And you're the only thing that's going on in my mind

Taking over my life a second time

I don't have the capacity for ing

You're meant to be helping me

I’m standing in the middle of the dance floor. Bodies were grinding in slow motion. The song gradually ascends preparing for a bass drop. I’m standing still. My hands hang carelessly on my sides. I feel sweat forming on the back of my neck. And I just continue to stand.

I don’t really remember how I got here. I just felt lonely. I didn’t want to stay in my apartment. The silence there was deafening and I needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere that wasn’t quiet. Anywhere that wasn’t there. Anywhere but there.

Here, everyone’s having the time of their lives. They seem to be lost in their own little bubble. They’re dancing all their trouble away. The ty music is just a dull rhythm guiding them.

Why can’t I join them?

Why don’t I just close my eyes and get lost in all this chaos?

Perhaps it’s because I get this nagging feeling to keep my eyes wide open. It’s telling me that I shouldn’t even blink. Because closing my eyes would mean missing a moment. It would mean wasting one precious second of this rare night.

“Ready for some real music everyone?”

I turn my attention towards the stage. I never noticed it when I came in. They actually had real instruments on the platform. And now there are people in the background setting it up. Everyone’s attention were suddenly fixed on the host standing in the middle of the stage. He was staring back with a wide grin holding the mic close to his mouth.

“Sorry for the delay. The band got a little…strung out,” he said. He winked slyly and continued, “But without further ado…here they are!”

The lights went dim and the outline of five figures went up the platform. The audience surprisingly calmed down. I could feel the atmosphere changing drastically. It’s as if it’s turning from a reckless night to a sober one. And this seems to be the pinnacle of everyone’s night.

I couldn’t make out anyone’s face on the stage. Only the outline of their moving bodies as they settled on their instruments could be seen. I could tell, though, none of them wore any bright colors. It’s safe to assume this wasn’t some pop punk band about to perform. It’s probably going to be some grunge rock band or something similar.

Then everything went quiet.

The audience seems to be holding their breaths.

Then it all started.

It started with an oddly cheerful beat. The guitar lines rippled and a practically joyous rhythm ensued. It was a song you could dance to. It was catchy and quirky. But it was somewhat out of place.

The spotlight finally hit the stage, revealing the band. Screams erupted out of nowhere for an entirely valid reason. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps this was funky pop group. They may not be wearing any trendy clothes but they sure fit the category of a boy band.

There on the stage were five gorgeous men performing what sounded like a very catchy pop song. They were all undeniably good-looking, from the drummer at the back maintaining the beat to the bass player on the side strumming with a big smile plastered on his face.

But it was the front man stealing the show. He was doing this odd little dance move, swaying his hips subtly and swinging his free hand recklessly to the song. It wasn’t his movement that was attractive. It was his face. His features were as sharp as concrete, high cheekbones, strong jaw and a tall nose. His lips were stained red, mostly likely from drinking something, and they were forming a smirk. And his eyes…his eyes were piercing. I can’t tell what color they were but they somewhat glinted under the lights.

“Hey boy, stop pacing around the room…” he sang. His voice was surprisingly high but it resonated loudly. The crowd cheered louder and started to dance to the song. The song itself gave out a very happy vibe. The singer sang with a grin on his face, dancing oddly to the beat. His dance moves were peculiar but they seemed to fit the music.

People attempted to sing along during the chorus, throwing in made up lyrics. It was funny how most of them desperately wanted to get lost into a song they didn’t know. The singer gave out a small chuckle as a group of women in the front tried to imitate his little dance. He gave them a wink as he did a random twirl with his mic. It was all very strange. The whole club’s aura seemed to have changed. People were dancing to some random song a while ago and now they seem to be enjoying what sounded like a feel good nursery rhyme. They all seemed to get lost in the song in a whole other way. I guess music really does have an impact.

“Ahh! God he is soooo hot!” gushed a girl nearby. “He sounds so y singing such a cute song!”

“I know right!” her friend replied, “I just want to do him so bad after this!”

I chuckled. It’s so funny to witness modern day groupies. They didn’t even look like they were legal.

“I wonder what this song’s about? It sounds like they had fun writing it,” Groupie 1 continued.

“I don’t know but the lyrics are romantic!” Groupie 2 laughed.

The two resumed their fantasizing as I walked closer to the stage. It wasn’t an easy feat. Bodies were swaying, grinding, moving to the beat. I could feel slick skin rubbing against my exposed arms. I couldn’t help but grimace at the unwanted intimacy. But I wanted to get a closer look at the singer. I wanted to listen to his voice more. So I continued to go through the sea of unfamiliar bodies until I finally arrived a clear vantage point.

And he was no less attractive up close. Now I could see he had a rather muscular build albeit it looked lanky from afar. His shoulders were broad and his muscles lean. The sinew shape of his back was partially revealed by the grey muscle top he was wearing. His leather jeans emphasized his lower regions as he swung his hips subtly from side to side. His smirk remained plastered on his face as the song neared to an end.

“I’m not giving it up, not giving it up,” he recited, with a sly smile forming on his mouth.

His lyrics repeated as the sound faded. And as he sang the last line, he tilted his head downwards. His gaze met mine. Our eyes locked. His black pupils glinted.

Author's Note: 

The song is 1975's UGH. Chapter titles will be lyrics. The story itself will be based on a certain playlist.