The Great Unveil

Angie wants to step out of the shadows, to be liberated, to be acknowledged. But will she find acceptance? Or will she be ostracized?

      

Angie had a drink in her hand and her bottom lip between her teeth. Her arms were crossed and she had her back against the wall. The room was filled with smoke and lights and people dancing and music and shouted conversations. There was no shortage of lasers but very little light by which to see, and a few empty bottles had left Angie’s tongue almost numb and her tastebuds useless. The corner of her mouth was twisted into a wicked smile and she was full of a mysterious difference to her usual self. It was hot and she was dry and somehow it gave her strength. It gave her vision. Every so often one of the lasers would hurl its green intensity upon her face and for the briefest of moments her eyes were bright and clear. The pupils were dilated to the utmost extreme and didn’t even flinch as the light penetrated them, burning the retina beneath. But only briefly.

                A stranger skipped past Angie in intoxicated bliss, the frozen green bottle in his hand straying into her personal space. Almost as if aware of its approach, the hairs on her arm bent outwards to greet it. Although contact with the bottle was not made, a single drop of icy water slammed into her skin. She felt its impact ripple through her whole body, catching like an ember and setting her alight. She closed her eyes and ran a hand over the spot but she couldn’t alleviate the burning chill that shot through her bloodstream. It overtook her completely, refreshing every inch of her nerves. When she opened her eyes again she found that she had been looking through a haze, a cloud of ignorant advice and misguided fear. She had not been looking at the world the way she was always meant to, she had been looking through everyone’s eyes except her own. Somehow she had instantly become the most important person in the room, and everyone was yet to realize it.

                “Why not me?” came the fearless question, “Why not? Says who? Who can say no to me?”

                She peeled her sweating skin from the wall and marched purposefully across the dance floor. She had her head up and her eyes set on her target, and she marvelled at how readily the dancers stepped aside. She had never had such an easy passage through a crowd before, and now she controlled the room. In one gulp she downed her drink and smashed the glass on the floor. Someone saw her coming because all of a sudden half a dozen heads snapped up in her direction. Silence befell the small group as they watched Angie approach, and with every step she took her smile grew. This was her moment and she was going to take it.

                It was nothing new for her to be face to face with Julianne, but it was time to share the truth. Angie’s truth.

                “Hey, Julianne,” she said, and without breaking stride she snatched the girls head and dove in, lips first.

                It was magic again. It was a spell practiced and prepared over a hundred years, freezing time itself and releasing gravity. They were climbing the beams of the frozen lasers and sprawling on the clouds of smoke above everyone else, transcending. It was the powerful, sensational, great unveil. It was secret bliss exposed. Fearless transformation. Freedom.

                 The moment passed and sense returned, carrying with it an overwhelming exposure that washed away Angie’s bravery. She fell instantly at Julianne’s mercy.

The scene retreated to the peripheral and left the two of them alone in a wasteland. Angie could neither see nor hear the crowd of onlookers cheering and swearing just a metre away. For all it mattered to her they didn’t exist. Not yet. As Julianne’s lips parted to reveal the words growing within, Angie’s arms went numb and her ears began to burn.

                “The f**k, Angie?” she muttered, wiping her mouth on her hand. “Gay-a*s piece of s**t.”

                Gravity sided with Julianne and the swarming crowd came flooding back against Angie, thundering into her skull as if they had fallen from the stars themselves. Words were in her ears but they belonged to no voices, and emanated from not one but a thousand throats. Then the sound of clapping, loud and proud, reached her ears and all the words became the same. They were chanting.

                “Make out. Make out. Make out,” came the call, growing in volume and intensity until the look of shock and outrage on Julianne’s face twisted into a wry smile. She shifted her weight to the other foot and threw a suggestive glance around the room. Angie’s heart hammered in her chest, drumming a powerful, bloody beat on her ribs. Sweat was pooling on the skin above her eyebrows and she trembled like a dog in the rain. All she wanted was recognition, acceptance, honesty outside her bedroom and another shot at those dark, twitching lips.

Julianne was moving, but not towards her. She slunk to the left, keeping her face to Angie for the first step. On the second step she swivelled her hips almost completely away, slipping her little finger between her teeth to increased applause. As she continued her circle the crowd grew in volume and numbers, hemming them in on all sides. Angie stood still, her breathing short and shallow as she clenched her fists by her sides. Julianne disappeared behind her and she closed her eyes, following her with her ears and the inevitable shudder creeping along her shoulders.

“Please, please, please,” she found herself muttering as panic began to rise. Her knees were working back and forth and when she opened her eyes to find an exit she was shocked to be staring into Julianne’s eyes. Bright, luminescent blue orbs held together by a silver-grey spider web. Her head was angled such that while she was very close, her mouth seemed impossibly far away and her hair hung forward, contrasting her pale skin to perfection.

“Are you coming out?” she whispered through a side-ways smile.

Angie slowly raised her head and eyed the masses. She recognised many of the chanting faces but she found no sanctuary in them.

 “Hey, hey,” Julianne said, pulling Angie face back in line with her own by placing a gentle hand on her cheek. “Look at you, all confident and s**t. It's kinda hot."

Angie glanced from one sparkling eye to the next as they drew nearer, and then found her concentration solely on Julianne’s black lips. Their open mouths hovered an inch apart, for a moment sharing the same breath before tenderly meeting. The room erupted as their lips locked, and Angie once again felt the upwards pull of ecstasy. Her legs lifted out behind her and together they floated away from the raging inferno and left it far below, shifting their shapes until they found one that fit them both perfectly.

They broke. Julianne backed away, flicking her eyebrows at Angie over a wicked smile before standing tall and bowing to the crowd. Still holding hands, she raised her arms to the roof and shouted “I’m so f*****g wasted!”

The crowd surged forward and engulfed them, tearing their hands apart and carrying them both away in the tide. Suddenly all Angie could smell was sweat and vodka, and Julianne was nowhere to be seen. She called her name but people kept crowding in on her, pushing against her, trapping her on the dance floor. The air was growing thicker by the second and she was being crushed beneath it’s weight. Like an explosion she burst free, almost falling forward as she was launched from the pack. Her hair was wet and stuck to her shoulders, and as she pulled it back behind her head she caught sight of Julianne.

She was with a tall man in a tight shirt, her hand in the centre of his chest. She pushed him backwards until he ran out of space and fell onto a couch. Then she leaped up on top of him and, taking his head in her hands, kissed him.

Angie was falling. She was falling forwards towards the two, and no matter how hard she fought she couldn’t stop her descent. She stumbled over an abandoned bottle and fell sideways into Julianne.

“Oh, hell yeah,” the big man laughed, “We gonna get freaky!”

Angie steadied herself, took her bearings, and slapped Julianne across the face. Then she turned and ran towards the exit, her insides surging upwards. In Julianne’s voice she heard the word ‘Dyke’, but she never once looked back. Her head was swimming and she was weaving left and right as she went. 

The doors exploded outward at the impact of her cannonball body, and as they drifted back together so faded the sounds of the party. Only the rhythmic pounding of a powerful base kick could be felt, vibrating up through her feet. The sudden chill of the outside air surrounded her and dragged her down, soaking through her saturated skin and drowning her in isolation. She let out one single, winding yelp and then departed, seeking shelter from the electric storm behind her watery eyes. 

Author's Note

Tell me your qualms. I can take it.

Reviews

[Joseph Clohessy]

Great story. It really reminded me of younger days, experimenting at raves and parties,the experience of chemically enhanced confidence, the false bravado. Oh dear, you've made me nostalgic now.

I have no critique to offer concerning the story, the only things I would change are personal style choices so not relevant, the story draws you in and holds you. The way you describe the altered perception of Angie is so right on, I've had experiences like that that were so similar, she could have been on the same drugs. (God I hope she's on something in the story, I'll look like an idiot otherwise)
Excellent work.

I would maybe change the title, it could be a bit confusing at the moment. But I will say again, excellent work. ;)

[Spoon]

Thank you for your very kind words, Joseph! I fully intend to return the favor when I can find time.

I would like to hear your thoughts about the style, as I am still (eternally) developing mine. If you thought something crunched a little too much I'd like to hear it. I just re-read it myself and noticed a few things that didn't quite work.

As for the title, I realize that it doesn't really say what I want it to say. I spent about half an hour re-arranging the words and grammar trying to find a good way to say what I wanted but, sadly, I've failed. Consider it a working title.

Thanks again! Glad I could take you on a 'trip' down memory lane. (sorry for the pun)