Embers & Neon Signs // A College Series

Episode One: A Dancing Disaster

It's freshman year here at Central University and the craziest thing that these students can come up with is playing Dance Dance Revolution in the second floor lounge? I let out an exasperated sigh and grumble as I shut my laptop. I suppose being bored with all of those people is better than being bored alone here in my room where the heat doesn't properly work. 

As I make my way down the hallway the errant smells of pepperoni pizza waft towards me. Pizza and the faint odor of college freshman sweating out the alcohol from their pores. How typical. 

Entering the room provided a rather interesting view: a dance dance revolution platform was set up in the far corner and a humble crowd of about fifteen guys and girls are hiding the two competitors from view. There is whooping and hollering from the crowd, a few frustrated grunts as well. Someone was very clearly doing worse than the other, though they seemed pretty jovial and lighthearted. Squeezing my way in between a few familiar faces I've managed to fit to the side of the stage platforms where it happens to be two tall freshman finishing up the song. Without much warning the boy closest to my side is shoved off the platform and right into my shoulder.

"Hey hey I'm standing right here. I know I'm short but not that short!" I exclaim.

The quiffed blonde runs his hand through his hair and burns bright in the cheeks. "Ah shit, I'm sorry. Don't blame me, blame him." A taller boy with dark hair and an eyebrow ring dusts his shoulder off and sticks his hand out.

"Mike, or Michael if I'm in trouble. Sorry about that. You okay?" His pale skin glows under the fluorescent lights but the paleness is offset by the blinding white smile he produces when the corner of his cherry red lips spread wide.

"Kenzie. I'm alright, we'll just say you owe me one next time." His handshake is quite the opposite of what you'd expect a young man to produce. It is soft and unsure, a hint to the person he is on the inside perhaps. 

"Do you want to try and dance?" The blonde asks.

"Me? Oh no I'm terrible. Wait; what was your name again?"

"Luke" he says. "And don't worry, I wasn't offering myself up quite yet. My good friend Michael-" he grabs his shoulder and shunts him rather harshly back towards the machine "-needs some more practice, you should try!" Michael glares at Luke but he doesn't notice a thing.

"Alright...I suppose it couldn't hurt... Don't laugh at me though alright? I've not got the best rhythm."I grab the hair tie from my wrist and wrap it quickly around my long brown locks, pieces of hair escaping along my face.

"Can't be worse than him so you're alright." Luke sticks his thumb towards Michael who is silently mimicking him behind his back.

"HEY!" Michael yells. "Let's go lady, hop up here so I don't look like an idiot."

Michael steps up and sets the game...and somehow of all the songs he chooses Sandstorm by Darude.

"You've gotta be kidding me Mike, again!?" Luke sounds exasperated.

"It's my song mate, back off!"A few more selections and the arrows start appearing on screen, slower at first an increasingly with the beat of the song.

"Mate? Are you British?"Luke and Michael gasp while feigning heart break.

"Aussie through and through." Both boys nod and give each other a high five.

"Got it. I won't mess it up again I promise."It was getting harder to keep up with the flashing on screen but I was still doing better than Mike. Poor kid can't seem to get his lefts and rights straightened out. None of Michaels steps seem to be registering on the machine and it leads all three of us to fall in fits of laughter throughout the game. Michael falls short by about 370 points and huffs his way off the stand.

"Remind me not to play this again" he says. Stealing a slice of cold pizza from the long table that was set up for all of us tonight. 

"Aw don't worry mate, we'll practice when no one else is here to laugh at you" Luke claps Michael on the back and his very blue eyes throw a wink over at me.

"Kenzie?" He asks.

"Yeah?"

"How's some hot pizza sound?"

"Sounds perfect." 

"Sure, after I eat this piece of cold pizza you suggest hot pizza. You suck Hemmings." Michael harrumphs.

"Well you're stuck with me for the year Clifford, get used to it."