Cimber trudged along the cobblestones, putting a hand to her mouth to stop the stream of giggles. Her girlfriends, Holly and Gemma, shrieked with laughter. The latest town gossip had enthralled them, illuminating their faces much as the moon illuminated the dark street. Cimber looked upward, smiling serenely at the moon. Or, rather, the illusion of the moon. The holographic projection that was in place today was a replacement for the original one that had been blown out of the sky years ago. Cimber stumbled; the moon had been distracting her.
It certainly looked like a moon. Admittedly, she had never seen the real moon, of course, but Cimber was pretty sure that a moon was easy to reproduce in pixels. The dying laughter of Holly and Gemma brought Cimber back down to earth. She ran a hand through her dark chocolate curls and smiled at Gemma.
"Anything interesting up there?" She smirked at Cimber. It was a sound her mouth was used to making. Gemma, for all she pretended to be otherwise, was nothing more than a pretty face. Her father owned a few mediocre restaurants around town, and her mother owned a trendy jewelry shop on Nile, the city’s main shopping street. Gemma’s light blonde curls bounced down her back, rising and falling in tempo with their owner’s footsteps. Her heels clacked on the ground, having trouble finding safe ground on the cobblestone. Gemma waited hesitantly for an answer.
“"Oh, shut up. I like the moon. It's romantic, and all that junk. Well, what's left of it, anyway. Whatever!” Cimber’s eyes sparkled as she responded, her voice filled with glee. The three friends were going out together to celebrate. There was nothing in particular to celebrate, just the fact that the three were alive, well, and best friends. Of that, there was no question.
The three had been friends since primary school. They met one day while in line at the cafeteria, and quickly bonded. Now that they were grown up, per se, they continued their playground romps in big girl haunts: the city’s downtown district.
The cobblestone abruptly ended, and the girls sighed with relief as their tired feet touched smooth cement.
“Guys, stop, my shoe’s messed up,” Cimber called, bending down and grasping her shoe. The shoe looked like something out of a vampire movie; it was all black leather with darkened metal studs thrust through it. The heel was tall and chunky, the way Cimber preferred it. Surprisingly, it was easy enough to walk in. Once you got over the initial blisters, she thought to herself.
“Those shoes are amazing, you know. I want a pair so bad,” Holly whined. She, too, was blonde, but her hair flowed down straight down her shoulders and over her back. Unlike Gemma, Holly’s blonde was natural. It was a golden blonde, a reassuring color. It fit perfectly with her grayish-blue eyes and her heart shaped face.
Cimber looked up to respond, but caught her breath as she saw a dark figure approaching them. The figure was young, well built… obviously male. He continued to get closer to the three girls, picking up speed as he closed the distance.
Cimber watched with amusement. She hadn’t had time to check her mobile, she was sure it was one of her friends coming to check up on them. She was correct. As the figure passed into the streetlight, she could see it was her classmate, Ben. Cimber wasn’t quite sure of his last name, but she was terrible with names. Even the name Ben wasn’t a guarantee.
“Ben?” She called, taking the chance. Cimber grinned with relief when he acknowledged her. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re not the only ones going out tonight, baby,” Ben grinned, his pearly teeth shining in the light. He was moderately good looking, with his tousled black hair and brown eyes. Cimber didn’t like him much; he was way too touchy. True to form, Ben wrapped his arm around her waist and hoisted her up to her feet.
“Hey Ben, you look good tonight,” Holly purred. She had a thing for Ben. It was true, she had a thing for a lot of boys, but Ben topped her list. Holly had no problem with touchiness. Ben let go of Cimber and stepped closer to Holly. Finding her much more responsive, Ben took a hold of her hand and led her toward the dark nightclub that was just now turning on its lights.
“Ugh, looks like Holly’s off with some guy…it’s not even midnight yet!” Gemma groaned.
“Don’t be so surprised. You’re the one who always calls her a pony,” Cimber answered, starting to giggle.
“It’s not my fault she likes to be ridden around!” Gemma called out loudly. She shook with laughter and clasped a hand to her mouth. Holly hadn’t heard. It would be a miracle if she could, anyway, the way she was pressed up against Ben.
“Come on, let’s go in. I’m ready to have fun,” Cimber pulled her mobile out of her simple black clutch, tapped the screen, and entered her password. A welcome screen flashed up, and Cimber squinted at the sudden brightness. “Five ‘til midnight, Gemma.”
Gemma quieted her laughing and smoothed down her emerald green dress. It was of a shiny, smooth, silky material, and had oversized crystals around the neckline. True to the current trends, the hem rose way above the knees.
Cimber wasn’t the type of girl who followed trends. She wasn’t an obnoxious fashion girl, but trends usually didn’t appeal to her. Cimber’s style was odd; it was very dark, with lots of blacks and greys, although she never shied from color when given the opportunity. She looked down at herself. Cimber was so self conscious of her body. She was stick thin, and had been called a “giraffe” for as long as she could remember. Cimber’s chest and back were unimpressive, unlike Gemma, who sported, and flaunted, her own assets. Cimber made do with her skinny body, though, especially her legs. She was proud of her legs. They weren’t anything special, really, but she was proud of them. Cimber had wanted to get more definition on her calves, but her body was resistant to exercise, it seemed.
Black tights adorned her skinny legs. Tights, while not in season, were a perennial favorite of Cimber’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress without tights. The tights were quality-made, as the small metallic luster revealed. A high-waisted, dark purple bubble skirt teetered precariously high. She had hiked the skirt up as high as was possible; the tights kept everything hidden. Cimber had on a simple black silk tank top that flowed freely along her small body.
The heavy beats from the club were vibrating the cement sidewalk, and Cimber looked up, annoyed at this minor inconvenience. She groaned, pulled herself to her feet, and shot Holly a quick text message: WE’RE GOING IN.
Gemma pranced up to Cimber, her mouth ablaze. “Let’s go, I want to go in! I love this song! Cimber, stop being such a sloth!” Cimber groaned and allowed Gemma to pull her toward the entrance. The bouncer, a big, heavyset man, looked the two girls up and down as he held his hand out. A scanner, housed in his heavy paw of a hand, beeped forlornly. Cimber and Gemma both pulled out thin metallic cards, each with a faint image of their likeness. The man pressed the scanner to the cards quickly, eyeing the girls’ greedily the entire time.
After two disappointed beeps, the scanner conceded that the girls were, in actuality, of age. The door behind the bouncer opened with a whoosh of cold air, blowing back Gemma’s golden locks. Cimber giggled.
And with that, they were in. The music was overpowering, shaking Cimber to the bone. Gemma was yelling, screaming something. She was an inch from Cimber’s ear, but it was as if Gemma were a mime.
“I can’t hear you!” Cimber shouted, knowing how futile the motion was.
Gemma opened her mouth in exasperation, then turned around and started walking. Cimber grabbed Gemma’s ring-encrusted hand and followed her. Gemma, a fairy in green, guided Cimber through throngs of people, maneuvering as skillfully as a high-stakes grav-racer in the arenas.
Young women in skimpy dressed danced and swayed to the deep, omnipotent beat, their multicolored hair flying about. Men, intimidated by these dancing beauties, watched from the edges of the club, nodding their heads in tempo. The entire room seemed ruled by the beat. The women’s shoes stamped in rhythm; the noise was deafening. The music quickly picked up, moving faster and faster. Disembodied voices pranced through the room, whispering enticingly, moving the music along.
The club was dark, with green fluorescent lighting behind the bar and along the wall. Dark leather couches lined the walls, and curled into a lounge-like ‘U’ along the far wall. Matching bar stools curved gracefully along the length of the wooden bar. The floors were a similar shade of wood. Everything in this room reminded Cimber of nature. Ferns hung from the ceiling, releasing a cool moisture from their decorative pots.
Gemma finally stopped, their adventure ending at the bar. Miraculously, two bar stools were unoccupied. Cimber hopped on, giggling with excitement. She had been in such an odd, speculative mood earlier. It was the moon, she convinced herself.
Gemma, as if in tune with Cimber’s emotions, squeezed her arm and laughed. Gemma was glad to have a kindred spirit to indulge with. Cimber elbowed Gemma out of the way and pulled out some money, waving it in her hand. She bit her lip as she watched the bartender intently. She kept her eyes focused on his every move. The sinewy muscles in his arms stretched as he poured drink after drink.
Finally catching her eye, the bartender moved over. He was dark, with dark hair and dark eyes. Heavy eyeliner rimmed his eyes, giving him a brooding appearance.
“Can I get you something, ladies?” He shouted. It was a bit easier to hear over here, where the music was a bit less invasive.
“What’s the special?” Cimber called out. She could care less about the drink; what Cimber liked was the interaction. Her favorite game of all was the one men and women played.
“Depends on what you like. I make a mean Moonshine, sweetheart,” He responded. His hands were fidgeting, flipping over a lime wedge.
Cimber inhaled sharply. That’s so weird! She thought. Moonshine… “We’ll take two of those, please.” She turned her head and shot Gemma a smile. “Sounds good, huh?”
“Yeah, whatever. I just want to dance, Cimber. Hurry up and let’s go.” Gemma looked exasperated. The club was packed tonight, and with a good crowd to boot. Their combined energies could almost be felt over at the bar. Almost.
Cimber paid the bartender and grabbed the drinks, handing one to Gemma. Cimber sipped it. The drink was sweet and ice cold. It left an icy trail down her throat, dripping into her stomach, where it warmed her insides. She took a few more sips, shook it, and followed Gemma out to the dance floor.
Cimber looked around. She could feel the tension elevating. People were looking around, searching for something. She couldn’t tell what it was, but everyone seemed excited for it. Cimber whirled, as graceful as an acrobat, preserving her drink from the swaying bodies. Anxious to start dancing, she finished her drink and set it down on a side table. Grabbing Gemma’s hand, she made her way to the center of the crowd.
Hot, sweaty bodies pressed against hers, forcing her to sway and move in rhythm. The crowd was one body, an ocean consuming itself with passion. Waves broke off, spray crashed over rocks, all in a frenzied act of self destruction. Cimber was swept up by this wave. Even her mind, her consciousness, was swept under the mighty current. She found herself yelling, screaming, her throat going hoarse. She raised her hands with the crowd; she lowered them accordingly. A sudden silence swept the room, and the storm died down. The ocean calmed itself, going flat.
A gentle murmur spread through the room. Music never turned off here. Not in this holy sanctuary where the young went to celebrate their vitality. The murmur rose to a buzz.
“What’s going on?” Cimber called to Gemma.
“I’m not sure. Do you want to go outside and find out?”
“No, let’s stay. Holly’s in here somewhere too, remember.” Cimber scanned the room, but found no sign of Holly.
“Right-o.” Gemma sipped at her drink nonchalantly.
A sudden sound of strings swept the room. The buzz immediately died out, and everyone looked around in wonder. The strings stayed at a constant volume. Not very loud, but enough to keep the crowd silent. Even Gemma, who was usually loud, caught the vibe. She only shook Cimber violently, trying to elicit a response.
Cimber stared, mouth open, around her. The sound was incredibly, indescribably beautiful. It echoed through her mind, little ribbons of melodies that were born, played, and died out on the spot. She smiled in response to Gemma.
The strings were getting noticeably louder now. The crowd noticed, and began buzzing again. They were unsure how to respond, wondering whether or not to dance. The strings were loud, piercing. They weren’t getting any quieter, either. Cimber clamped her hands to her ears. They were horribly loud, piercing her head. The tempo picked up, driving the strings faster and faster.
The music escalated, moving faster, higher, and louder. The crowd was visibly uncomfortable. People put their hands over their ears. But through all of the noise, no one moved. Everyone was riveted in place.
The strings reached a peak, and quickly quieted. The entire room was quiet. A collective gasp flew up around the room. And suddenly, without warning, a deep bass drum pummeled the floor. The shockwave spread throughout the room, awakening the patrons of the night from their hypnotized state.
A second beat, and a third, slammed into the ground. And with that, the music started. The crowd went wild, screaming and jumping around. The club sprung into action.
Cimber felt the music pulsating through her. Every fiber of her being felt alive. Her toes, her feet, her legs all played along with the music, contributing their own melody. Gemma danced and swayed, rocking her arms up and down. Her eyes were closed as she escaped into her own fantasy world. Cimber sighed.
This was why they went out dancing. To escape from the world, and to shake all the dust off of their shoulders. To become just children, frolicking and having fun in the way only the young can. All the burdens of the modern world melted away. They didn’t have to hear how their generation was ungrateful of the sacrifices of their parents and grandparents. They didn’t have to listen to the stories of how hard life was as their grandparents adjusted to life after the War, or how their parents struggled to adapt to their new lifestyle.
Yes, it was difficult, never truly seeing the sun or the moon, or being able to appreciate the vast unknown of nature, but Cimber and her generation had never known it. They’d never swam in the ocean, or trudged through jungles, or scaled mountain ranges so high the peaks scraped God’s belly. This generation’s entire life existed in their peaceful, undisturbed underground bomb shelter of a city.
And it was enough for them. Cimber never felt regret, or wanting, for pleasures she couldn’t even imagine. As much as the adults nagged, she couldn’t understand how she was taking anything for granted. She wanted a normal childhood, and couldn’t see how having one was taking any respect away from her elders.
Cimber realized she had closed her eyes. She opened them and smiled at Gemma’s moving, writhing form. The beautiful silk green dress was rippling around, the closest thing to an ocean Cimber would ever see. And to Cimber, that dress was enough, better than any old ocean of her great grandparents.
Gender:
Points: 300
Reviews: 0