It was getting dark outside as the bright lights of the festival blinked on.  Smells of delicious foods filled the air and squeals of laughter from game booths rose up amongst the noise.

                I, however, was barely able to enjoy any of this as my friend dragged me through the crowds.

                “If we don’t hurry we’ll miss the show!” she said insistently. 

                We finally stopped in front of the large open area where a stage had been set up and was now being tested for lighting.  My friend planted herself in the front row and then shot me an expectant look.

                “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

                “I want to have a look around the festival.”

                “You can go look later!  The show is going to start soon.”

                I pouted and took the seat next to her, kicking the ground like a little kid.  “Why do we have to watch this anyway?  Is something important happening?”

                “Didn’t you hear?  That dance crew is going to perform.  Everyone was talking about it.”

                “Those guys that are our age?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. 

                “Keep an open mind,” my friend chastised. 

                Suddenly the lights went off – signaling the beginning of the show – and a group of girls ran over and surrounded us in the front row.

                My friend nudged me and raised her eyebrows as if to say See, we got these fantastic seats because of me and held up her phone to start recording. 

                A white glow blinded me as the music came on and the stage burst into action.  There was a group of five masked boys dancing a clearly well-practiced routine. 

                One person in particular stood out to me.  He was smaller in comparison to the rest, but his moves lacked nothing.  I found myself holding my breath as I watched him perform.  He was graceful yet powerful, relaxed yet precise.  He couldn’t have been older than I was, but his confidence made him mature.

                Even though I was surrounded by so many other girls and he was wearing a mask, I swore that he caught my eye.  A small smirk tugged on his lips and I involuntarily smiled myself, my heart pounding a mile a minute.

                Then, all too quickly, the group hit their ending pose and the lights went out, giving way to loud applause and cheering.

                “Weren’t they good?” my friend squealed.

                I willed my pulse to slow down and nodded.  “Yeah.  They were good.”

-x-

                That night faded fast and summer ended before I knew it.  Yet I felt trapped in the emotions from that moment in time, when that masked dancer and I locked gazes.  Without my friend knowing, I went into her phone and sent a picture of that boy to myself.  Later, when she found it, she teased me endlessly, saying that I was his stalker fan and I was madly in love. 

                A few days passed after the start of school.  During lunch break, my friend and I were idling around campus when we heard music playing.  A group was gathered, cheering and laughing.  Curious, we went over to investigate. 

                My heart stopped.  There, in the center of the crowd was a boy, grinning as he moved to the beat.  He wasn’t wearing a mask then, but I instantly knew it was the person I had secretly crushed on since the festival. 

                It took my friend a few minutes to catch on.  “Oh my god, isn’t that the guy?”

                I figured from the other boys encouraging him that his name was Chan.  I watched from afar, clapping along with the crowd awkwardly.

                Suddenly, I felt someone push me into the center of the circle from behind.  I looked back with bewilderment.  My friend smiled wickedly and called out to me excitedly.

                I soon found myself face-to-face with Chan.  Recognition flashed over his features and he grinned. 

                “You were at the festival weren’t you?  Front row.”

                “You remember?”

                “Of course.  You’re really pretty,” he said shyly.    

                Someone changed the music.  Chan held out his hand.

                “Shall we?”

                Before that day, I thought I would never see that masked dancer that had captivated me so much.  But now he was right before me, without the flashy stage and costume yet still just as bright.

                I smiled and took his hand.