Their bodies rippled and curved and leaped, giving the music’s rhythm an outlet of unapologetic expression. Their laughter swooped through the room in soaring releases of amusement, breaths oscillating in quick wriggles between the laughs. Inside them, sacks of their energy had been teasingly punctured, and now it spills out, charging the air with light-hearted defiance.
The air. There could easily have been a sparkling mist hovering over them. No white stars pricking the eyes of alcohol-immersed teens, but glittering, iridescent joy fizzing out in sprays of liberation.
This is how they felt good. The people they let into their depths, the music which stirs and stimulates them, the place where they feel comfort melting into their skin like butter.
This is how they get to feeling truly, beautifully whole and empowered.