A Technicolor Bruise

Part one:

i'm still alone,
in my mind.
the lights are caressing the form of the room and it's contents with a heavy dosage of vibrance. People are moving crazily to the glass-shattering bass, and i'm pretty sure almost everyone in this space is fucked up. I'm definitely fucked up. My cold hands shake in my lap, my knuckles are pink and sore from battles. I can say with complete confidence that i have broken knuckles. Red leaks onto my white shirt but i don't care anymore. I cant let myself forget this, even if that calls for a blood stained shirt.
Blue
Green
Purple
faces pass
these lights are playing with my eyes and i can't seem to make sense out of it.
"stop playing games."
My head is in my hands. The faces that pass don't make sense. I don't make sense. What am i doing here? However, one face in particular drags my eyes to it like magnets. Her eyes are deep set, eyelashes delicate but bold and her nose is just the right amount of geometric and angular. It's art. Beauty. her skin is glistening with blue and it almost looks like her sweat is made of glitter.
Is she even real? She must be a figment of my imagination because this is the worst timing ever.
there's only one way to reassure me of her existence
stop
don't
i get up anyway.
her slender figure moves like the waves of the ocean rippling through the beat, dragging outsiders into the riptide. i dance beside her and she automatically notices me and my stumbling movements. I can barely walk let alone dance.
"here, move to the rhythm with me."
she must've had pity for me because she grabs my rough and broken hands and places them onto her soft hips. I feel electric. Almost as electric as this music.
"mmmmmm music"
my deep booming voice crashes through the sound and into my ears and i cringe. I announced my thoughts like a fool. She must know i'm fucked because she giggles and looks at me with her gorgeous doe eyes. She captures my attention like no other. nothing can compare to the fluid movements of this woman. I have never seen anything like it.
But she is real. Her skin, her warmth, her sweat, it's real. She smells like vanilla which just makes my mouth water even more. She touches my face with her fingers and her eyes flutter with analysis.
"you're so handsome."
"me?"
she giggles that little laugh that makes my heart flutter. "yes you." i wipe the blood away from the edge of my lip, and my eyes bounce back to her. did i just fall in love?