Just Haven't Met You Yet

Chapter 1: Dancing Chickens & Dares

October, 2010

I could feel my pulse pounding inside my head, the ear piercing screeches of the crowd over powering the blasting music. The vibe passing through each person like a shot of electricity and in one fluid movement, the last step of the night was completed, and the crowd leaped up to applaud the staggering performance given tonight.

My smile grew past my rosy cheeks that were flashing different shades of red, as the thick heat suffocating the atmosphere hit me; I revealed my teeth as I threw my hands up in the air in perfect synch with the other dancers who stood alongside me.

A few seconds flew by, and I felt someone brush their sweaty fingertips on my shoulder, I glanced over to Rita, her finishing facial expression not escaping, her fiery hair fell helplessly as she motioned me to dash off stage.

“Oi, Peazer, our que, get off stage” she reminded me underneath her breath through a gritted smile. I quickly responded by nodding, trying to not make it noticeable and as Dermont strolled on stage, I followed along as the dancers quickly hurried off through the side.

“Oh my god guys! That was great!” Damon yelped at the top of his lungs causing a vein to protrude in his forehead as he punched the air as soon as we were backstage, the dancers huddled up in one big mob as we made our way back to our dressing room, trying to dodge the quickening backstage crew, hurrying about back and forth, the ecstatic vibe still overwhelming each and every one of us.

I chuckled, showing my amusement in the moment as he clung on to my arm, listening to him ramble on. “I cannot believe we just danced with Wagner.” Damon’s eyes popped open, and his cheesy grin deepened.

“Babe, calm down.” I giggled as I playfully hit him on his shoulder.

“How can I?! Wagner, is so fucking sexy.” Damon proudly admitted, laughter loudly boomed out of me, until Rita abruptly swung her arm over his shoulder, causing him to girlishly scream, he turned around to face her and instantly put his hand over his heart.

“Can you scream any louder Damon?” she snorted as her arm fell back to her side and began to stroll along with us.

“Thank god it’s just you, I thought you were gonna steal my £250 earring.” Damon puffed out, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Oh rub it in Damon.” She sniggered sardonically; Damon girlishly flipped his hair back followed by the camp hand gesture. Typical Damon, I’ve known him for so long, and he’s still full of surprises. He's is my sanctuary, the only person I can speak to about my ups and downs, joke around with, and almost definitely the only man I can sit in a bath with face masks slathered on and have girly chats with.

“What can I say? I’m fabulous.” he tittered girlishly, and Rita and I both followed along, as we pushed the door open, leading to the dancers dressing room, the smell of dense sweat and a rush of cold air battered me, and the rest of the dancers rushed in behind us, attempting to get the best spots to change, and a sudden boom of chatter of people filled the air.

“Own it.” I chortled as I pointed at him, he was quick to respond “Oh bitch, I do.” We both doubled in hysterics as I sluggishly ambled over to the towel rack and picked up two of them, and chucked one over to Damon.

Rita was interrupted by one of the other dancers Ana and Frankie, who pulled her in to another group of people, who dragged her in the painful agonising thing we call small talk.

“Heads up” I was late to speak, until the towel smacked Damon right around the chops. “Sorry” I stuttered as I tried to escape my smirk.

“Danielle.” Damon said as his eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips.