They get shoved down the stairs, into the dark belly of the club.
Kosmo takes one deep breath, before submerging into the vibrating opaque atmosphere of the noise ocean. It is coming to greet them, to swallow them, to devour them in one bite.
Suddenly he feels the air in his lungs turn to acid and leak into his bowels. “Pull yourself together,” he orders himself. Even if he is going to have a panic attack, there is no way back, with all the people following them down. Others want in, want to get their brains washed away by beats. He is pushed forward, like some middle section of a running millipede.
Benny turns his head and beams up at him. “You’ll like it. You’ll see!” Kosmo doesn’t hear a word over the laughing and the music, instead he forces a smile and nods to whatever his best friend just said. He has given up, and let Benny pick out clothes and location. And this is what happens: him, being on the edge of disgust, disappointment, and irritation. Maybe anxiety too, but he isn’t going to let anyone in on that. After five years, his first night out – alibi socializing. At least Benny will finally shut up.
They make their way to the flashing dance floor. The mass is about to go mad, heaves and breathes perfumed sweat, liquor, and smoke. The rhythm drills through limbs, hearts, and heads like a machine.
Kosmo searches for the darkest corner and starts to gravitate towards it. He needs an excuse for Benny and evaluates his possible choices. Reasons he has used the last three weeks used all of them, and his best buddy will notice. No excuses then! Maybe he manages to disappear and manifest in the furthermost corner of the room.
But Benny – with his super bullshit sensor- feels him slip away, and grabs the collar of his leather jacket. He has a sixth sense for him sneaking away. With both hands, he pushes him towards the dancing twitching crowd. The music stomps on. For some time he considers just stopping. Not making another step; due to his size, Benny won’t be able to move him, if he didn’t want to…
Kosmo’s throat dries up, and his heart tries to break out of his rib cage. It will undoubtedly try to crawl away…
He wants to crawl away so badly, hide somewhere, in the fuzziness of the club. The next best thing is the fuzziness of a drink. Yes. He sets his mind to it. Go get a drink! He tells Benny. He mimics it, plays it out for him. Drink. Benny’s hands detach from his spine, and he is free. Free.
His best friend laughs and waves a little goodbye. Kosmo points at him making a questioning face. Benny shakes his head before disappearing between the rhythmically moving limbs.