Skeleton Head
"There!" She held up an arm, pointing ahead to the neon sign down the street. 'Skeleton Head' it blinked, the neon arrow above the letters animating to point inwards.
Trevor, who wasn’t any taller than her in her four-inch-heeled boots, swayed closer to see around the head of the man walking in front of him.
They stopped at a crosswalk, and she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, watching the cars whiz by. It was High Street, and there was no lack of movement. A man with a briefcase walked briskly by her as the walk symbol clicked on, and a couple passed in the opposite direction with a tiny, yapping dog, and three boys sauntered by holding slices of pizza. The sun was dropping in the sky, but the city was just beginning to wake up for the night.
Trevor trailed behind her, not for lack of interest, but just because he wasn't used to being downtown. Or anywhere that wasn't his tiny everyone-knows-everyone town.
At the entrance of Skeleton Head, she could read the smaller lettering on the neon sign: ’Bar and Nightclub.' A place like this wasn’t usually her scene, but she was willing to give it a go. She opened the door and stepped in, immediately welcomed by a wash of warm air and music. The opening act was already visible on stage straight ahead.
The bar stood between them and the concert, and they were stopped to show their tickets. As she was getting scanned in she noted that just to the left of the doorway was a booth, and a single man sat hunched over it, an array of books and a laptop in front of him. It reminded her of her college days, which weren't that long ago, but this was a strange place to set up to do homework.
Then they were whisked into the crowd, towards the stage, and everything was unfamiliar and sparkling.
"We should've brought glowsticks!" Trevor called over the music, and she looked around to see a man with glowsticks threaded through his dreadlocks, and someone else with arms ringed in glowing bracelets.
"If only we'd thought of it!" she replied with a laugh.
They went further into the crowd, but Trevor stopped towards the back, close to the bar where people were still milling about and ordering drinks. She stopped too, eyes glued to the enchanting scene ahead of them.
Three disco balls spun overhead, sending constellations of shimmering lights onto the walls, and lasers from overhead chased the dancers in the crowd. Candelabras fitted with LED candles hung from the ceiling, pulsing with an unearthly orange glow. Giant red velvet curtains were draped on either side of the stage, framing the DJ in the center, who vigorously mixed his music, holding up a hand and grinning at the crowd.
And the crowd. People were laughing and dancing and swaying and putting their arms up in the air, and everyone seemed so comfortable. Normally people scared her, but something about this space felt inviting.
Maybe it was size; it was so small. The other concerts she’d attended had been much larger venues, and had involved a lot of shoving and tight spaces and people bumping into her and breathing down her neck. This was nothing like that. It was crowded, definitely, but not cramped. Everyone had their own space to move, and the dancers ebbed and flowed, allowing people through and in and out effortlessly. Like it was choreographed.
The music vibrated through her body, an electronic beat that reminded her of the music she used to put on when she needed to cram in a study session before a big exam. She let herself bob her head, feeding off the energy of the crowd. She noted that Trevor was nodding with the music as well.
The DJ punched a fist into the air, then jabbed at his midi keyboard. "I love you guys!" he shouted into the mic, beaming into the crowd.
Everyone cheered, and there were shouts responding, "I love you!"
The musician continued, pointing. "You all! I love you!" His arm arched to encompass the people in the back, by the bar, and it almost looked like he was pointing directly at her.
"I love you!" she shouted back, her voice among a chorus of combined voices with others near the bar. She had no idea when the last time she'd ever told anyone she loved them was.
The music continued, pulsing in the floor, in the air, in her bones. Lasers flashed through the room, raised arms dipped up and down with the beat, the walls and the crowd were splashed with colors.
A guy in flame-shaped sunglasses politely asked if he could pass in front of her. "Of course!" she told him, and a girl with red and yellow hair followed behind.
"This next one's called 'Tired,' cause I need more sleep," the DJ said from the stage, then took a swig from his water bottle and adjusted his beanie.
A tall boy in front of her held up his cup. "SAME!" he hollered, and Trevor laughed, and the boy grinned at the two of them, and they smiled back at him.
She didn't ever dance, really, for anything. Not in front of other people, anyway. And she never went to clubs, either, not even in college. But this place was different. It felt right, it felt like the parties they showed in movies: neon and crazy and loud and gorgeous.
She put her hands above her head and let herself move.
Trevor waved an arm to the beat too, and they both cheered with the rest of the crowd when the DJ finished his set and thanked everyone again.
"Are you all ready for Lightning Myster?" he shouted before he left the stage. The roaring of applause and shouting filled her ears.
She looked to her side and smiled at Trevor, who shouted, “Yeah!” It was his favorite artist, had been ever since she met him four years ago in college. It was funny how some things never changed, some things were too familiar to change. Like their friendship.
She’d been surprised, at first, when he’d texted her. She hadn’t heard from him in at least two months, which wasn’t his fault, but hers too; she was terrible at keeping up with people. They hadn’t seen each other in person for two years, not since he’d transferred to a different college for the last year of his degree.
She’d missed him, some, and maybe she should have missed him more, but the truth was that she got on fine without him. Her other friends were easier to keep track of, and one of her friends in particular had gotten into a nasty argument with Trevor just before he decided to transfer, so there was a rift in what used to be the most perfect friend group in existence.
Even though no one would tell her the exact details of the falling out, she’d stayed friends with both sides, because neither had done anything to slight her. But deep down she also knew that, if she had to make a choice, she’d side with her other friends over Trevor.
Still, none of them were here, and now it was just the two of them. It hadn't been the two of them, alone, in ages. Probably since she told him that she didn’t want to date him. But they’d gotten over that, just as they’d gotten over everything, and now their friendship was easier, because at least that was out of the way.
“I’m going to get a drink.”
She nodded as Trevor stepped away, but it didn’t take long, as they were pretty much already standing at the bar.
He returned, and she said, “It looks like there’s room up there, do you want to try it?” She pointed ahead, because there was room. Plenty of it.
“Sure.”
They wormed through the throng of people, but didn't make it far before Trevor stopped again. “This should be far enough,” he said.
She smiled to hide her thread of disappointment, because they were barely encompassed by the crowd, and she wanted to finally know what it was like to be. She wanted to be so surrounded by music and dancing that she would have no choice at all but to become both of those things. To become one of these carefree people.
It didn’t take long before the lights went out. The disco balls and lasers and fake candles went dark, and a transparent screen was rolled out in front of the stage. A projector was lit, and Lightning Myster appeared, standing behind the screen so that he was just a shadow.
Everyone went wild.