THE SECRETS WE KEEP.

- HE'S A DANCING FOOL.

hey everybody, sorry this is late but i wanted to make sure it was completely perfect before i posted it! this chapter is really special to me and probably will be to most of you, the one you have been waiting for for some time :). i hope you enjoy, please let me know your thoughts on this!

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JOES POV:
A slow and tiresome drive later, with the pound sign figure on the rectangular screen rising with each mile, the journey from the modern bustle of London up to the seaside tranquility of Blackpool had been complete. The turtles pace travels may have formulated this into a painful experience for some, however the luxuriated manner at which this driver endorsed permitted an extra second of time for the sightings to register. The introductory sight into Blackpool was the seafront, a typical Summers day destination for families of young children savouring each drop of sunlight from the heavens yet the dewy atmosphere and early hour of a weekday transformed this desirable attraction into a deserted island, populated by lonely figurines exploring the city. Observing their attitudes, these strangers seem akin to myself in many ways. While my life consists of a social media following, visiting these waterside locations is a limited scope of freedom from a hate comments gloom to absorb oneself into the differing glimpses than my usual window shot - the squawking shrills of soaring seagulls, the frequent crash of forceful waves destroyed by the power of stone, old-fashioned sweet shops arising their striped banners fully stocked with the classics set for another days work on the pier. Our secondary viewing was of the famous Blackpool Tower Ballroom, a unique moment at which a sickening crunch of my jaw dropping to the floor was audible to all in ear-shot from the complete captivation this skyscraper building had planted upon me. This setting had been the central point to countless amounts of Nan's stories, a home to her beautiful dancing memories that are adored so dearly in the depths of her heart. It's an honour in itself just to pass this significant location, but within hours a chance to burst through those doors, invading a world of importance, generating my own reminiscence to rehearse off to my grandchildren, is cherishable.

"It looks like we're here..", a grave grunt from the front seat proclaiming our arrival perturbed my emotionally valued perspective on the tower, the tugging smirk at his lips in the rear view mirror flared my cheeks a rich carmine shade. "Over there son..", my eyes followed in the direction of his pointed finger from one window to glance out the other, the gap separating my lips widening at our left turn-in into the parking of this extravagant hotel right ahead. It's control spread wide across it's plot, while ascending into the mist of clouds, all columns identical in appearance with equally spaced black square windows alike a cartoon series. Cars of various models were scattered all across the arena, proving the fact of its popularity at full capacity. Tombstone ashy steps conducted a pathway inside, a modern approach adopted by constructors through the glass revolving door. Each triangular section was overflowing with overnighters, a variety of characters imaginable passing through every second - men and women of the business sector adorning their formal suit and tie attire to backpack travellers in admiration of the sheer excellence one building could hold. As the building became less of a blurry attraction but rather a reality, questions flooded through my head over the truth of this address; whether it all just an elaborate prank produced by the cast, an attempt of 'pranking the prankster'. I understand that the money for this was not taken from my own personal pocket, however there was that pondering question over the extensive pricing.

I scrambled at my feet for the bags handles, mumbling my gratitude at his willingness to venture out on a four hour journey before slipping out through door from the enclosed environment, that first inhale of breath tingling my senses like the initial whiff of an ocean. Within an instant of my exit, the car sped off in the opposite direction aiming to comb the inner workings of the city for a petrol station in enough time before an engine breakdown inconviences their day. Peering out towards the sea view, it provided serene safeness that in personal experience the centre of London lacked. It's constant press for modern customs had converted it to a city pure for business purposes rather than home, whereas these peaceful seconds immune to beeping horns and barking dogs recalled the town at which I was raised - a quaint village, low in population, but the ideal locality for a weekend free of all daily life disturbances and troubles. However, alike the famous saying, these glorious moment must meet their swift ending, abrupted much before their time by a South African accent calling from behind me. "Joe!", my heart elated at this familiar voice, a friendly face would be at the other side of the road awaiting my arrival. I heaved the hefty luggage across the short distance over to Johannes - outstaging us all as per usual, with his black turtle neck tucked into patterned beige trousers, accompanied by a cap upon his head - whos hand was high in the air like an air traffic warden, directing myself towards the entrance way.