Kristal||ONC 2020|| {Complete}

Chapter 1: A Grey Evening

Harold stood in between the crowd clad in his favorite pair of black leather jacket that matched with his skin-tight jeans. His long, slender and immaculate fingers gripped perfectly on the handle of the umbrella tightly to prevent the wind from sweeping his beloved dark blue umbrella away. While he immersed himself into the blasting music that sliced through the silent air, audiences began to leave the spot. The circle became crescent like a pie being devoured by an army of ants. Slowly, it turned into empty streets with a dog crossing the streets for shelter.

Droplets of water began to pour from the grey clouds in rhythm. They were tiny and slow at first but slowly developed into larger colonies, hitting his umbrella, adding the beat to the already upbeat music that now blended with the rain. Pulling the cap down to cover his face, Harold rooted in his spot and tucked his left palms into the pocket of his leather jacket tightly, drumming his fingers in half excitement. The cold harsh air was no longer his enemy. Instead, it was his comfort. He got accustomed to it because they warmed his cold beating heart.

As the singer in the music hit a high note, he studied the boy's swift movement who made a leap and landed in a split expertly. He examined those muscular legs twirled around at the beat, making splashes of water that would be a photographer's favorite shot if they don't mind swallowing contaminated water. A soft erupted in between his throat regardless of his expression. When he sprung up from the ground, throwing another skillful beat for a show, Harold's eyes rose and watched as the boy laid on the ground with satisfaction. A large smile spread across his brown skin.

"Hey, man," the boy spoke as he sat up from the ground with a wide innocent smile. "Thank you for watching my dance if you can call it a dance. You should go back. It's raining. Do you want me to give you a ride back? I live around here."

Harold spoke nothing. His lips sealed shut as if they were stitched by an unbreakable curse. Removing his warm palms from his pocket, Harold bent down, placing a few notes into the small box the performer had prepared. To him, the boy deserved more than just the streets as his stage. He should be given a chance to shine on stages and enjoy the presence of the audiences, cheering at his spectacular work.

"Thank you!" the boy beamed as he rose from the ground, clutching the box tight to his chest. "Really thanks for everything. I notice you come every day, mister. You don't have to do that if you are not free. I'm not that much of a good dancer. I am glad I could at least impress you out of the many."

A soft genuine smile cracked upon Harold's face and that was hidden beneath the black mask he had been wearing. Glancing around the street, he recalled a couple of old memories, but tossed it away and concentrated on the young boy in front of him. He shook his head at those humble words.

"No," Harold croaked, meeting the boy's curious gaze when the younger had stood up. "Thank you. Thank you for putting up such an eye-catching performance. You are an outstanding performer. Just keep it up and I'm sure one day, you will be the best dancer and fulfill your dreams. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. A dance can only be perfect when the dancer himself holds the confidence and strength throughout."

A soft chuckle escaped the boy's lips. Though the droplets of rain were pouring, they both seemed to share a similar love for the noise that would be able to hide their messed up thoughts, ragged breathing and also helped calm their rushing adrenaline in the veins. Picking up the plastic-wrapped radio, he switched it off gently, placing it in the basket of the motorcycle behind him.

"Thank you," said the young boy whose jacket had the word 'Beam' stitched in gold. "I have to go now. I need to work on something else, but thanks for the advice. I don't know how to repay your support that means a lot, but I can promise you that I will not stop dancing. I assure you."