Page 41 of Relapse

“Bitch, that's not dancing, that's falling, creatively!”

She laughs so hard she almost loses balance again, and somehow after that, the night just… dissolves.

The music gets louder, and the lights get softer.

Everything starts blurring together in warm flashes of neon and bass and sweat-slick bodies moving in sync beneath the exploding lights overhead.

Mina disappears somewhere into the crowd with two girls dressed like cyber fairies and a guy wearing furry leg warmers, yelling something about finding tacos before vanishing completely into the chaos.

Which honestly feels very on brand for this place.

I stay in the middle of the chaos, letting the music swallow me whole.

The cyanide humming through my bloodstream turns everything floaty around the edges while the bass pounds hard enough through my chest to feel like a second heartbeat. Bodies move against mine from every direction, strangers grinding close in the packed crowd while smoke and heat curl thick through the air.

And thankfully, my brain finally goes quiet.

Just music, movement, and heat.

My eyes close while I melt into the rhythm completely, hips rolling slow against whoever’s behind me now while hands slide onto my waist through the foam beginning to spill across the sand covered dance floor.

Soft cheers erupt through the crowd when the cannons overhead finally blast.

White foam explodes across the stage instantly.

People scream and laugh, jumping into it like little kids.

The beach disappears beneath thick waves of bubbles climbing higher and higher while lights flash neon pink and electric blue through the haze.

I laugh breathlessly and keep dancing anyway, while hands tighten against my waist again.

Big hands land on my waist through the foam, steady and possessive enough to make heat coil low in my stomach instantly.

My eyes close for half a second while I melt back against whoever it is, bass shaking violently through the dance floor beneath us while bodies grind and slip around us in flashing neon chaos.

And oh.

There it is.

That feeling.

That dark little pulse low in my stomach that says found you.

I spin slowly through the foam, damp hair sticking to my shoulders while bubbles cling to my chest and thighs beneath the strobing lights.

And there he is.

Noir.

Dressed head-to-toe in black despite the heat, sleeveless shirt stretched tight across tattooed arms while silver jewelry catches flashes of neon every time the lights hit him. Bleached hair messy from the humidity.

Rings glinting against the hands still locked possessively around my waist.

He looks completely out of place in the bright chaos around him.

Too sharp and dark.

Like somebody dragged a thunderstorm directly into a rave.