paleyhailey

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princepaley Notice me @paleyhailey

Sitting in the passenger seat of Idris’s Lambo, Hailey clicks on the handle of one of her fans, @princepaley. The page is full of drawings and photos of her. Some of the photos she doesn’t even recognize. That’s when you know you’re famous.

Greta presses all the way down on the accelerator with her Valentino Garavani Rockstud pump. As Hailey scrolls through her phone, she lights a cigarette, a vice she indulges in only when she’s anxious and the Klonopin isn’t working fast enough and she wants to eat the world and then feel it come out of her, burning like the fiery breath of a dragon.

It’s a blur of billboards and broken dreams through the open windows. Hailey flicks an ash over the side. Greta drives through a red light on Sunset Boulevard. She’s too busy rapping along to the song blasting through the speakers.

The Lambo speeds ahead, weaving through other cars on the road, tires screeching against the pavement.

They go for drinks at Delilah and end up in Beverly Park. When they pull up to the gate, Greta jumps out and gives the guard a lap dance. Hailey makes a Boomerang.

Beverly Park is eerie at night. They drive past all the fake châteaus and giga-mansions hidden behind gates—it feels more haunted than Hollywood Forever Cemetery. And so empty. Greta must feel it too because she’s driving fast; she’s driving like something’s chasing her. She doesn’t slow down as they approach the Strom’s estate.

The Lambo comes crashing through the hedges around Greta’s house, which is next door to Mark Wahlberg’s. They go soaring across the backyard, driving over the garden and setting off the sensor lights. Hailey’s hair is thrashing around her head. She can’t stop laughing.

Greta hits the brakes and the Lambo comes to an abrupt stop, its headlights shining across the pool. Hailey stops laughing when Greta turns and stares at her with Hollywood vampire eyes.

“Get out,” she says.

Hailey knows that look.

“Take the precious!” Greta shoves the bag of coke down Hailey’s bra before Hailey jumps out of the car. “And my Alaïa!” She tosses Hailey the handbag.

The engine revs. Hailey hits Record on her phone just as Greta pushes down on the gas pedal and drives the Lambo straight into the pool.

A huge wave of water ripples over the side. The Lambo sinks to the bottom, the surface bubbling.

Hailey watches the water flood in through the open windows. Greta doesn’t get out. She stays sitting in the driver’s seat. As the Lambo becomes completely submerged, Hailey starts to get anxious. This bitch. Greta doesn’t surface. Another minute passes, and Hailey lowers her phone. It wouldn’t be the first time Greta’s tried to kill herself on camera.

Finally Greta breaks the surface, spitting out a mouthful of water. Hailey’s heart doesn’t exactly start beating again or anything, but she raises her phone.