When we’re dancing in the dark, in the dim-lit bar, They say we are ugly in our beautiful façade. Dancing in the dark, cuz we feel so young, Crossing through the border till our hands fall apart. When we’re dancing in the dark, we won’t get far, One step falters and we’ll never see the stars. Dancing in the dark, till the light comes up, We could be forever if our eyes stay shut, When we’re dancing in the dark.
He was dancing in the dark, in a dim-lit bar.
He wasn’t seeking any trouble in this terribly dense, smoke-saturated, sweat-inducive - especially disgusting considering that he was wearing his favorite jeans, and electro-music-blasting black box when their gaze met. It wasn’t even a calculated glimpse, but one of those after which you would turn your eyes away immediately under the sly disguise of shyness. But Naush couldn’t turn away as the technicolor hit his eyes at the right angle, and suddenly they were trapped in a dazzling kaleidoscope, and there were only them. He clearly did not know the consequences of this glance, but the dance pool kept getting smaller, their feet closer, and they leaped onto the stage, and their body, their hands, their sleeves, their scents, their heat, their fine hair, and the fresh taste of orange lip balm—
They were dancing in the dark because they felt so young.
Tenderness was the first thing that hit him, then mounting pressure when the closeness got even closer. Short, warm currents brushed through, tingling and reminding him that they were breathing the same breath, that their heaving chests and beating hearts had synchronized. His eyes were closed, but light must’ve escaped through the cracks, for when his chin was gently lifted, what he saw was a sky full of stars where a watery night flirted back. They were in a perfect tableau. Neither of them moved, not a knuckle, not an eyebrow, not a tremor, not a blood cell. Because moving would mean the desecration of something primal, the declaration of an end to this impulsive moment, the crushing of the possibility of rendering this evanescent beauty eternal. And the buzzing of the music was so far away now, the crowd’s cheering slowed down, screams of joy faded, and ecstasy was brewing as their hearts filled up, and gravity was pulling them down —
Final-dancing in the dark, they won’t get far when the light comes up.
Someone grabbed him by the arm and pulled him with surprising strength. “No one wanted to see that.” For what seemed like an eternity, his eyes shot open. He lost his balance and tilted over the edge, losing contact with the fingers with which he passionately entangled a moment ago. “The stage was meant for girls only.” The security guard’s cold voice chiseled in. The stars were gone. Techno lights broke through, blinding his sights while heavy beats robbed him of his sense of direction. He turned around, almost spinning, hysterically searching for the face he felt so intensely, one that gave him a fleeting tease of infinity. It’s gone, and he panicked. He couldn’t breathe, not because he was pushed into the crowds, from which he escaped, but because he lost the person he escaped with. He tried to close his eyes, sought inward that darkness, and cried out for the moment to come back. But he never saw the stars again, never felt the same beauty, and now he was left with the ugly facade.
Then, he was dancing in the dark.