Miss Vogue

The entire bar vibrated from the booming power if the sound system—bottles rocked on the shelves, filled drink glasses shivered on the bar counter, liquids shook in their still glasses. Whenever this place got loud everything moved, whether it wanted to or not. And I was no exclusion from that rule.

The vibrations hit my body, the air around me pounding as if I was actually inside of the speaker. My arms tinged with pulses from the blaring music, while my legs relaxed in the shaking atmosphere. However, I couldn’t control myself from the club-like environment. As the beasts were flowing out fast and hard, my hips moved on their own, swaying smoothly, even on a crowded dance floor. People were constantly coming into the bar, either wanting to get in on the sweaty fun going down, or brought in by the mesmerizing mixing from the live, on-site DJ. The dance floor slowly grew smaller and smaller the more people wanted to try and enjoy themselves under the bright, neon spotlights. However, I wasn’t going to give my position up to anybody.

The DJ constantly played music with a strong bass rhythm in the song, as if he knew my desire to keep moving my body to the beats. My hips loved rocking from side to side, slow yet graceful, putting a bit if extra force every time I popped my hip out. Not a single person bumped into me, allowing me to go wild if I ever had such desire to let loose.

“No need,” I said, knowing my voice with be drowned out in the music. I didn’t care what was going on around me, what troubles went on. If it didn’t affect me or my movements, it was no stress to me.

I allowed myself to dive deeper into the music. As my hips moved on their own, my arms began their own exploration. Snaking around each other, my arms went high above my head, doing small, vogue-like movements. My hands started out edging my head, caressing the sharp point in my chin and resting on the plumpness of my rosy cheeks. At one moment in the middle of my dancing, I froze and stuck a pose, staring directly at the first person my eyes stopped on. Right in front of me was a slender man; he didn’t have many defining traits about him, nothing outstanding or unique about his appearance, just another common bar dweller. His gaze dropped on me, he himself doing a crawling walk towards me. When we were within an arm’s reach of each other, he extended his hand out, inviting me even closer.

My eyes did one more scan of him, looking at every detail from the top of his blonde, crew cut hairstyle down to his freshly polished black dress shoes. I brought my hand up to meet his and smacked it down. He quickly retracted his hand in surprise, giving me a strange stare. With the beat of the music pounding on my skin, I did a simple pirouette, letting my hair flow in the breeze with me, and stopped in front of him. At a closer distance, I made sure that our eyes met.

Staring directly at him, I spoke, “You’re not good enough for me.”

Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo

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