Reel to Real

Lights dance in shining circles, as we watch the scene of the room from above. Our view transcends as we move closer towards it, and we begin to focus on the crowds of people around us. Our eyes scan the Chromatic room. Through the neon lights and crowds, we see him. He stands in the corner of the room; eyebrows thin and arched, athletic build, dark-complexion, majestic appearance, dark, long-sleeved shirt, faded blue jeans, bright white trainers.

He runs a hand through his chocolate brown hair. As his eyes catch a gold light, they are the colour of the sweetest caramel. We approach him.

The lights dance, left and right, creating a sea of colours in the brimming room. People spin their bodies in time with the loud, banging music, until they are only a bright blur of colour. The disco ball glimmers magically, inviting us to the brightly illuminated dance floor.
A girl jumps up and down, her golden hair bouncing around her minute face like electric eels. Her eyes heavily lined, shadowy and bold, prominent and blue. Her smile brightens as she catches his eye. He takes a glowing, neon flute from the table and casually absorbs the cool, icy liquid. We see her tiny hand, her fingernails glitter, reaching out to meet his. He takes a soft grip on her hand, and allows her to revolve around him, her shining, striking dress flowing behind her like an ever-flowing stream of silver. Her hair cascades over her slender shoulders, moving like an ocean tide. One, two, three, four. The beat of the music continues. Turning quickly, his light brown eyes lock with hers, as he returns a smile of affection, his powerful and brawny body taking control. We focus on them as they swirl around in one big blur, their bodies moving in and out of each other in time with the music.

Some girls watch avidly, envious of the charm and attraction that they possess. Others watch in fascination, as they move in synch, entwined with each other, twirling around in a small spiral. As the music gradually slows down and finally halts, they separate and glimpse around the multitude of faces, watching them inquisitively. The pair edge their way through the smoky and cramped room together, out of the door to the openness. We follow them, pushing and squeezing through the masses of bodies.

We spot them together on a small bench, their faces intent and their mouths moving quickly. The streetlights shine in the darkness. The breeze of the wind causes the trees surrounding them to shake violently; they tremble in the chilly weather. However, they don’t seem to realise this. The moon looks down upon them and welcomes them, its pale light brightening the dark sky. The street is vacant and exposed, all we can hear is the distant thumps of the beat of the music and the loud clear babble of their fiery conversation, still continuing on into the night.

She scribbles her name and number onto a piece of paper, they exchange a farewell and disappear into the night, becoming only a shadow in the distance. We begin to slowly regress from the scene. The streetlights turn into a deep orange glow, growing farther and farther away. Trees sway from side to side, branches reaching out their long, thin fingers, awaiting to clasp their victims in a firm and tense grip. Roofs of buildings, and pointed chimneys can be seen, their corners sharp and jagged as if attempting to cut the velvet night sky. Murky low-lit streets come into our line of sight, the suburban area gives a wounded sigh as it becomes dominated with dark shadows. The monotonous streets stretch onwards in all different directions, becoming alive and thriving among the dusk. The heart pulses with life, awakened from it’s deep sleep. We are able to see small alleys and parked cars beside tall buildings, as the breeze whistles around our ears. As we continue to regress, our sight becomes blurred, and the scene goes from tiny dots to a light grey, and finally a dark black.