstage. She leans in to expertly light both the cigarettes at the same time.

"So, last time I spoke to you, there was a girl in the background who you swore was your real life girlfriend." She turns in her seat so she's facing me. "Now, either you made her up just to fuck with me, or she's here somewhere and you just don't want me to meet her. Understandable, considering the sheer amount of dirt I have on you."

I exhale a long plume of smoke.

"No, we broke up."

"Fuck." Her face turns serious. "I'm sorry. How you holding up?"

"I'm fine."

"Come on, this is me you're talking to."

"Really, I'm fine."
"Okay, then you must have another really good reason for not replying to any of the memes I sent you for few weeks. I thought it was because you were busy, but now that I think about it, I didn't even get that goddamn laughing-crying emoji you love so much. And I was sending you gold." She accusingly points her cigarette in my direction.
"Would you believe me if I said I lost my phone for a month?" I try.
"If you lost your phone, I can guarantee that you'd have a replacement within 25 minutes." She answers accurately.

"It's been about two months since the breakup." I shrug. "It was hard at first, but I'm alright now. Just keeping my mind off it, you know? I've been working a lot. Writing and recording."

"Yeah. You're lucky you have work to keep you busy." She nods. "I won't ask about the details. But whatever happened, you're better off without her."
"It doesn't feel that way." I exhale.
"I know. But think about it. Were you closer to your friends because of her? Did you make better music? Were you healthier, richer, smarter? Probably not. Maybe she made you a little happier, but not in some magical way that you can't get again. Trust me, you're better off without her." She repeats.