Beyond Infinity || Book One (Editing)

Beyond Infinity (book one).

dear lovely readers:

all names and song titles are property of mannreall band. all mannreall band character actions and words are from the author's imagination. none of them have actually done the events you are about to read. i do not own mannreall band.

take every risk, drop every fear

A L L Y

I grabbed a drink, checking twice to make sure it wasn't beer. I was bad, but not this bad; most of the time, I was being dragged into shit that Wynter did. I stepped toward her, feeling awkward. She knelt in front of a guy and her light blonde hair spilled over her tiny waist. We didn't know anyone at this prom. Didn't go to high school here, didn't even live here. It was really backpacking carelessly through Europe that brought us here.

Under the ultraviolet lights, Wynter was grinding her hips onto somebody else. I cheered my friend on and started a file of people behind me doing so as well. They all shouted words of praise, but I couldn't decipher what language they were speaking. My silhouette bobbed on the walls, and lights the colors of Pinot Noir and wisteria radiated like something alive. It was humid and sweaty. Two girls made out behind me in a corner. Some chick was sitting in an attractive man's lap toward the front. Whatever school this was, it had an awful management staff.

No one in St. Petersburg knew us. That thought was intimidating and I felt morbidly unwelcome and foreign, like an alien to Earth. We didn't know this eccentric place. Had never been here until we boarded the plane, just to get away. Wynter lived in the lovely city of Perth, Australia, but was born in Tokyo, and no; she wasn't Japanese, she was pure Australian. Her mother had been from Japan, though, but her father hadn't.

I was from Santa Monica. Wynter and I met in Perth, a city I had visited and wanted to reside in, but couldn't unless I was on a visa (and I didn't want to work). We've known each other for years now.

I cocked my head to see eyes of radiance, gentle delicacy and pleasure, content with Wynter's performance. No one looked my way. I proceeded toward the bleachers, pulling out my phone and reading a book on it. I buried my face in it.

Feigning mock exasperation, Wynter stepped out from the center and gazed deeply into my eyes, conteplating something. She beckoned me onto the floor. I said no. She didn't give up.

"Ally Marie Torres!" she shouted. "Get down here if you wanna have some fun!"

She persisted that I dance with her some more, and being the usual loose person I was, I turned my phone off, slipping it into my purse again and joined Wynter. I wasn't happy about the eyes watching us, nor the length of my dress which Wynter had chosen. Any shorter, and it would reveal everything.

I exhaled peacefully and swung my arms. Then I positioned my feet. I was completely engulfed in the music, craning my neck backwards and dancing only with slight actions, trying not to be flamboyant like her.

"Idiot. This isn't bad at all," she whispered in a jocular manner. I nodded, and she said, "Go on, show them some moves."

And that moment was when I learned a life lesson.

To live, you have to let go and breathe.

The air of freedom.

The air of love.

But to live, you must desire to.

So take every risk. Drop every fear.

W Y N T E R