When the music stops we’re mid-twerk—legs bent, hands on knees, booties popping out—our faux leather jeggings and hip-hugging denim flares gaining purchase above the low-lying fog that buries our three-inch stilettos in clouds, red and purple glinting off our sequined halter tops from twirling disco balls overhead moments before the strobe lights die out. A collective groan fills the room and waves of unrest ripple through us like a fissure, ready to burst from the weight of Monday lurking near, hour-long commutes to windowless offices with tired coffee and furious keyboards, chins in upturned palms dreaming away the fury of midday meetings and perpetual paper jams. Chug, chug. Knees knock our knees. Elbows bump our backs. Sweaty, hot hands grope at our breasts. All around: ow, watch it, seriously? Then, thunder cracks and the room falls silent. Seconds drift by with the funk of body odor. Through the propped-open front door a gust of wind howls in and clusters of tacked-on fliers flail in the breeze like white flags. But we don’t want to leave, not yet, not even as other partygoers jostle past, drinks held low, heads held lower, all rushing left, right, left again, velcroing on the dance floor sticky with spilled liquor as we wait for a sign, anything, when a fleck of light appears, a beacon of hope we cling to like a buoy. Here and there, more come to life. An ocean of stars in the depth of night. We free our cell phones from clutch bags and pant pockets, lacy thong waistbands and sheer floral underwire bras. We awaken our flashlights and silhouetted heads materialize, features cut from ice that soften with the tilt of a chin, the whip of a ponytail. From someone’s device comes a familiar high-pitched disco beat. To each other we turn, mojito tipsy, and bob our heads as the Bee Gees tell us it’s alright and it’s okay. So we point to the sky then down to the ground, across our bodies and repeat. Up and down we keep moving and moving, afraid of what’ll happen if we stop.
Hear Jennifer Lai read her piece.
Jennifer Lai’s work has appeared in BULL, Roi Fainéant, Maudlin House, Brilliant Flash Fiction, and elsewhere. Originally from Hawai’i, she now lives in the Pacific Northwest.