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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1932751-Live-While-Were-Young
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by Tansy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Prose · Young Adult · #1932751
One night, two new friends let themselves loose in what has been a mad month
As I made my way through the crowd to the clearing I spotted him easy; his shirt was the same colour as the drink that he clasped in his hand, plum. Once he spied me walking towards him, he smiled. As the song draws to the end, we great each other in a hug, he explains that he is pleased to see that I did make it here, as I wasn’t sure if I would make it to the party earlier that night.

That is all in the past now as the next song starts and we look at each other, grinning. He placed his wine on the nearby table before turning to me and rubbing his hands together, like he was getting ready for something big.

Finding a space on the floor I began to swing my hips in two sharp twists, a moment later repeating that movement, and again moments later, then once more for good measure. Between each twist, I clicked my fingers, as the electric keyboard slid down the scale the room around us flew into life with dancing again. He was mirroring my actions all the time, smiling gleefully as we knew what was going to happen.

She hates those dance scenes in the American films that are populated in the mainstream media. Yet here she was; it could be a scene from a movie. Only difference; the only thing they wanted at the end was to have a good time for the 3.54 minutes that this song lasted.

We started dancing in a group of people but quickly gravitated away from them and started dancing alongside each other. Somehow, he ended up behind me and as I went to turn around to see where he was I felt a body close to mine. Looking up I saw him smile down as he moved right against me.

To outsiders this could be seen as two drunk comedians trying to get it on in the last ditch attempt for the festival fling. Truth is, it was one drunk comedian and one sobar comedian that needed to loose themselves in the music as they had just finished comedy festival. The drunk one for the first time, the sober one for the second time.

Looking away from his gaze I looked up at the brightly coloured decorations and lights that surrounded us from above. It was a Bollywood themed dress-up; both of us decided to go smart casual, and by casual I meant ‘not racist’. The main colours were bright; yellows, pinks and blues. Even though I wasn’t sure of the theme because of some of my friends I thought that it was nicely done.

My conscious was blurred until I felt a hand brush against mine, by blinking my eyes I came aware of the surroundings I was in again. Looking at him, he bowed his eyes as he went to move it away. It was here when I made a snap decision and took hold of his hand. A sigh of relief rushes over both of us as he tightens the grip and starts to swing it back and forth.

Our bodies turn back towards each other as we continue to dance. The smiles on our faces are genuine, as we know that this may not be long but for the duration of this song – we are dance partners. No mixed messages, no lost causes or low expectations; just two new friends enjoying one dance before we part ways for a year.

It may have been a one hit wonder by a band that’s name was an onomatopoeia from 1984 but it was one of her favourites. By the end of the song she knew she would be needing a drink and her chest would be sore but at this point in time she didn’t care. There was celebrating to do.

Breaking contact briefly, we both raised our hands above our heads in a cross between spirit fingers and a deaf round of applause. Taking my hand again, we jittered and jived about the same circle. Smiling, I lifted my left arm above my head and I twirled myself under his, breaking our clasp to reposition our fingers so we were not giving each other a Chinese burn. He was surprised that I did this stylish move. We knew then that we had found the magic, the bliss that we both seeked.

As we danced there, I remembered a conversation that had happened earlier that night. I divulged to my friend that earlier in the evening I was subject to some distressing phone calls and although it was all ok now, the stress that had caused made me very on edge. Now on the dance floor I could hear the words that were said earlier to me running through my head; ‘…. Whoa you have had a night. I think you need to find a friend and dance the night away….’ I was dancing my troubles away, not just for me but for my co-conspirator who was at home in bed, ill.

The twirls kept coming. After a double one I tripped slightly and fell into him, laughing with me, he helped me gain my stability again before twirling me again. As the song drew to a close I pulled him into me and wrapped my arms around him, leaning up I kissed him on the cheek before saying “Thanks for the dance.” I watched as he jumped up and down to the new song that had started playing, smiling. I had just had my festival dance and it rocked.
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