White: Flashing lights from Harlow’s getaway car.
Blue: Colton’s corpse, left to rot by his scorned ex-lover.
Chapter 6
With ample time to kill before she needs to get ready for dinner, Naomi opens TikTok, a subconscious habit she seems to be forming. Her “For You” page used to consist of travel, animal, and beauty videos; now, almost every clip is Harlow-related. But she needs this to get more insight into the pop star, to see her through a different lens.
Naomi doesn’t know what she’s looking for, so she follows the algorithm, watching whatever it sends her way. In the first video, a group of young women, probably in their mid-twenties, are huddled together, covering their mouths as they watch a livestream of Harlow’sRed, White, & Blueopening concert. When her hit single “Once Upon a Summer” starts playing and she appears on screen—bedazzling in knee-high red boots and a flowing white dress, a blue guitar in hand—the women lose control. One falls to her knees as two start screaming and hugging, while the fourth stares on in shiny-eyed silence.
Other fan videos are quieter, but still as emotional, with people talking to the camera, simply explaining why they love Harlow and how she has helped them in their lives, from getting over a breakup to overcoming depression or even encouraging them to leave an abusive relationship. Naomi knows some people would roll their eyes at this, thinking Harlow undeserving of such credit. But Naomi has seen first-hand the impact a “silly musical artist” can have on someone.
Her sister was prone to depression, but any time Harlow released a new album or music video, or did anything at all, really, Faye perked up. It provided her with a brief respite from herself, a distraction from her neurotic thoughts when she needed it most. Or for the times when her mind went quiet, filled with “nothing but a sense of doom, like a ticking time bomb,” as she’d say, Harlow’s music helped bring her back, motivating her to get out of bed and keep hustling. And Naomi would always be thankful to the pop star for that. Although, Faye became increasingly obsessed with Harlow only months before she overdosed, which made Naomi wonder if being such a fan wasn’t so great for her sister after all. Just a constant reminder she was still failing to break into the industry.
“My whole life I thought I could do it,” Faye said, months before her twenty-fifth birthday. “‘You’re going to make it,’ I tell myself, over and over. ‘It’s going to happen!’ But as I get older, it starts to feel more and more like I probably won’t. And it’s terrifying. I can’tnotmake it, Nay. I can’t end up like Mom.”
Not long after that conversation, though, Faye had a breakthrough. She’d sold a song to a record label and it seemed like she was finally going to get her chance. And for a few months, it really looked like things were going to work out for her. But then she started acting strangely, became distant and closed-off. And then she was gone.
Maybe that’s why she crashed so hard, Naomi thinks.The higher the climb, the harder the fall.
As Naomi scrolls through more videos, she wonders if Harlow ever felt a similar desperation or if her rise to the top was easy—a swanky elevator ride as opposed to an impossible rocky ascent.
She pauses on a fan edit—a mashup of various songs according to the caption, including “Violent Ends” fromApotheosis, “Winter” fromRed, White, & Blue, and “Violent Ends Part II” fromLegacy—and realizes that even if Harlow did have a smooth journey to fame, no one was immune to heartbreak.
Can we redo our ending, not just for us
My heart breaks knowing the pain that I caused
But it’s too late, it’s over and done
There’s no going back from the monster I’ve become
—-
And you’re there with me, spinning me around
Kissing me under the sparkling sky; time’s frozen, no sound
But now the sky rains ash, it glitters no more
Ever since you walked out the door
—-
You meant the world to me
Now I’m dead to you
What was I thinking, what did I do?
“Yikes,” Naomi mutters, studying the lyrics. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, the words spelled out like this in front of her make Harlow seem like a very troubled, heartbroken woman, veering on obsessive. And obsession can lead to motive…
Naomi swipes her screen, hoping for more lyric analysis, but instead she’s greeted with someone claiming that Harlow is part of the Illuminati, who have now framed her for murder because she refused to do their bidding. And that if she makes a deal with them, she’ll have to continue to kill every three years to retain her place among the elite.
She shakes her head and closes the app, knowing these crazy conspiracy videos aren’t a good use of her time. What she needs, desperately, is some fresh air and coffee to keep her going.
After a quick evening walk, Naomi returns to the apartment with a large black coffee, a chocolate-chunk cookie, and two more hours to spare. As tempting as it is to continue to doom-scroll through social again, Naomi decides she’ll start the right way this time. With verified Harlow sources. And make her own assumptions.
She resumes the “This Is Harlow Hayes” playlist she’s been listening to and brings up the pop star’s official website.
