It's Not Love! 18+ (GirlxGirl)

Jonah

Arid hills spotted with cacti and houses of architectural integrity have arisen seemingly out of nowhere. From the passenger seat of the car, I can see the outline of LA in the far off distance grow smaller and smaller the further we drive. We have driven along flat desert plains for about an hour, the air conditioner blaring, my finger numbs and back stiffening from it. The dry land lies like an art exhibition, preserved from our touch by the speed we past it at. And then there are mountains, grand, ragged mountains where the heat reeks even from where I sit, my bones slowly chilling into rigidity.

"This is so fucking stupid," I murmur. 

"Don't be so negative about it," Jonah says, not glancing from the road as he persuades the easing bends. "You're going to be rich in about five hours."

I sigh and press my head against the window. I don't want the money if it means poisoning all my customers... I guess I could call them friends. The comedown off the drug was horrible, I spent the following day with a headache unparalleled to anything I've ever felt. I wanted to drive a knife through my eye to extinguish the pain and then be done with it all. I'd manically spent the high getting my flat back into order, it took what should have been a whole day for two people four hours. Then the next morning I woke up to see everything was upside down or in the wrong place, I needed to start again but the pain from my head was debilitating. Taylor came over, Tony brought her, and they put things in the places they thought fit as I lay on the lounge, face washer over my eyes to block out the light. The whole time Taylor regarded me with a searching expression, I think she wanted to tell me to just get out of the mess I'm in, it's so easy for her to see a path out, she doesn't know they'll kill me before I can resign. 

"Don't do these drugs, Jonah," I warn him quietly.

"What?" He glances from the road to me quickly. 

"They're not mine, it's not good."

"What the fuck, Alex? Why are you selling them then?" His confusion is evident and I shrug it off, he's not someone who needs to know. 

"Just don't."

He doesn't question me any further, a long, annoyed sounding sigh emits from him and silence resumes. Jonah picked me up, without asking really. Whenever there's anything on and we're both invited, he takes it upon himself to chauffeur his friend without a driver's license around. We sit in comfortable silence on those car rides, commenting on things here and there. We don't really need to talk to feel connected, I guess it's a silence that hums with the undercurrent of our friendship. 

"Who's here you're looking forward to seeing?" Jonah asks suggestively. 

I laugh. "As if. Strictly business."

"It's never just business with you."

"Hey!" I swat at his arm. "Shut up!"

Large gates loom in front of us on the road and Jonah slows to a stop beside an intercom. He's been here plenty of times before, he knows the drill, and we're through the gates and climbing a steep hill to a carpark where a valet waits under the diminishing shade of palm tree. When we step out of the car, the heat hits us with sickening force. My skin immediately flares under the brunt, bones that were stiffening in the blasting A/C thaw and the hair prickles on my arms at the sudden relief. I roll my head back to the sky and exhales. It may be a long weekend, but at least there'll be warmth.

Jonah and I are led up rough stone steps by a young man dressed like he's just stepped off a yacht. He's fitter then both of us and as we irritably swipe at the sweat on our brow, trying to keep our bags from slipping off our shoulders, he gushes effortlessly about the stars he's led up this path in a way that convinces me he has no idea who Jonah is. We emerge at the top of the steps onto the corner of a deck that hangs off the side of the mountain supported by metal poles that drill deep into the ground. I lean against the railing and catch my breath, the view of the land below is distorted by the glare from the sun's reflection off the yellow land. I strain my eyes and scan the distance where LA quietly stands, the dark shadow of the city stains the land, it fades from black to grey to yellow. The drop below lands on the road Jonah and I entered on, I follow the road back as far as I can see, there's other filthy rich houses spotted along the surrounding landscape but we're fairly secluded - why do celebrities loathe other people until they need them? 

Breath gathered, I pick my bags back up and turn around to face the house. It's three stories high, polished white and modern. The ground floor is opened onto the deck, glass doors slid back to allow a flow between the umbrella spotted deck and the kitchen. 

"Come on." Jonah nudges me and leads me into the house where an older lady wearing an apron is bent over polishing away crumbs from plates of finger food. The house is instantly cooler, polished marbles floors and crisp white walls, it feels like we've stepped inside a display home for the ideal of what everyone should be aiming for. 

"Ah, excuse me," Jonah interrupts the lady, she looks up, scowling, "where is everyone?" She jerks her head in the directions of a corridor. "Thanks."

Voices echo from down the end of the hallway as we enter it, someone shrieks with laughter, a male voice cutting over it in a slow, steady drawl telling a story. Jonah pauses to open a door off the hallway, I nearly run into the back of him. 

"Put your bag in here," he says, throwing his into the room without so much as checking what it contains. He's familiar with the house, been here heaps of times.

I follow his lead, throwing my overnight bag in after his. "Are we late?" I ask him, pulling my backpack off and opening it up.

"No," he brushes off the insinuation that we're undesirable guests, watching as I shove a couple of bags of the powder into my pockets. "You don't do powder," he points out.

"Yeah, it's not mine," I tell him again irritably then throw the backpack into the room. We close the door and continue down the hallway, Jonah leading the way as I follow in pursuit. 

"You're not in trouble, are you?" he asks fraternally, not glancing behind to look at me.

"No," I lie to his back. 

The hallway opens up into a large room where Matthew McConaughey stands front and centre, drink in hand, and look of glee on his face, he's the voice of the story. He's backlight by huge windows that back onto a sparkling pool, his tall figure commands the room, towering over the elite of Hollywood, it feels as though I've just walked into a cult meeting.

"Well, hello!" Matthew announces, pausing mid story and gesturing - arms out wide on either side of himself - as Jonah and I enter the room. "Jonah Hill and Alex..." he fumbles then continues with tipsy bravado, "no last name because she is our drug dealer!"

The room laughs and I smile, looking around myself to determine what I've walked into. It's full of familiar faces either standing, sitting crosslegged on the floor or perched on seats, drinks in nearly everyone's hands. A couple of girls smile a mixture of shyness and flirtation at me, I smile a teeth-less smile back at them, the past will stay in the past this weekend. I place names to the faces I know and try to work out the ones I don't, and then I see a blonde woman. She sits in the corner of the room beside the window, her eyes flicker to me and then back to their original place. Jodie doesn't smile along with everyone at Matthew's joke, she seems mortified that I'm here.