Olivia walked down the street with headphones on, the beat pounding in her chest like a second heartbeat. She stopped by the old gray wall—the same one she and her best friend Amelia had once covered in graffiti. She hit play on her favorite song and started shuffling—slowly at first, testing if her legs still remembered. The light blue plaid skirt fluttered with every quick step, black platform shoes thudded rhythmically against the asphalt, and the white fishnet tights shimmered in the late afternoon light. The street was almost empty—just her and the music. Suddenly her best friend Amelia stepped out from the side alley. Exactly the same light blue plaid skirts, almost identical crop tops, the same black platform shoes, the same white fishnet tights. Hair in matching high ponytails with rainbow clips, headphones on. They froze for a second. Looked at each other. Broke into wide grins, no words needed. Amelia walked over, stood right beside her and instantly locked into the same rhythm. Four legs moved in perfect sync—side step, hop, shuffle, spin. Sometimes mirroring each other, sometimes side by side, sometimes in tandem. Skirts flew, platforms banged, laughter mixed with the bass. On the final drop they both jumped high, hung in the air for a split second, then landed with a loud, joyful laugh. The music faded. They stood there panting, hands on knees. “Still the same beat in our heads,” Amelia said. Olivia just nodded and fixed her ponytail. Then they walked off down the street, shoulder to shoulder—their footsteps still sounding like a dance.
All my recordings and links to music on other portals on the website: www.Biel.Style
Comments