Only Just Begun

Last Dance

The dance floor froze in an instant. Bodies lost in euphoria stopped, glasses trembled in hands, and the thundering beat of the music became nothing more than background noise. In the center of the floor, amidst flashing lights and suspended confetti, Jerry collapsed. His body — tall, solid, seemingly unshakable — crumbled like a concrete tower.

Carol saw everything. The image of his body hitting the ground stuck to her eyes like a scene refusing to leave her mind. For a second, she stood still. Then, as if waking from a nightmare, she ran toward him. She dropped to her knees, breathless, heart pounding, while colored lights still danced across the walls and the faces of the crowd. She knelt beside him — motionless, sweaty, pale, and oblivious to the chaos around him. She placed her ear against his chest. His heart was beating. Too fast. Too strong. Like it was trying to flee from his body.

— Call an ambulance! NOW! — she shouted, her voice slicing through the music and scattering idle conversations.

Daniel arrived in a heartbeat. He dropped to the floor beside his friend, holding him like he was trying to stop someone from crossing into a place of no return.

— Come on, you big oaf. Don't do this to me right now... — he murmured, his eyes welling with tears. The giant who so often seemed invincible was now... vulnerable. Fragile.

The crowd buzzed with whispers. Some filmed. Others simply peered over shoulders as if witnessing an unexpected performance. But for Carol, this wasn't a performance. This was real pain. And strangely intimate.

"Why are you feeling this for someone you barely know?" — reason asked her. But her heart — that restless fool — whispered "Sometimes it's not about time. It's about presence. It's about soul."

— Jeremy... listen to me... come back. — she whispered in his ear, voice trembling.

Liam rushed in, wrapping her in an awkward embrace, as if he could cancel the chaos with a performative gesture.

— Calm down, my love... help is on the way. This isn't your fault.

— Who said I feel guilty? — she shot back, eyes burning. Her tone left no room for doubt — this wasn't just fleeting concern. It was something deeper. More visceral.

— He's a stranger, Carol. You don't have to carry the world on your back.

— He's not a 'stranger', Liam. He's a person. And he's here, alone, fighting for his life. And I was with him...

Liam said nothing. His silence spoke more than any argument could.