It's one in the morning and my ribcage is cracking open from the bass hitting me straight on. Your arms are holding it together, which is good because I feel as though my heart might beat right out of my chest.

You'd never been somewhere like this. The heat, the sweat, the beer, the anger. You'd never seen anything like it.

This is where I grew up, surrounded by loud, dizzying music and fists flying through the air. Everyone here is ugly and strange and unkempt, but our bodies all melt into one single force, that swirls and jilts across the room.

And standing here in the middle of this ruckus, with you, I feel the most still I have ever felt. My feet are firmly planted to the floor and nothing can move me.

Stillness in the middle of chaos is the strangest feeling. For once I feel in control of my fate and honestly, it scares me. So I turn around and shove you into the surging mass of bodies and watch you disappear. When your fate is in your palms, sometimes the only thing you can do is throw it away.

I get knocked to the floor and a grin hatches across my face. Perfect.