Chapter Nine

"Hollywood is high." Violent Femmes

“This is so ‘Almost Famous’!” Viv exclaimed.
“That does not give you license to OD on Quaaludes, Viv.” Marie responded.
We had just pulled up to the Hollywood Roosevelt in the tour van, a fifteen seat monstrosity that felt, and smelled, a lot smaller. I hopped out and stretched as Jason awkwardly handed the valet the keys. They looked at our van like it was a Mack truck.
“That’s my whip, and these are my bitches.” Jason slung an arm around Marie, and swaggered, “Straight pimpin’, playa!” Marie rolled her eyes at me. This is why they were so on and off: she was a sarcastic bitch, and he was a goofball nutcase. Luckily, they both had raging hormones.
Colin opened the door to our suite with a flourish. The west coast distributor of their album had sprung for the room, and apparently, spared no expense. As Viv jumped on the massive bed, Dave and Colin popped the champagne. Andrew grabbed me, and shook me by the shoulders.
“I think we’ve made it!” He was grinning. Again, I felt like this was an out of body experience. What the hell was I doing here? I thought back on that night four months prior when James nearly forced us to see them, and it felt like years. This wasn’t my success, and although I was happy for Andrew, I felt the anxiety well up inside me. I had been skating on thin ice anyway, and I had now fallen through into the dark abyss. I felt like an imposter here, cheap against the three hundred thread count sheets, and gleaming marble counters. This was what his life was going to be like now, so what the fuck did he need me for? I tried to swallow my doubt with a mouthful of champagne.
Hollywood was the physical opposite of Boston. Boston is crowded, a pedestrian city full of people going to and from work. Hollywood exists in a vacuum. It’s surreal, with landmarks you know from the movies next to hookers and bums. It’s like a psychotic playground, existing solely for tourists, club kids, and drug dealers. The excitement was not only ours that night. There’s a west coast mentality where it’s ok to be just damn happy. We forgot ourselves in Hollywood, we weren’t jaded. Even Marie got into it, laughing easily and jumping on the bed. We all got ready for the show, which was sold out at the El Rey Theater on Wilshire Boulevard. The boys were all nervous to be playing to a crowd not mostly comprised of their friends. Colin and Jason were blowing lines with us girls, and Andrew was downing beer after beer. On the ride over Dave kept stopping short at lights, unfamiliar with the roads and strung out on nerves. Viv and I smoked cigarettes while the band unloaded their shit, feeling so goddamn cool to all the gawking kids that walked by. High on coke and Hollywood, I had no more negative thoughts about my worth. I was a goddamn rockstar’s girl. I was wearing a short, mod mini-dress topped with my newly bleached hair. Viv had on black thigh highs and a new pair of designer heels with smudgy bedroom eyes. And Marie had gone a little edgier than usual with her hair down and wavy with peacock feather earrings, and a cropped vintage vest. We felt the need to exaggerate, because we were worried what stood out at home would be average here, and we were right.
After the second encore, Andrew ran off the stage and lifted me in the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he kissed me hard. The band’s manager announced he was taking us out to celebrate. I would have celebrated in the streets that night. My nerves were, for once, anticipation.
In the Land of Hollywood Hipsters, knowing the next big thing is always important. The Wake had been featured in a bunch of music magazines and blogs, so when their manager mentioned their name at this underground bar in Hollywood that looked like a speakeasy, the promoters actually knew who they were. We all sat on velvet settees and drank from a comp’ed bottle. I could feel Andrew tense next to me, but as people came up and complimented their performance, or their album, he relaxed. Viv whispered to me.
“Let’s go dance,” her eyes were sparkling, “show these L.A kids how it’s done.”
We danced near the table, pulling Colin up and making him dance his awkward, geeky moves. It didn’t even matter. We were with the most desirable boys in the room, and I could feel girls looking at us, wondering who we were. We were random college girls from Boston, but to these people, we were crazy groupies who partied hard. I turned around, and saw Andrew talking to a girl I recognized as a model and internet celebrity. I swallowed hard, and tried to look away. She was flirting, and was everything I was terrified of. I pulled Marie into the bathroom with me.
“I mean, I talk to guys, right? They’re not models, but still. Oh god. This is exactly what I knew would happen!”
“What happened to ‘just for fun’? Janey, I told you I wasn’t going to hold your hand when he hurt you. But think about it. They invited us. if he wanted to cheat he wouldn’t brought his girlfriend. But this is the last time I play Dr. Marie when you get freaked out. You bring this on yourself by caring too much!” She turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving me shocked. I felt abandoned, and I felt tears welling up. Some girls in the bathroom looked at me with pity, which made me more upset. I walked out trying to get a hold of myself. I nearly bumped into Andrew.
“Jane! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I am so glad you’re here the share this with me, babe.”
I looked in his eyes, but I couldn’t help but think he didn’t mean it entirely. I knew I was being delusional, but I couldn’t help it. The black mess inside of me was starting to choke me again, so I drank another drink and tried to quiet the voices in my head.