The fireworks at the rave had almost as many sparks as the kiss we shared in the pit. I don’t know how luck brought us together. It did help you lost yourself in the music dancing and crashed into me pretty hard, obviously still feeling the magic of your party favors. I was cool about it, you thought I was cool for it, and noticed how big my shoulders were after I lifted you up to your feet, eyes trailing of to them while I was asking if you were okay, complimenting your Kandi, and asking if you wanted a ride on my shoulders to see the DJ over the crowd. It might have been the effects of whatever was coursing through your veins, but your crotch felt super warm and sweatier than the rest of you on my neck.

The show is over. I lend you my jacket for the walk back to the campsites. I mention having some vitamin kits in my converted sprinter van for post-party hangovers and you press to tag along. The cold wind on the way chills your exposed legs, dawning only garters and fishnet net tights with your leg warmers, but my jacket feels so warm, just like my shoulders did when your ass was riding on them. I close the van doors to keep out the cold and offer you some vitamins and a Gatorade, much needed after all the dancing.

The van is well-put together. A nice bed loft, a little sink, curtains for the windows. It’s super cozy. I’m still holding out the vitamins and drink for you to take.

“Hey, space cadet [your character’s name], this is ground control. You need to take your supplements so you don’t crash when you come back down from outer space. 😂”

My attire isn’t much. The muscles under my fishnet shirt are pumped from all the dancing, the sweat gives a clean, manly musk, my chaps expose the ice outline of my package in a tie-dye Speedo.

The ball is in your court. This night could go any way you want it. What’s your move?