Heather’s feet hit the floor, they move, rhythmically. Beats surging through her, she moves. Pure energy, the bass in her chest, peaking, surrounded by ten thousand strangers and two friends, Heather was in ecstasy. Drum and Base pumping from the speakers moved the crowd. They were a turbulent sea of bodies.
Reaching to Sergey for the second flask, “Hey, can I have it!?!” asks Heather. Sergey reluctantly passes the leather bound flask to her. The bass explodes, as the whiskey hits her throat. Dancing that borders on convulsion continues as she clears half of the flask.
“That’s enough!” shouts Sergey as he snatches the booze back.
“Don’t be such a party pooper!” Sarah says as she tries to seductively grab the flask from him.
“You’ve had enough, too!” as he puts the liquid fun back in his pocket. “I’m not here to party you know that.”
“You should drink the rest of it! You’ll feel, SooOOOooooOOo much better. Do it! You know you want to,” Sarah says pressing herself against him.
“Nice, try. But no,” Sergey says grabbing her hand as she reached for the flask.
“Fine, be that way,” Sarah throws him a pout laced smile. Looking over to Heather, the rhythm finds her again. Moving in complimentary chaos, a new peak brings a moment of slurred clarity. She runs a hand through her hair. Sensational feelings, unparalleled connection, and unbounded love tingled throughout her body. Plunging her hand into Heather’s hair, she watches her best friend’s eyes roll back in splendor.
Coming down the other side of a plateau, reveling in the physical, finding comfort in the existential; Heather leans into Sarah’s touch. Together, they share a moment as one. Their eyes closed. The music and quaking ground aligning their movements, they turned to face each other.
Sergey looks on, like a judgmental father; turning to scan the waves in front of them, locking eyes with a security guard in front of the stage.
“How we doing Party People!?!! Alt-Fest! Let me Hear you!!! This Next song goes out to YOU!! Thank You for being Here With Me,” screams DJ Slie. A slow melody sweeps through the crowd. “Come on, You Know This One,” The crowd erupts.
A simple beat joins the mix, the crowd sways, with heads to the sky they sing,
“Nothing lasts for long,
You live, You die, You’re gone,
Nothing’s really wrong,
We live, We die, You move on,
This is Olga’s Song!”
“Beautiful! Give it To Me Again!” bellows DJ Slie.
As the crowd begins to its ebb and flow Sarah and Heather sing at each other, crying out each word like a Baptist singing in the choir. Ineffable the feeling of singing in that moment, nothing else mattered to them.
DJ Slie, “Listen for the Gun to Cock, 3.. 2.. 3.. 2.. 1 GO!!”
The sea pauses with the sound, the bass kicks DOOMP DOOMP DOOMP, smoke clouds the sea, Sergey stands fighting through the pain of the bullet in his gut. Through the fog and lasers, he can’t make out much around him. He looks to find Heather and Sarah. They were not in eyeshot. A hand on his stomach Sergey rushes toward the back of the crowd. He stumbles barely keeping his balance with the help of a neighbors shoulder. Silence from the speakers as he steadies himself. Tapped on the shoulder from behind, he turns, a short figure with a skeleton smile bandana greets him, the bass kicks as three perfectly timed shots drop Sergey in time with the bass. Lying on the ground he sees Heather on top of Sarah frozen in agony. They stare at each other as the crowd sings,
“Nothing lasts for long,
You live, You die, You’re gone,
Nothing’s really wrong,
We live, We die, You move on,
This is Olga’s Song!”
Danton Lamar & Werd Ent. 