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Dream, young one, dream. For in the face of adversity and war, dreams will be your only haven, your last remaining source of hope and peace.
Noise bombarded me from all sides; I could scarcely hear myself think, let alone what anyone else was saying. Heat rolled off the writhing bodies in waves, and it was starting to get to me. The smell of booze was heavy in the air, laced with an underlying stench of sweat. Lights flashed in time to the pounding bass, strobe and neon alike. Clothes and hair glowed bright from the randomly-placed black lights.
The bass reverberated through my body as I slowly made my way to the French doors on the other side of the room. Music spilled out into the night, intruding upon the quiet calm I sought. Closing the doors behind me, I walked silently to a porch chair. I took a seat and closed my eyes, tilting my head back and drinking in the cool night air. The silence was again interrupted by the loud music of the party, presumably someone heading outside for a smoke or something of the sort. Quiet descended once again and I turned around to politely ask the person to be an idiot somewhere else. So I was surprised to find a boy, about my age (give or take a year), with his eyes closed and his face turned toward the sky. The moonlight illuminated him in profile; thin face, high cheekbones, an average nose. His skin seemed almost the color of porcelain, though it was slightly flushed from the party. I studied him a moment longer before softly clearing my throat. Immediately, his eyes shot open, his head snapping down to look at me.
"Sorry. I didn't know someone was out here. I can find another place, if you like."
His voice was smooth, but his words rang true. There was no hidden innuendo in his diction. He was the first person I had met that night that wasn't trying to get in my pants.
"No, no; you're fine. Just unexpected, that's all," I replied, relieved I hadn't stumbled over my words.
He stared at me a moment before saying, "Do you mind?" and indicating the chair next to me, to which I replied, "Not at all," and closed my eyes again.
"So what's a pretty girl like you doing all alone?"
His voice, unexpected, broke the silence and I opened my eyes, blinking quite stupidly at him.
"Pardon?" I responded.
"Why come to a party if you're just going to sit outside, alone?"
"Oh. Just trying to take it all in, I suppose."
"You look a little overwhelmed."
"This isn't my usual scene," I conceded.
"Then why are you here?" he asked. It wasn't mean or accusatory, his question; merely curious. I felt a new sense of respect for him.
"I wanted to see what I was missing out on."