a short story by Nick Bussenius

You made it inside. Your feet hurt and you realize you’re shivering from the cold outside, but you made it inside and that’s all that matters right now. Alongside you, three of your friends also made it and while you thought more would be here, you already know not everyone can get inside in time. The air smells musty with faint traces of cigarettes and you hear a muffled sound coming from deeper inside the building, a soft beating, pulsing through the tight hallways, mixed with voices and shouts.

After putting away your jacket and backpack, you and your friends decide to visit the bathroom first. You enter the only free stall, and your friends follow you inside; after all, the space is limited, and you should use it efficiently. The pungent smell of ammonia fills your nostrils, and you stop breathing through your nose. After all of you are done, you feel at ease. You can finally begin to let go of the past days and weeks.

You leave the bathroom behind and make your way inside. Lighting is only used sporadically, just a few lightbulbs illuminate your way and, at points, there is no light at all. You move along the tight corridor, the sounds becoming more pronounced with every step you take, until you arrive at a junction. To the right you can a see warm, but turbid light illuminating the corridors and hear the sound of a few dozen people talking, creating an unintelligible echo. To the left there is darkness, only broken by a few flashes of bright light, and the beat you’ve been hearing since arriving. You and your friends consider which way to go. Your friends want to go to the right first, but the beating in the darkness has enthralled you. Every pulse of light and sound commands you to step into the dark. Your friends have made up their minds and are making their way down the right corridor, while you stay behind, uncertain of your next move. You see them, almost at the next bend of the corridor, when you decide to follow your intuition and walk down the corridor on the left.

The darkness envelops you and the beat becomes louder. A sound like giants hitting drums to prepare for their last, now forgotten, crusade, the flashes of light conjuring a raging lightning storm in your imagination. You arrive at the bend of the corridor; the sound of the drums is beginning to push the air around you into your ears, dulling all other sounds. After a couple of steps, the corridor begins to widen and you can see a crowd of people, moving, illuminated only by the flashes of light. The building has swallowed you whole and you’re deep inside its churning entrails. You can see rows and rows of people, men and women, all facing the front and swerving from side to side. You move closer to the crowd, observing their behaviour, but, just like everyone else, the drums command you to move. You begin to swerve, but quickly realize that that’s not enough. You want to feel it. You move forward through the crowd, softly pushing others aside and dodging people that are un-pushable. You’re in the centre of the crowd and feel movement all around you. You begin to heat up, the cold of only a few minutes ago is not even a memory anymore. While you move, you still feel unfulfilled. The centre seems good at first, but to truly feel it you have to be in the front, you think to yourself. The crowd becomes denser the more you move forward and your pushing through is met with stares and drowned-out words from strangers, but that’s none of your concern right now. The front is almost in sight and with one last push, you’re part of it.

You feel like you can breathe freely again, even though the air is hot and humid. You made it and the reward for your perseverance is the freedom to move and to finally see the source of the drums and flashing lights. You begin to move again, more actively than most people you’ve seen so far. While you’re moving, the lights begin to switch, the flashes of bright, white light flicker less than before until they stop entirely. The drums stop as well and the anticipation rises, as if the room is holding its breath to prepare for a jump into unknown waters. The room becomes dark for a moment, until the lights return, this time in a kaleidoscope of colours. Simultaneously the drums return, louder and faster than before and you know there is no possibility of not moving right now and you let go of every other thought. You only become aware of your surroundings, when the drums begin to calm again, and you begin to look around. There are no familiar faces close to you, you’re still alone and you’re beginning to wonder what your friends are doing, when you see a head turn and a pair of eyes meet yours. This is nothing unusual, you think to yourself. It’s not your first time being here, nor is it something unusual to see someone new here, but this time feels different. A person moves aside, and you can see the face of the person looking at you and for the first time since entering the room, you stop moving. The eyes belong to a woman, roughly the same size as you, and her gaze towards you continues uninterrupted. You’ve seen her – or rather the back of her head – in the front before. She was dancing energetically, differently from the rest, but now, just like you, she’s standing still, keeping the eye contact intact. A smile flickers over her face and, mesmerized by her, you’re unable to resist and return the smile. The colours around you begin to increase in luminosity and intensity. Her smile grows and begins to shine radiantly, and you begin to feel a tingly sensation in your feet. This sensation starts to take over your body. At first softly, like the first few waves of the returning tide, soon like a tsunami crashing onto shore. You see her in the bright lights and your mind becomes hazy, when the colours around you begin to erupt even more brightly and fog envelops you and the rest of the crowd. You still see her, only a few meters away from you, but then the fog becomes too thick, and you lose sight of her smile, lost in the brilliant nebula of colours.

You’re ecstatic. Your heart is racing, and your thoughts are shooting in uncountable amounts directions, as if your brain has made you aware of your billions of synapses firing continuously. Your surroundings begin to feel overwhelming, and you realize that a break is in order. You make your way back through the crowd, but always looking around, hoping to catch her gaze again. You enter the dark corridor and move towards the warm and hazy light. You move along the corridor and towards the other part of the building, the outside area. You enter the outside through a door. It’s heavy and the window in the middle shows you, that, just like the floor, the outside area is packed. Before closing the door, you turn around to see if someone else wants to go outside and you’re partly blinded by the harsh white light above the entrance. After walking around the area for a while, you finally see your friend sitting at a table. He’s joined by others. People you’ve seen here and talked to before and a few others you’ve never seen before. You join them and the conversation continues. Stories of other nights like this are shared, thoughts about issues and non-issues are discussed, stories about found friends and lost loves are mixed with achievements; is there much truth to any of those, you wonder, but in the end, you conclude it doesn’t matter. The set of people at the table changes continuously. Your friend left thirty minutes ago, but you’re still sitting there, with people you’ve never known up until now and will never meet again. Cigarettes are being smoked at such a pace, you would think they’re gum drops, and while you always think to yourself that it’s harmful to do so, right now, a single drag lifts the weight from your shoulders and smoking an entire cigarette envelops you in a warm blanket of comfort and relaxation. And while you sit there, chatting and smoking, your mind occasionally wanders back to her.

You yearn to see her again, so you begin to rotate between the floor and the outside area, occasionally going to the bathroom to drink and rejuvenate your feeling of ecstasy. Outside you make friends, inside you let go of thought, until you leave the floor and sit outside again. This time you’re alone at the table, but you don’t mind. You’re enjoying your state of euphoria and don’t necessarily need anyone else to do so. This changes when you see the door to the outside area open and see her in the line of people who want to leave the area. You only see her profile and this time she’s not looking towards you. As she gets closer to the exit you see her, illuminated by the light above the door. She turns around to laugh along with a friend of hers. Her movement takes only a few seconds, but to you, it seems that time stands still. Her hair, flowing and untamed, shines in bright white, like a willow frozen in deepest winter and her smile shines even more brilliantly than earlier. When time unfreezes again, she’s already inside and you sit at your table, alone, as before, but this time with more on your mind.

And so, the night continues. You rotate between the outside area, the floor and the bathroom. Hours have gone by in mere minutes. You find your friends, old and new, all over the building. You dance on the floor with them, talk and laugh with them and let go of your thoughts again. And you remember that you haven’t seen her in a while. Over the course of the next few hours, you’ll keep looking out for her, thinking about approaching her, anticipating a possible future interaction, and wondering if she thinks the same.

The night wanes. Sitting outside again, you realize the sky isn’t entirely dark anymore and your body is slowly telling you how much work you’ve done tonight. Your feet hurt and you’re feeling warm and sweaty. Knowing your limits, you begin to prepare your departure. You grab your things, your friends, and start one last rotation trough the building, looking for people to say goodbye to and for things you might have forgotten. The moment you leave the building, the cool air hits your face, you hear birds chirping happily and the brightness outside blinds you. It reminds you of the exit of the outside area and of her. It reminds you of her hair and her smile. Her smile, still, in the front of the crowd, looking at you, and now, never to be seen again. Her smile already beginning to fade in your memory.

A smile fading into the dark.