echoes festival

When I was little, my mom told me to never, ever get into cars with strangers. In August of 2024, I ignored her advice, squeezed into the backseat of a car behind two 30-year old men I had never met, and drove up to the middle of the Sierra Nevada Mountains to bartend a three-day music festival called Echoes. The festival was set at a small hot spring resort with a group of people I didn’t know at a location I had never been before. I had no cell service, no bartending experience, and no idea what to expect. And it was unforgettable.

I met Kevin, the guy who hired me, the week before the festival. I was working the door for a party downtown, and Kevin was running the bar. When we met, we immediately hit it off. Kevin’s face reminded me of a maraschino cherry — round, bright, and bursting with sass. When he told me he was running the bar for a new music festival next weekend, I felt a jolt of excitement because 1. I love festivals, duh… and 2. I had recently quit my toxic desk job and was looking everywhere for work.
“Well, if you need more bartenders this weekend, let me know. I think I’m free,” I say, trying to keep my cool.

Did I have any bartending experience? No. But what I did have was a vibrant, sparkling personality and an overflowing passion for music festivals — it’s literally where all my money goes (help). Kevin didn’t care about my lack of experience.
“I could teach you how to bartend this event blindfolded. That’s not a problem,” he assured me. “I’ll let you know if we need more people.”

Two days before the festival, Kevin called and asked me to work. Apparently, a bunch of his staff bailed because they didn’t think they’d make any money working the festival. I didn’t care. I wasn’t doing it for the money.

Kevin told me I could catch a ride up with two of the other bartenders, and we’d all stay in a cabin together for three days at a campground next to the Kern River. As Kevin told me the plan and his offer became more real, my mind swirled with thoughts.

Is this safe? I just met this dude. What if he’s crazy? What if his friends are weird? What if they hate me? What if I hate them? What if this whole festival is a front for a salacious doomsday cult and I’m willingly handing myself over to be kidnapped?

Cut to me in the backseat of the car behind Lucas and Noah, two dudes who were also bartending. It was Friday afternoon. Noah was driving. His car speakers were blasting experimental tech-house. We drove out of LA up through Bakersfield where I waved at the grazing cows and peppered the boys with introductory questions. My spirit for adventure was feasting. 

Noah and Lucas bantered in the front seats. I quietly observed the back of their heads. They knew each other already. It was obvious. Noah had dark features and tattoos. He almost gave the impression of a bad boy if it weren’t for the baseball cap that read ‘OY VEY’ on his head. Lucas was tall with long blonde hair tied up in a messy bun which took everything I had not to paw at like a cat. I asked them both how long they had been bartending for Kevin. Noah answered first.
“I’m not a bartender. I’m a super talented music producer and DJ. Not to mention handsome and extremely humble.” Noah and Lucas giggle as Noah turns up the song playing on the stereo.
“Is this your song?” I asked. “Yeah this is me.” He said, throwing up his shades and hitting his vape. 

Lucas answered next. He was soft-spoken and mellow compared to Jake. He drafted an invoice on his phone as he spoke to me.
“I’ve been working with Kevin for like six years. But I’m also a music producer. I do a bunch of stuff.” Hmm. Vague. I sensed that he was used to working events like these and my eagerness annoyed him. After some prying, I found out that Lucas was in a band, he taught himself to play the keyboard, drums, and guitar, he’s an audio engineer, and he works on a media team for music festivals. 

Damn. I was impressed with both of them. For a moment, I felt insecure about what I would say if they asked me about my own pursuits. I don’t play any instruments. I don’t produce music. I was trying to figure out what it really was I wanted to do. But they never found out what I did or didn’t do because they never asked. After the first hour, I stopped trying to probe the conversation. I put my Airpods in, leaned my head against the window, and prayed that agreeing to work this gig wasn’t a mistake.

On the fourth hour of the drive, the road turned narrow and windy as we entered the Sierra Nevada Forest. I poked my head out of the window, breathing in the crisp mountain air as I gazed up at the carved out mountain sides towering over us. We veered off the main road onto a skinny road leading down a hill toward the river. A pretty blonde girl greeted us and gave us our staff wristbands. Concrete turned to dirt as we slowly bumped and bounced our way down to the center of camp where the road split. One path led down to tent camping and another led up to the cabins where we were staying. The air was dusty. Surrounding us were towering oak trees that saved us from the hot summer sun. Festival attendees walked the grounds wearing patterned swimsuits and colorful scarves.

As we pulled up to our cabin, Kevin waited for us out front. “Where’s the rookie?!” Kevin came charging toward me as I got out of the car. He spun me around and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m SO glad you’re here. Come check out the cabin. It’s SO sick. I feel like I’m at sleepaway camp with all my friends.” I followed him into the cabin. Inside were six bunk beds. Two of the bottom bunks were taken.
“You’re tall, so I figured you’d want more legroom so I pushed the beds together.” He pointed at two adjacent top bunks pushed together to create one long, skinny bed. I set my stuff down and climbed into my mega-bunk as Noah and Lucas settled in. Kevin’s right. This feels like summer camp with strangers. I felt my inner child and I starting to reconnect. “Nat, come check out the kitchen. We have a FRIDGE, dude. It’s SO sick.”

As I climbed down from my bunk, the cabin door opened and one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen walked through. She had short brown hair with a stylish gray streak running through it and a smile that made you feel like you were being swaddled in your mother’s arms by a fire on a snowy winter night.
“Hi, love. I’m Ava.” Ava was also bartending. She gave me a hug, and for a moment, all my problems went away. “I was so happy when Kevin said he found another girl to work with us.” She laughed as we exchanged a look of mutual understanding.
“I’m excited to be here.” I beam at her.

After an hour of settling in, Kevin drove us all down to the inventory truck in a golf cart, and we started unloading heavy boxes of booze, mixers, and other bartender accouterments to take down to the mainstage bar. Kevin kept checking in with me.
“Nat, you good? You sure you can carry that? If you need anything, let me know, okay?”
“I’m good, Kevin. This ain’t my first rodeo.” I pat him on the back.
I could tell Kevin was going out of his way to make sure I felt comfortable and didn’t hurt myself, which I appreciated. But when he asked me for the 10th time if I was okay, I pulled him aside.
“Kevin, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I do yoga. I lift weights. I can handle it. Just treat me like I’ve worked with you for years.” Kevin looks me up and down.
“Alright, bitch, you’re hired.”

Lucas and Ava walked back up to the cabin to chill as Kevin drove me, Noah, and the inventory down to the mainstage bar to set up for the evening. Kevin helped us unload and taught us how to make the cocktails before going back up to the cabin. Noah and I would work the opening shift and the rest of them would come help later. 

The cocktails we offered were: a watermelon mezcal margarita, a tequila pina colada, and a yerba mate mule. Kevin was right. The drinks were super easy to make, and everything else we served came out of a can. 

Noah and I chatted as we set up, and he started to open up a bit. His demeanor was more grounded when it was just the two of us. He told me about how he got hooked on music production in high school and almost didn’t graduate because he would skip class to spend time in the studio.
“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a rockstar. Like full electric guitar and shit. Then I discovered house music. I’ve toured all over the world, and it’s been great. But I don't know. We’ll see how far I can take the DJ thing. I’m so much more of a studio guy.”

Around 5pm, the first DJ, Zalapa, began to play, and people trickled down for sunset. The mainstage was set up on a big grassy field next to the Kern River. Two swings looked out over the water. A giant oak tree with two large circular lights perched up in its leaves served as a backdrop for the DJ booth. The sun was low in the sky, its golden light reflecting off the water and onto the grassy mountain opposite our side of the river. It was peaceful. Idyllic. I took a moment to step away from the bar and walk to the edge of the river. I felt transported. Experiences like these snap me out of autopilot and force me to look around and revel in the good. It was trippy to think how two days ago, I had no idea I’d be here.

I walked back to the bar.
“The river looks so pretty–”
“Open your mouth.” Noah interrupted me and held up a bottle of mezcal, smirking mischievously. I tilted my head back, and he poured a shot into my mouth. I coughed. The mezcal was hot from sitting in the truck and burned like liquid fire. He poured some into his own mouth and winced.
“God, that’s gross.”

“I saw that!” Kevin pulled up in the golf cart behind the bar. “I saw you take a shot, Noah!” Kevin storms over to us and puts his hands on his hips. “How DARE you start drinking without me?!” Kevin pulls a bottle of tequila from the bar, sticks out his tongue, and shakes his head out as he pours it into his mouth. We all bursted out laughing.

The lineup for Friday included artists Monoclick, Laura Peck, ALKMST, Pablodiscobar, Adam Collins, and Makism. By 7pm, an audience had formed. Lucas, and Ava came down and joined Kevin, Noah and I at the bar. The bar started slow, so the five of us working felt like hanging out. I felt at home. Like I had known these people for years. After spending some time with me and seeing my strong work ethic, they all expressed how happy they were that I had joined them. They circled around me into a big group hug and solidified my official status as their friend.

As the hours passed and the bar got busier, I started to get a feel for the flow of service. I noticed after a while my focus became less about serving drinks and more about connecting with people through the bar. It was a new sense of purpose. Someone told me once that a bartender’s second most important job was to make the customer a drink, but their most important job was to be the customer’s best friend. Kevin was really good at this when he was at the bar, which I noticed wasn’t that often. For most of that night, he was off chatting, sitting, hanging with different groups of people. Or he would be gone with the golf cart for an hour at a time. That's when Lucas would take over being in charge. There seemed to be an unspoken normalcy to how Kevin operated, so I didn’t ask questions. 

Around 3am, Kevin cut Ava and Noah and they went back to the cabin. Kevin, Lucas, and I were the last three working the bar until Kevin disappeared again. Around 4:30am, we closed down the bar. The music was still going, but most of the audience had trickled out. Lucas and I were tired and barely spoke as we closed, yet the silence felt oddly comfortable. When we did talk, it was easy. We had a similar sense of humor, and joking around took no effort at all. I felt drawn to him. Something about being around him made me feel safe. I couldn’t figure out why.

Lucas and I were quiet as we walked back to the cabin, listening to the surrounding chirps of the frogs and crickets. The dirt path was lit up only by the moonlight. As we reached the top of the hill, we stopped walking and looked up. Stars. It had been months since I’d seen stars.

Saturday

I woke up splayed out on my stomach. My mouth was the Sahara. I hadn’t slept much. 

I climbed down from the bunk, and shuffled into the kitchen to find Ava already up and making coffee. I grabbed my music festival breakfast of champions: a peanut butter GoMacro bar, and we sat outside on the deck.. I tilted my head back looking up at the surrounding pine trees and let the sun’s rays refuel me. The air was dry and thin. I took a deep inhale and held it at the top, trying to match the stillness of the treetops. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so fully immersed in nature.

It was only 10am, but I could tell that it was going to be a scorcher of a day. Thank god there was a pool. Two pools actually. One pool was cold and the other pool’s water was sourced from a natural hot spring. That’s where we would be bartending during the day.

At 11am, Noah, Ava, Lucas, and I set up the pool bar while Kevin slept. It was baking hot. At least 95 degrees. We took turns jumping in the empty pool before the music started. The pool deck sat up on a hill overlooking the river and treetops. The thermal hot spring pool stretched out in the sun. Lounge chairs and outdoor furniture lined the edge of the deck and were soon occupied by tanned bikini bodies and bearded men wearing oval-shaped rainbow glasses. The music began and more dancing ensued. Saturday’s daytime lineup included Boora, Pirumov, Maddy Maia, Stacy Christine, Club Tularosa. This was the first time I saw the festival crowd in the daylight, and everyone was gorgeous. The joy was palpable. This was Echoes Festival’s first year, so people who bought tickets did so without a reference point. It seemed their investment was paying off. 

Once the bar was set up, Lucas went back up to the cabin to nap. He told me since I closed, I could come back and rest too, but I decided to stay with Noah and Ava. If I was going to nap, I’d rather sleep in the sun by the pool than in the stuffy cabin. The bar was still slow, so I took the opportunity once again to dip in the pool. The temperature of the water was at least 85 degrees, but somehow it was still refreshing. I jumped in, then laid down on the hot deck, feeling like an egg frying on a desert rock. A man came and sat next to me.

“Hey, I’m Daniel. What’s your name?” I sat up and saw Daniel, a sexy, tan, slightly older guy with salt and pepper hair. He extended his hand. I shook it and introduced myself. The next thing I knew, Daniel was sharing his life story. He was born in Hawaii but was now based in Seattle. He studied computer engineering and worked a cushy job where he got paid a bunch of money to basically sit at home and do nothing. Then, he got bored with that job, cashed out on a few investments, and now he spends his time shooting erotic nature photography with women he finds on Instagram.
“It’s difficult because I’m drawn to models who are more on the plastic side, at least when I see them in a photo. But when I work with them in person, they really turn me off. It’s confusing. So I’m trying to redirect my focus on working with realistic-looking women.”
“‘Realistic’ meaning not plastic?” I ask.
“Yeah. Someone natural. No work done. Someone like you.” He looked me dead in the eye. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. I politely excused myself and told Daniel I was needed at the bar.

When I got back to the bar, a woman with long brown dreadlocks and a sequin bikini came up to me and ordered a watermelon margarita. I started making her drink when Ava came up behind me and whispered in my ear.
“We’re not serving alcohol,” she said.
“What?” I looked at her, confused. She motioned for me to step away from the line forming on the other side of the bar.
“The cops are here. They already shut down the food vendors. If they catch us selling alcohol, we could get in trouble. It’s all in there.” She pointed to the cabinets under the bar sink.
“Why?” I asked. Ava shrugged.
“I don’t know. It’s not my party. It’s also not my problem. We were just told to shut down for now.”
I turned back to the woman with dreadlocks and smiled.
“So sorry, but right now, all I can offer you is coconut water, juice, or water.”

I learned that the reason the cops came in the first place was because they received a complaint about a man at the festival entrance who was banging on people’s cars and screaming hysterically.
“I’LL SUMMON THE GODS OF FIRE TO SMITE YOU ALL AND BURN THIS FESTIVAL TO THE GROUND!”

Nobody was sure what set this guy off, but I think it’s fair to assume he was on some kind of substance when this tantrum commenced. While we waited to hear we were in the clear, Ava, Noah, and I danced behind the bar, sneaking shots, handing out waters, and declining drink orders for what felt like hours. Eventually, Lucas came back to the bar with Kevin, and we filled them in on what was going on. Kevin responded by kicking his feet up in a lawn chair to chat with some friends, and Lucas lit a joint.

By then, it was 3pm, and I had barely eaten. My lack of sleep was outrunning my adrenaline, so I decided to head back to the cabin for a salad and a snooze. Sitting alone in the cabin after so many hours of constant stimulation felt strange. The silence was almost louder than the music.

I woke up from my nap around 6pm and put on my favorite festival outfit I got on Etsy. My close friends call it my prosciutto. It’s a tie-dye red and tan bodysuit with parallel slits running down the sides of my waist and legs. I paired my prosciutto with my favorite orange and blue shawl, a pair of pink rave shades, and two gems on either side of my eyes. Saturday is always the best day of a festival, so I wanted to show up right for the night.

Around 7:30pm, I walked back to the mainstage bar where the evening music was about to start.
“Whoahh Nice outfit!”
“Damn, girl!”
“Give us a spin!”
I spun around in front of the bar and flung myself into a cartwheel on the grass for good measure. The group applauded, and Kevin poured everyone except Ava (who didn’t drink) a shot to send off night two. The first evening DJ, Mr. Greeeg, went on stage at 8 PM and still, nobody told us if we were allowed to serve alcohol.
“Screw it. We’re open. But keep the bottles underneath the well just in case.” Kevin shook his head, frustrated.

The music was incredible on Saturday night– a mix of disco, trance, minimal tech, and lots of good classic house. The evening line-up of beloved LA-local DJs included Yair, Adam Rose, Kana Hishiya, Halo Varga, and Black Loops. The crowd’s energy was higher, more electric than Friday, and since the bar shut down for the last half of the day, everyone came over from the pool pretty sober–which meant the bar got busy. Because I was working, all the sets blended together. I tuned in and out in between rushes. Looking back, I wish I had more details to distinguish each performer’s individual set.

At one point during the night, Lucas came up to me and hugged me out of nowhere.
“It’s super cool you decided to come up with us,” he said, “Do you wanna dance for a bit?”
“Yes, let’s do it.” I smiled at him and looked over at Noah and Ava. “We’ll be back in a bit.” Lucas and I went out to see Black Loops, who is known for producing darker, garage-influenced house music. Lucas and I found a spot toward the middle of the crowd and started to dance.
“How tall are you?” Lucas asked, looking down at me.
“I’m 5’10.” Lucas nodded, smirking.
“You’re tall.”
“Speak for yourself. How tall are you?”
“6’5,” he raised himself onto his tip toes and hovered over me. I could’ve melted. I knew this feeling. 

As we danced next to each other, I felt him look over at me a few times. I’d glance over at him and he would whip his head back forward.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurted out. He blinked at me.
“No, do you?”
“No.”
Ten more minutes passed and Lucas still hadn’t made a move. I couldn’t tell if he was being bashful or if he was signaling a lack of interest. My mind ran wild. Okay maybe he isn’t interested. Maybe I’m making these feelings up. Maybe he just hugged me to be nice. 

Ugh, I have no idea.

That night, we all got back to the cabin around 5am. By then, the delirium had hit all of us, and we were all acting like drunk teletubbies, giggling and groaning as we scuttled around the cabin, getting ready for bed, bonding over our mutual exhaustion. Everyone climbed in bed, and our chuckles became weaker and weaker as each of us started to doze off, serenaded by Noah as he practiced his stand-up routine.
“Did you guys know… that 79% of breathwork practitioners also sell ketamine?”

That was the last one I heard before morning.

Sunday:

The next morning, Kevin and I had planned to open the pool bar at noon. I woke up and checked my phone to see it was 11:45 AM.
“Kevin!” I threw a pillow toward his bunk.
He jolted awake with a snort.
“WHAT, dude?!”
“It’s 11:45, dude! We gotta go!” I hopped out of my bunk, grabbing my swimsuit and fanny pack.
Neither of us had set an alarm. Oops.
“You scared the SHIT out of me!” Kevin groaned as he rolled out of bed and threw on his shades. Lucas woke up too and came with us to help set up. Today was going to be the hottest day. You could feel it.

The poolside DJs who played on Sunday included Zoraya, Franky A, Michelle Leshem, Tottie, and Krane. By 1 PM, the pool was full and the bar was the busiest it had been. Lucas and I took orders while Kevin spent most of his time out in the crowd. I’m glad Lucas got up, otherwise, I think I would have been working alone. Plus, I liked working with Lucas. It was close quarters behind the bar and we flowed well together. Our dynamic felt more comfortable and flirty after last night. 

When Noah and Ava came down to take over the bar, Lucas, Kevin, and I headed back to the cabin to eat. Lucas looked at me, his eyes big and eager.
“Do you braid hair?”
“Yeah, I do!”
“Can you braid mine? Braids are my festival alter-ego.”
“Of course.” I ran my fingers through his soft, wispy hair and tied it into two loose Dutch braids. He looked like a hippie Goldilocks vibe. He checked himself in the mirror and grinned.
“Hell yeah. You’re the best,” he said, hugging me before throwing on his rave shades and flashing finger guns. “Let’s boogie.”

For the third and final time, the five of us set up the main stage bar. As Kevin drove Lucas and me down the hill and Noah and Ava came into view, a pang of sadness hit me. This was our last night working together. The universe was kind enough to throw me into this adventure during a moment where I felt really in my head about my life. For the past year, I had felt like I was floating. Unsure where to take a step forward. Ava was the person who I talked to most about this. I told her how I felt about how my previous desk job didn’t work for me, and how much better I felt working collaboratively, up on my feet, even if it was doing something as simple as event bartending.
“I know exactly how you feel. I’ve been working in events since I was 16. I’ve worked incredibly glamorous jobs and some that were terrible. Regardless, I still ask myself every day what I want to be when I grow up,” she said.

The roster DJs playing Sunday night included LAALLS, Soraya, Masha Mar, Dana Ruh, Konstantin, and Leafar Legov. As day turned into night once again and the music went on, I found myself again dancing in the crowd next to Lucas during Dana Ruh’s set. Dana took her time in her build-ups before she let the music drop, and Lucas made a comment about it.

“Any year now, Dana.” He said, sighing dramatically.
“She’s a woman, she likes to tease.” I shrugged. He looked at me.
“Is that what you’re doing?” He raised his eyebrows. I raised my eyebrows back at him.
“Not at all. I just have a crush on you.” I blurt this out as I bump my fist in the air. Lucas turned his head toward me, attentive like a dog who sees I have a treat.
“Yeah, I’ve felt that on my end, too,” he said.
And then we had one of those moments that we all gag at in movies when the guy and the girl finally give each other a permitting look to kiss one another, and sparks fly, and he’s tall and blah blah blah. 

For the rest of the night, I switched between bartending and frolicking through the forest with a cute boy like a giddy teenager. We swung on the riverside swings, did handstands in the grass, and sped down the campground’s empty moonlit dirt roads in the golf cart. It felt like a perfect end to the weekend—except the night wasn’t over.

After we closed the bar and got back to the cabin, I pitched an idea.
“I think we should put our swimsuits on and sit in the hot spring for sunrise.”
Despite our exhaustion, that’s exactly what we did. At 5:30 AM, we made our way to the pool deck. I set my towel down and dipped my toe in.
“It’s pretty warm.”
“Nat, that’s not the hot spring,” said Kevin as he walked past the pool and toward the trees on the other side.
“It’s not?” We followed Kevin past the pool down a short trail that led behind a tree. As we turned the corner, I saw two large blue-and-white tiled bathtubs filled with steaming hot water. My jaw dropped.
“What! I had no idea this was here!” I said as I felt the water.

Noah and Ava got in one tub, and Lucas and I got in the other. A flat barricade sat between both tubs where Kevin laid down on his back. The hot water felt incredible. We all sat in silence for a while. The first hint of morning light danced between the treetops, and the sky turned from gray to pink to light blue. The birds woke up and started to chirp hungrily. Ava lit a spliff. Lucas rubbed my feet under the water, and Kevin started to snore.
“Guys, I think this might be a core memory,” said Noah, breaking the silence.
It was.

After another hour of gibberish banter, we decided it was time to finally go to bed. I was fading in the hot water, on the verge of going nonverbal. I had no more gas in the tank. Three days of nonstop movement, running on a whopping total of 8 hours of sleep, were coming to a close. As we emerged from the spring, all I could think about was how good it would feel to be horizontal.

We began walking back toward the cabin when three guys passed us carrying a bunch of sound equipment and told us they were setting up for a morning set by the pool. Lucas and Noah stopped in their tracks and looked at each other with their eyebrows raised.
“You guys wanna go?” Noah asked with a mischievous smile.
“Absolutely not,” Ava and I jinxed each other. Kevin laughed and shook his head.

When we got back to the cabin, I lurched up to my top bunk and face-planted onto my pillow. Noah, now restless, changed into a new outfit and clapped his hands.
“Alright, guys, hustle! Let’s go! Who’s coming with me?” Noah said, looking around. I groaned. Lucas threw on his shades.
“I’ll go with you, brother.”
“YES! My hero!” Noah wrapped his arms around Lucas. “The rest of you are dead to me. Let’s go.” And the two of them shot out the door.

The five of us woke up at 3 p.m., sweaty and discombobulated. My circadian rhythm felt like it had been twisted into a fisherman’s knot. After one final plunge in the pool, we packed our stuff into the car and said our goodbyes.
“Thanks for trusting me,” said Kevin as we hugged.
“Thanks for trusting me,” I said, squeezing him. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever see these people again. Would I get back to LA and realize that I was actually sick and this was all a fever dream? I guess we’d have to see.
I took my rightful seat in the back of Noah’s car, and we headed back down the mountain. The vibes on the drive home were night and day compared to the drive up. Everything felt warmer. More intimate. Driving down the last part of the mountain road, we watched the sun set over the sprawling farmland of Bakersfield. Noah continued to play his music. Lucas went back to drafting invoices. I closed my eyes and reflected on what a gift this weekend was and how alive I felt. And how none of it would have happened if I wasn’t willing to go alone. But I did. And I gained four new exceptional friends and an overload of core memories that I wouldn’t trade for the world; yes, there was a chance this could have been a kidnapping ploy. I could have ended up dead in the woods or sucked into a Bakersfield meth cult. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. I could feel it. I had also stalked them all on Instagram before I left and they all looked relatively normal.

Despite lack of sleep, physical exhaustion, and a probably too much drinking, I came away from that weekend feeling more grounded and alive than I had in months. It was medicine—the kind that only comes from pushing yourself into the unknown.

The weekend also showed me something I hadn’t fully believed: it’s possible to build a flexible, fulfilling work life. Freelancing has always felt impossible, but it isn’t. It’s scary, but it just takes time to find the right people. And sometimes, you have to leap in the dark to find out who will catch you.  

As of now, I still bartend for Kevin in LA. Lucas and I still see each other. Ava and I have become close friends, and I’ve caught Noah’s sets a few times. Since Echoes, these magic people have inspired me. They’ve welcomed me into their circles, vouched for me, opened new doors, and treated me with nothing but kindness and respect.

It goes to show: when you don’t let fear hold you back and dare to do things alone, a whole new world can open up.