F**k it, I love you. | Lana + Marina

Chapter Sixteen

Marina's Point of View

"Excuse me. Leave immediately," Lana yells at the figure progressing towards us, "This is private property."

"Lana! Lana Del Rey!" The man yells, excitedly. He stops at the edge of our blanket, uncomfortably close. He pulls out a large camera from his bag and begins recording us. I'm highly intimidated, and to make matters worse, the wine is beginning to hit me hard, which isn't helping in the slightest. I lean in closer to Lana, my hand wraps around her arm. She leans forward slightly, blocking me from the sight of the man.

"Lana, who is this with you?" He asks.

"You're trespassing. Get the fuck out," Lana demands.

"Lana, is this your friend? When are you dropping Norman Fucking Rockwell?" 

"The cops are on their way to escort you off the premises. Last chance before I have you arrested," She threats.

"I'm uncomfortable," I shakily whisper to Lana. Without thinking, she turns her head and places a comforting kiss upon my lips. Probably not the best idea in our current situation, as it provokes the man further.

"Lana, is this your girlfriend? Are you romantically involved? Have you been hiding your sexuality from the world?" The combination of his invasive questions and my intense buzz make my head pound. Right on cue, a police car pulls to the gate and an officer enters. The man makes a run for it, and the officer chases him down. My head spins out of control. I take the hefty bottle of wine and inhale it.

The cop eventually catches the man, Lana has him arrested and because the man is here illegally, the footage he captured is also disposed. By now, the sun has fully set and it's dark outside.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Let's get out of here," Lana stands and reaches for my hand and pulls me up. I sway around and begin to collapse. She responds quickly and catches me before I make it to the ground.

"Fuck, you're drunk aren't you?" She asks. I can tell she's not completely sober as well, but she's fully capable of functioning. Unlike myself. 

"Mmm-mm," I sound. 

"Okay, let's get you home. I'm bringing you back to mine." 

Lana gathers our belongings we begin the trek back to her car. The sand beneath my feet causes me to lose my balance. Lana offers her arm out for me to hold onto. 

After what seems to be decades, we make finally arrive back to Lana's car. She puts our stuff in the back as I climb into the passenger seat.

"Can you hold this?" Lana asks, shaking the open bottle of wine, "Geez, I'm surprised how little there is left. How much did you drink, Mar?" She asks, handing it to me. I take it and hold it between my thighs.

"Are you okay to drive, babe?" I question, avoiding her previous one. My eyes glued to the bottle.

"I should be, yes," She confirms, "I'm not as light-weight as you are."

. . .

We make it back to Lana's house. Lana assists me up her staircase, I haven't let the bottle out of my grasp. She guides me into her bedroom, and takes the bottle away from me. I struggle as I snatch it back from her.

"Can you let this go?" She asks, slightly annoyed.

"I waaant more," I hiccup.

Lana helps me undress and lies me down onto her bed. She then walks into her bathroom and I take the bottle and sneak a long drink, finishing off the rest. 

"Lah-nahh," I sing. She re-enters the room wearing her sexy silk night gown. She lies down next to me. I have a sudden urge to start confessing certain things, 

"Wanna know something?"

"Okay?" She replies.

"Remember when you came to my studio session?" I hiccup.

"Yes." 

"When I saw you speaking to Joel, I got extremely jealous."

Her look turns into confusion, 

"Marina, please, you have nothing to worry about," She kisses my forehead. I feel like confessing something bigger now,

"I think-," I slur, "I think I know why I'm not a successful artist," I state. 

"I don't want to hear it," Lana asserts.

"L-let's face it," I mumble, "I'm just not as talented as you. My music is shit and always has been."

"Marina. You know that's not true, please stop." 

"Plus, I can't even show up for meetings on time, I'm lazy, unorganized, I can't meet deadlines," I hiccup again.

"Will you stop, please? I said I don't want to hear this," Lana growls.

"I'm a failure."

"Shut up, Marina!" She shouts. This startles me, and she knows it. "Your mind becomes a shit show when you're drunk," She adds. But she's right, I go slightly mad when I've had too much. Especially with wine. Yet her statement makes me feel emotional.

"I'm sorry," I feel the tears building up in my eyes. I shift to face her, and notice her eyes are already wet with sadness. 

"Why are you crying?" I ask softly. I lean my face centimeters from hers and wipe away her tears with my thumb. 

"Because, Marina. It breaks my heart knowing that you feel this way about yourself," She cries, "Besides, fame accommodates so many ugly, terrible things. I couldn't bare to see you go through it." 

"L-L, like what?" I lean in closer, the tips of our noses touch. 

"You saw what happened at the beach. I took you there because I thought it would be private, and safe. Yet the paparazzi always find their way. They can turn a peaceful situation into a threatening one."

"Isn't it worth it, though? The fame, the fortune, the sold out shows, the millions upon-" Hiccup, "Millions of fans singing along with you while you're on stage?"

"It's a cruel world, Marina. And LA is a cruel city. Just please, always be safe and don't ever let people pressure you into something you don't want to do."

I nod. I'm ready to confess one more thing. 

"Lanaaa?" 

"What?" 

"I really really really like you. A lot," I hum. Her serious face lightens at my confession. 

"I really really really like you too, a lot," She smiles, cheekily. 

"You make me feel safe, I don't know what I'd do without you." She pulls me into her, leaving not one centimeter of distance between us. 

"Lanaaa?" 

"Marinaaa?" She mimics my voice and accent.

"Are we, like, official?" 

"Officially what?" She smirks. 

"Y- you know what I mean. You're so silly." 

"I'd love to call you my girlfriend," She admits. 

"And I'd love to call you mine," I chuckle, "So we are girlfriends." 

"What a gnarly fucking day," She laughs, "We ran all over town, we were stalked on the beach, and now we're lying here in bed, you're drunk as fuck and-"

"You're hot as fuck," I blurt out, not exactly knowing how or why I just said that. Lana laughs again, 

"You're going to regret this in the morning."

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