The summer solstice brought with it a palpable buzz of elation. The sun had finally set, and the warm breeze carried fireflies along the gentle river. Children frolicked on the banks, the sound of their bare feet running across the damp pebbles mingled with their shrieks of laughter. Tents lined the grassy fields, their lamps and candles casting a comforting glow. Cakes were sold, drinks were poured, greetings were exchanged and music was blared.

         He stood by the bar, leaning against the tabletop, facing the crowds. A soft, diluted cocktail sat in his hand, lukewarm for he had taken too long to drink it. His blouse hung limply over his belt, trying it’s hardest to stay tucked it, and his jacket itched at his wrists. He had already heard enough conversations and been offered too many baked goods.

         As he stood there, by the bar, he watched the small clearing dim as the colourful lights flicked on. An excited chatter washed over the crowd like thunder rolling over the hills. People began to flood in, waiting for the music to come. When it did, they began to dance.

         “Not feeling it this time, eh?”

         “What do you mean? I’m having fun.”

         “You don’t need words to lie, your face has beaten you to it.”

         He scoffed as Alfred pulled up a chair, spinning him around.

         “Where’s your sister?”

         “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

         Alfred laughed.

         “Don’t give me that. She seems to be the only one who can cheer you up.”

         “Well, I don’t know. She’s somewhere there, I s’pose.”

         He gestured to the bustling crowd as Alfred poured him a fresh drink.

         “Ah, well,” said Alfred, passing him a glass of punch, “maybe you should go find her then.”

         He didn’t say anything. Alfred shrugged.

         “Have you danced yet?”

         “Yep.”

         “So, now what are you doing?”

         “Cooling off.”

         “Oh, come on,” whined Alfred, “it’s Summer! Enjoy yourself, forget about how you don’t like parties.”

         “It’s not the parties, I don’t mind parties. It’s the summer. It’s so warm and sticky and you can’t move for more than five minutes without having to unstick your shirt from your back.”

         “Alright, alright, maybe summer isn’t the greatest, but at least try to enjoy yourself?”

         He chuckled, then nodded to his friend. They both looked out at the sea of people and stars.

         “So, where’s Linda?”

         “Linda? I think she went for a shoe change. Dancing in heels is impossible apparently.”

         “No, no, no, dancing with you is impossible, Alf.”

         “O-ho-ho, don’t you start with me.”

         “It’s true, your balance is terrible.”

         “My form is immaculate. Some say I am the greatest dancer in the city.”

         “Yeah, well what about the time you slipped on a figment of your imagination and pierced the beer tankard?”

         Alfred laughed at the thought.

         “No, no, no, that’s, that’s unimportant. No need to bring that up.”

         “And the owner made us all clean up your mess with you?”

         “Ok, fair. Not my finest moment…”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

         “Oh! Are we talking about Alf? Don’t forget the time you ‘accidentally’ fell into Ms. Eleanor’s bosom.”

         “Oh no…”

         Alfred dug his face into his hands laughing into his palms.

         She sat down, her dress folding over the high seat. The sleeves of her cropped jacket stretched to below her wrists as she leant forward.

         “Hey Neil! One of what he’s having!”

         “Oh! There’s Linda. I gotta dash, see you!”

         Alfred got up and jogged back toward the dance floor. She giggled.

         “Nice to see him in his element again.”

         He breathed a laugh.

         “Where’d you get this?”

         “The dress is my mom’s and the jacket’s mine.”

         “And the wig?”

         “Ha-ha, very funny.”

         She laughed as Neil the barman poured her drink. Her mascara and eye shadow were subtle, but it made her eyes glow as bright as the lanterns. She didn’t wear fancy makeup often.

         “Have you seen William?”

       He shook his head.

         “No, why?”

         “Oh my god, he’s so drunk.”

         “Get out of here, again?”

         “Yeah! And you’re gonna be too if you don’t stop lurking around the bar all the time.”

         He smiled earnestly. They drank in silence for a moment, listening to the music.

         “Might be the only thing summer’s good for.”

         He turned to look at her.

         “What?”

         She laughed to herself, and pointed up. He looked.

         The stars rested their burning selves above their heads, effortlessly beautiful, glistening bright against the dark blue sky. They were so full of life, yet so still. He remained, craning his neck, dazed at their beauty.

         “I wish I had one.”

         She giggled at his comment.

         “What do you mean?”

         “I wish I could hold one. Put it in a snow globe so that I could look at it whenever.”

         “Me too.”

         “I don’t think there’s anything I want more than my own starry reality, right down here with me, always.”

         She sighed in content, before turning back around. Her eye shadow glittered as she turned, flashing in his eyes.

         “Well I can’t give you that, sorry.”

         He turned to look at her, she was grinning.

         “You’re teasing me.”

         “No.”

         “Yes you are.”

         “Ok, fine, I’m teasing you, but not because you sound dumb.”

         She nudged his shoulder. Then she stretched.

         “So, what, you’re going to stay here all night?”

         He smiled and took a sip of his drink.

         “You know I’m not much of a dancer.”

         She looked at him with those glowing eyes of hers. Swirling her drink around, she gazed out at the crowd. She took a quick sip, before putting the glass down.

         “Shame.”

         She got up and dusted herself off, tucking her hair behind her ear.

         “Where are you going?”

         “Duh! To dance? Where are you going?”

         With a cheeky smile, she turned and ran off into the crowd, her boots flicking grass shavings behind her white dress. He lost her head somewhere in the glow of the fairy lights and the shifting currents of dancing people. He put his drink back down on the counter and looked up at the sky again. It sparkled in his eyes like glitter.

         “Some night, huh? I wondered whether or not the dances would still be in this year, but wow. What a turnout! Where’d the little miss go? It’s not really her element but she’s probably the most hyped up here. Must be nice to be out of the garage every now and again, I bet it’s a nice-”

         “Be right back, Neil.”

         He lifted himself up and began walking quickly toward the crowd before he could stop himself. His legs were moving without him knowing. Half of his brain was shut off and the other half was thinking about the glittering flickers above and dwelling somewhere the crowd. As he walked down the hill, the music changed. Synths replaced drum and bass, and the melody became echoey. It sounded large, it sounded spatial.

         He walked through the people dancing. His ribcage contained the vivacious creature that was his heart, slamming restlessly against the bars of its confinement. As the verse began, the music softening, he walked further in. He looked into the crowd, trying to focus amidst the humid heat. He turned, and turned again, and as he turned a third time, a sparkle pierced his right eye.

         Like in slow motion, the sparkle came closer, and she emerged from the haze. When she swayed, the skirt of her followed half a second later, billowing behind her. She stopped just in front of him, looking up. Her colourful mascara, like the tail of a peacock; he couldn’t tell whether he was intimidated or enticed.

         He took in breath, but when he spoke, a mere feeble exhale escaped, void of vibration, but rich with purpose. The message caught somewhere in his throat, but she giggled softly and smiled, as if she could hear it even through his bashful silence.

         She extended out her hand, and his own began to move. What was moving it, he couldn’t quite figure out, but it definitely was not him. Every fibre, every stretching tendon and grinding bone working as one engine, the shoulder lifting the fingers to meet hers. The initial touch, then the palm. The stars were now in his retina, dancing around her face.

         She smiled, and they began to spin. Or maybe it was the world that was spinning.