3

"Michael..? I don't feel so good.."

Michelle (she's one of the dancers) is being led out into the halls by her hubby to take a breather from the highly charged gym. She had been cheering on the spectacle of Alex and Azad duking it out with the soyboys. But she could not ignore the whirling, growing inside her mind, and like a moth regretfully tearing itself away from the flame, she sought out Michael (her hubby), and in the desolate solitude the hallways provide, you could hear her panicked wheezing.

"Michelle, it's not just you," her hubby goes. "I'm feelin' it too, just keep your eyes on me, breathe deeply – it's LSD!"

"El.. Ess.. Dee?" She concentrates on each of the individual letters as if they were edges to hold onto in the waters overtaking her.

"Yeah, LSD!" Michael almost seems enthusiastic. "I tried it once before, such a mind-blowin' experience! Like your self is lifting away from your mind. Awesome if you're in the right mood and setting. In a place like this though.. someone.. someone's fuckin' spiked the sangria!"

"But why would they do that?" Michelle goes.

She is following Michael, stumbling through the candlelit halls. The flames flickering seem to take a new, demented life, in tune with the thumping bass of the DJ's music. "We need- gotta have to find a room for ourselves," Michael says.

And there's a red door, which leads into a kindergarten classroom. They enter, and when Michael isn't able to lock the door behind, he hastily finds small shelves, nearby desks, whatever to barricade entry into the room. It's arduous because there's two entrances to cover, but the best thing is it has a washroom (strictly for kids) as well as a fire exit leading out into the fields.

"Focus Michelle," he goes, and you could see how his eyes are growing bloodshot, his pupils starting to dilate from the effects of the sangria. "Help me with this second door.."

But for her, the world is starting to spin, as if she's getting attuned to the very ground beneath her, rotating – and she reaches for a chair, but the sight of the stitched teddy bear pops out to her vision, its eyes piercing to her very being, and suddenly, she is no longer a woman, but a scared girl all over again, and she is trembling on the hard carpet floor, eliciting moans from what she feels is that fear in the air. It's all over her, like water enveloping a fish.

Michael knows that the LSD will soon overtake his awareness too, so the last thing he does is kneel down and hold Michelle in his arms, whispering her name, and just letting her know she is not alone, as the unfamiliar fairytale murals on the wall intertwine, and the music thumps, on and on into the night.

Azad's dances grow clumsy. His own thoughts seem to loop back inwards in a tangled mess, and where he looks, everyone else seems to wander off, disoriented. What the fuck, this should be fun! The best part of the night!

He sees Alex, standing still, in a daze.

"Hallo? Alex? Earth to Alex, wake up!" Azad has the urge to keep Alex dancing to the music, so he grabs him by the arm (like some life-sized marionette), and Alex yelps -

"Wha? Azad-?"

Azad seems intent on having Alex dance, he pushes up Alex's arms, left and right, and Azad is giggling – this is too cute!

"Azzaa, stop! Calmate, calmate!"

Azad lets go. Alex is visibly panting, sweat glimmering on his forehead. "I don't feel so good meng.. something's not right." He glances at Matthew and friends who grow incredibly rowdy, and over Azad's shoulder, he sees Amarna getting a bit out of it herself – she is feeling her own cheek, finding it flushed.

"What's not right?" Azad says. "Weeehehe." Then Azad almost slips on the flooring; he grabs onto Alex for support, only for the both of them to fall anyways – onto each other. If you didn't know any better, it looks like they were resolving some sexual tension, but Azad and Alex quickly wiggle out from each other.

There's laughter from some of the girls, as they point and one of them says out loud, "Now kiss!"

Amarna notices the scene; she joins in on the chanting – "Kiss! Kisss! Do it! Do it!"

"No fuckin' way," Azad goes, repulsed by the very thought.

"Pretend if it were me," Amarna apparently whispers under her breath. "What would you do, Azad?"

Then Azad looks at Alex, and for some reason the suggestion wiggles its way in his brain, and he sees Amarna's very sweet, fey face overlaid Alex's, and an urge overtakes Azad. Oh what a hell.

"Azad? What do you think you're doing?" Alex gets apprehensive of that new look from Azad's face, of eros, directed at him.

"Kissing you," Azad goes, and then he reaches out for Alex who's prone on the floor, and leans in, and with his hands reaches for his face and kisses him.

It's said that there's not much of a fundamental difference between the soul of a man, and that of a woman, besides the genitals you happened to be born with, and the dominant hormones pumping through your bloodstream. Men tend to be hunter-gatherers, while women the protective nurturers, but everyone in the end desires one thing – to feel fulfilled.

Azad's lips feel very chapped. The first kiss is so wet and strange and unfamiliar. After having shut his eyes, Alex opens them again to still see Azad, lips locked and eyes closed, feeling his beard and how fuzzy his cheeks are. It isn't just a random-ass dream.

Around them, the girls go apeshit, exploding in cheers.

Amarna is particularly touched by how really passionate Azad is in the kissing, even feeling arousal from it. Sometimes people you don't really notice until you give them the right moment to shine.

"Get away from me!" Alex screams, pushing the entranced Azad away and backing off.

"Hey Amarna, wait-" Azad goes.

It hits Amarna that Azad was thinking of her during that kiss. It makes no sense at all, but this strange feeling in her is letting her imagine the wildest fantasies, and touched, she wants to be the recipiant of that kiss Azad just gave.

But Azad, having woken up from his trance, realises what he's actually done. Oh no, fuck! What did I just do? I.. kissed my friend, Alex. Now he's running away from me like a pansy! And who could blame him? Am I actually gay? No, it's the sangria..

(what would you do Azad)

Why did I see Amarna in Alex?

(if it were me in front of you)

The very first day Azad joined the dance troupe..

It was simply a Protestant church by the supermarket. His mother said he needed to get out more with other people instead of lingering in his room all the time, playing League and hoarding Pepe memes on that dingy laptop. So Azad took her on that offer, and he saw there was a dance troupe looking for new members.

He saw how hot some of the girls were in the troupe's photos, and when he went, it was around 4pm in the late afternoon.

He was an hour early. There was nobody in the church; nobody except for the old lady who tended the corner desk and greeted him as he entered the opulant chambers. Nobody. He reached for his phone and tried to go on 8chan, except the church's Wi-Fi was password protected, and he'd overused his allotted data plan for the month.

Azad looked for a nice place to rest his ass, and he was able to enter the large church hall, full of benches, pastels, and chandeliers, where the pastor would make his sermons every Sunday morning. It's empty, and this gave Azad the temptation to just wander about, and do what he'd normally never do in an atmosphere of spirited soberity.

He waltzed down the aisles, and he went to the front. He pretended to grab a mic, reciting the latest memes to an imaginary audience ("Mein Fuhrer! We're going on a trip right down to Auschwitz! Burning to the skies, little Einsteins..!")

After getting bored of that, he went to the confession booth to the side. There, he entered through the velvet curtain, and he pretended to be the priest who took confessions from the poor, closeted pedophiles, incestuous family members and the ghost of Adolf Hitler.

"Hello?" he heard. It wasn't Hitler. But a woman's voice, echoing from the distance.

He peeked through the curtain. He saw her auburn, wavy hair (this was before Amarna dyed it whatever colours) and her navy outfit.

"Is anyone here?" she went, her Castellian accent showing. "For a dance troupe?"

She was also early by an hour. Azad thought of playing a trick on her – he wanted to pretend to be the priest who was awaiting her her whole life. But as she approached, he decided against it. It was his opportunity to be nice with another girl.. after what happened with Melina.

He popped out of the confession booth, grinning.

"Hallo, are you here for dancing?" he said.

"Yes – but nobody else is here yet!"

They had a while to spare. On one of the benches, Azad sat with the girl. He thought that she was a natural dancer, because of the graceful way she naturally moved (like a cat), but when it came to her backstory, she only blushed.

"Oh, that's fine, you don't have to say," he went, then admitted to her that he wanted to be with the pretty girls of the dance troupe – besides, it's a chance to do something new.

When she heard this, she couldn't help but laugh and guffaw, and then she laid a hand on his shoulder in gentle reassurance..

He saw how beautiful her blue eyes were as the evening sun shone through the stained glass windows. Moreso, he began to feel she was one of those unique souls (he couldn't put words to it), that he was so lucky to bump into.

"You think.." she went, "my accent is too strong? I'm trying to improve my English, you see, and to be honest, sometimes I'm too embarassed about the way I pronounce things."

The way she said it to him, she was opening up her vulnerable side – something Amarna would show in bits and tidbits to the other men in her life, and to her online audience, but never to this extent with another person. Until now.

"You.. are wonderful," Azad said. "Um, your pronounciation's wonderful. It's good."

He could not believe he'd blurted out his feelings like that. He didn't consider himself that touchy-feeling kind of person – the most was poking fun at hentai women with Kevin, and all those scenes he'd see in movies where the guy just loses it for the sake of a girl makes him cringe hard.

But already, he was feeling enlivened; he had made Amarna blush.

"Thank you," she said. She looked around the sermon hall. "Do you believe in God? Well, I don't. My maman would take me to church everry Sunday when I was young. But I never believed.. that there was this all-seeing, all-knowing Father who looked after everyone, who knew what they were thinking."

"Oh, who really does?" Azad went. "They're just made-up stories to keep people happy."

"But look at how people would make beautiful sculptures, tapestries.. whole buildings, churches in His name. Even though He is an imaginary figure, they cared so much and it made them happy and fulfilled. But I think life itself is the great beauty onto which the believers project God."

"It's just what people do to keep going in life, I suppose," Azad went. "Or else they have nothing to believe in, and shit gets crazy, yo." He didn't have any strong thoughts on that topic, but he was getting hungry.

He invited Amarna to come with him for a snack, and so they went back into the foyer and looked for any vending machine. There were couches, the golden rays of sunlight streaming through the windows, coat hangers and a small prayer room, but nothing resembling a source of food.

So Azad had the bright idea of going out – the church was beside a chain of food outlets and a supermarket after all, and they went to a Dairy Queen. A couple of teens who were quite loud and rowdy, talking about what they've captured in Pokemon Go, but the whole restaurant was very cozy, with the red and white tablecloths.

A table by the window, with the shades half-drawn, such that lines of sunlight shone over Amarna's cheeks and nose. They talked, joked around while waiting for an order of triple-decker fudge cake for Azad.

Of that time, Azad felt only happiness. He loved how light-hearted she was, and how he was just able to be comfortable sitting with a girl, like they were together – even though they'd only just met.

When Azad's cake came, Amarna wanted to try some of it out, so he took a bit and tried aiming for her mouth, but missed, leaving a chocolate streak on her nose. She retaliated by smoushing some cake on his forehead, and they had a bit of a miniature food fight before they ended up laughing their asses off.

The cake itself – you could say it was just some stacked fudge, but for Azad.. it was the sweetest, most fulfilling thing he'd ever tasted.

By then, Azad's phone was ringing with notifications, and when he checked, his mum was upset about how he'd not shown up to the first rehersal. It was ten minutes past the actual event time, and they both panicked, scrambled off the table, the tablecloth slipping down ("Sorry!" Amarna said, while giggling out the exit with Azad).

They rushed back to the church. It was a far different place than the calm emptiness which had welcomed the two. Everywhere, dancers of various sorts and kinds, who filled the foyer with lively chatter.

The dancers who dressed all in black. Who had glitter in their eyebrows. Who puffed their chests out beneath their shirts.

In the midst of it all, Azad found Amarna wrapping her fingers between his, as a source of comfort.

The troupe leader - she hushed everyone to quiet. A tall, finely built Latino woman. "For those who are new, my name is Tania. I lead the troupe; not the finest troupe in the world, nor the most extravagant – but if you dance sincerely for me, out of your heart, you will be the most soulful, passionate group of dancers I'll have the honour of working with."

The one-on-one interviews. Tania would ask a personal question; what you care about, what you feel, and your dancing experience. It was all conducted in a kindergarten room.

Amarna was open to the questions, while Azad was waiting in line, waiting for this thing to happen so he could get to the dancing bit. Some of the girls he saw were very eye-catching, he barely bothered to hide his interest as he made wink-winks when their eyes caught his, and the visceral rush he felt when he saw their asses. Life had only just begun.

The minutes passed by, and he never wondered what lay behind that door, with its orange and green diamond-like patterns on the stained glass, or the even blurred outlines of Amarna, gesturing and expressive to a still Tania.

Then Amarna came out, going "Phew!" like she had finished an exam, and Azad, grinning, went into the room she was in.

The room, with shelves of Christian-themed picture books and wooden figures of Christ hanging on the walls, almost leering. The door shut behind Azad without warning, muffling the commotion.

He was almost alone. But he could smell her sweet, humid scent.

Azad saw Tania, laying on a table, glancing back at him with a seductive allure. She has a video camera set up, which would record him sitting in a chair against a white backdrop.

"Sit, Azad," she went. "Relax. Make yourself feel comfortable.."

She looked like a flamenco dancer, and her presence projected spiciness into an otherwise ordinary schoolroom. Azad was thrown off by this, but a part of him fell into the feeling, saw the way her dress contoured her thighs. Oh god, she's so pretty.. I could just take her right here and now, have her moaning..

He went and sat on the leather chair, feeling a blush of warmth emerge from his body. Tania stood up, and she went to the camera and he could feel the hairs on his neck tingle from her gaze.

"Tell me, Azad.. what kind of music do you love?"

"What music do I like..? Um, I like all sorts of songs. Rap, lo-fi, jazz.."

But Tania was probing for what really excited Azad. "So you've diverse tastes. And I imagine, you do some dancing at home?"

"No, I just enjoy the music.. when I'm chillin' on my bed, when I feel bored and want to pass the time. It's good for the mind."

"But you never tried dancing to it?"

"Well, maybe a few times," Azad said. He was recollecting when he was with Melina - she was idly listening to Azad's music collection, and an idea had popped in her head. So she looked up a song on YouTube. It was something from Garbage, it had some moans in the beginning, and she danced to it in front of Azad. This was the coquettish side of Melina, and the way she moved her hands over her own body, it got Azad aroused. He saw her dance like this for a bit, and then he joined in, their bodies grinding, her mouth, her red lipstick – her breath quivering over his face, and Azad feeling her total warmth emenating..

"I danced with my ex in my room," Azad said.

Yes. When Azad thought of 'dancing,' he first imagined the simple dances he had been taught in school, the one-two step, and so on. Those were just movements by numbers. But he was starting to come to a realization about what Tania envisioned.

Dancing wasn't rote memorization or just simply holding the girl's shoulder and hips. It was the embodiment of emotion through movement, through pure bodily expression. Singers sing, illustrators draw, writers write and dancers do dance.

"I danced with Melina," Azad said, "and I saw her wildness, and I was enthralled and felt so glad in the world that she was by my side." He felt a pang of sadness emerge in his voice, as the fact that Melina wasn't there emerged in his mind again.

"You loved her."

".. I still love her."

"You loved, and that was a good thing you've had in life – even if it may have ended badly. What you remember the most tend to be the moments you've shared with people, near to your heart.

"And with me, you'll have the chance to find more of those moments. To make yourself known to the world. To feel alive." When Tania peeked out from the camera, he saw in her eyes she meant every word.

Over the days, Azad grew to know every dancer, if not by name, then by their faces and the style of expression they went by. He was becoming part of the line of beautiful treats you'd see in the bakershop window, appetizing to the eyes and delectable in your hands. He found it surprisingly fun, to the point where he'd look forward to the next rehersal, the next practice at the church. And by the end of every night, he'd come home - exhausted in a good way.

His heart though.. was still set upon her. Amarna.

The best moments were when he'd have the chance to dance with her, on the floor – experimenting with whichever moves that just felt right to do. Amarna had a natural talent with showcasing grace; her body was catlike, as if you could toss her fifty feet in the air and she'd always land, feet first.

Azad though, had more stocky-like movements, like a martial artist with his harsh punches and kicks. Hit him, and he'll hit you back harder.

In actuality, it was initially awkward for the two of them to work it out dancing, since Azad would want to do sudden movements, hip swinging, arms striking outward, which left bruises on Amarna. They got along in breaks, talking it out, and laughing about all the mistakes they shared.

The idea was duos-dancing to begin for newcomers, as one partner could bounce their dance ideas off their partner, and vice versa – an easy way to spark one's creativity. The more experienced dancers are busy preparing for a unified dance fiesta for an upcoming show.

Azad saw how the other newcomer dancers seemed to have a natural synergy. One was doing a cartwheel to have her legs caught by her partner.

Another (who was a Ukrainian contortionist) had spread his joints, such that he was a Looney Tunes cartoon character doing ballet.

What was Azad going to do? He had very little dance experience, and this whole number he's putting together with Amarna didn't have any coherent theme or that spark to it. He was going to let Amarna down, and make himself look like a total fool in front of everyone!

So he sought advice from one of the experienced dancers, a French dude who resembled Freddie Mercury.

"Oh, let me see how you two dance together," Freddie said.

In a quiet, low-key lit room where there were mirrors (all over) to reflect the participants, Freddie seemed nonchalant, a lack of reaction to Azad trying to prop Amarna up on his knee. Azad felt his heart sink with each passing second.

"Ok ok," Freddie Mercury went. "It's no wonder why you two don't seem to get along," and he went and took Amarna off Azad, easily lifting her (his hairy chest bulging with muscles). "You don't treat this delicate woman with respect."

A pang of jealousy swelled within Azad, as he watched Freddie handle Amarna with his supernatural ecstasy.

Amarna, in this guy's hands, she was transforming into a Flemenco star, as a big smile came from her face, her cheeks flushed, and as if in slow motion, her movements, the way her arms seem to catch Freddie's abdomen – it made Azad so deeply inadequate, and for a second, he thought he would lose Amarna to the other guys in the troupe, for in the end, what is he if not some lanky high school Kurd?

"Amarna's got the talent," Freddie was going on, as he seemed to clutch her by the breasts, "and you, you need to grow yourself a spine, you have as much chemistry with Amarna as helium."

"Ok, fu-thank you very much," Azad went. ".. for the 'advice.'"

Freddie chuckled.

Azad came out of the church, feeling for the first time so disappointed in himself. He let out a bit of steam, kicking a garbage can down and spilling its contents on the sidewalk. The night seemed to come onto him as he went away from the church's lights.. he felt too down to even pull up his phone and just chill his ears to relaxin' lo-fi..

"Azad- wait up, por favor!" he heard. Amarna's voice piqued him out of his lowly stupour. He turned around. As if stepping out of his dreams, she was there, lit by the church, a genuine saint sent for him in distress. "Azad, I'm sorry – that guy, he smelled like a fucking ashtray!"

It was her words that raised Azad's spirits, and her embrace – she went over and hugged him, and he felt once again that rush of connection he felt with her in the Dairy Queen, in the church, because she cared for him, she loved him back.

"I saw the way he made you look beautiful in his arms," Azad said. "I was jealous. I wish I'm able to do the same with you.. somehow, Amarna.."

Then, before he knew it, he buried his face in her neck as they held each other in the summer night. Although Amarna was sweaty (they both were) – she was so sweet, like orchids.

"You have the spirit," Amarna said, like whispering in his ear. "I know you do, Azad. Forget what that guy said. We just have to find a way for us to avoid bruising each other.. maybe, if we got to know each other on a better level?"

When he leaned back from Amarna, he found her smile – it was reassuring. Azad gazed upon her face, upclose, even with the little wrinkles he found around her eyes that showed she wasn't a teenager like him. The way her auburn hair gently wavered upon her neck and shoulders. Her eyes accepting of how he was, and believing in the person he could become. This was a different woman than that fiery, volatile Melina. Not better.. but like a different song from another album, enticing Azad with its own little beauty.

How else did Azad know to react – he went in, and shared a kiss with her. A first-timer's kiss. And when he opened his eyes, realizing what he'd done, he found Amarna wanting more – she pushed her tongue through, and he was shocked; a jolt of his sensation, as he'd never felt a girl do this with him ever.

The two of them didn't know what to say, but already they knew, their hearts were intertwined, irrevocably.