HEDOSCHISM: WATTY AWARD WINNER

2 // END

There was a momentary break in the maddening beat.

A brief, but beautiful few seconds of silence filled me with a buzzing elation, as the warmth crept into my stomach, almost like butterflies, their wings tickling as they fluttered, spinning and eddying. I relished the sensation as it spread outwards, igniting my body and quickly filling every part of me, each vein, each muscle, from my toes right to the very tips of my fingers. As I held my arms aloft, I was sure I could see it, this energy, this blissful heat, crackling like lightning under my skin.

Wait for it, wait for it...

And then it came. That one moment everyone had been waiting for.

The bass-line resounded like a momentous clap of thunder, vibrating through the walls and floor, a live current that surged through my feet, forcing my legs to move. I cried out in sheer joy, my voice joining with the chorus of the crowd as we pounded the dance floor, basking in the rush that enveloped us all.

The lights flashed overhead, sometimes enough to stun and dazzle, but not enough to stop the tide of people as we moved almost as one, packed tightly together, feeding off each other's energy. Some of their faces I knew, some I didn't. Not that it mattered. We were one. We were an entity, a constantly shifting, moving force. We were connected, by the music, by the buzz, by the euphoria.

Damn, everything felt so fucking euphoric.

The sweat glistened on my skin and sparkled under the lights and as I danced, I thought - no, screw that, I knew - that it would never get any better than this; that right now, this was it. This was everything. I would never feel as alive as I did right then. I would never feel so in touch with everyone and everything. I couldn't help but laugh, and I didn't care that I probably looked insane, dancing as if my life depended on it and smiling giddily as I moved to the music.

Whipping my body around in time to the beat, I scanned the old warehouse building, once deserted and left to rot, now filled to the rafters with moving bodies and pumping bass and my gaze naturally gravitated towards Davey - my Davey - elevated behind the decks, headphones held against one ear, his dirty-blonde hair tied back in a messy bun and loose tendrils curling down the side of his face. Every time I watched him up there, stirring the crowd into a frenzy, I was always knocked out by the sight of him, just as I had been the very first time we'd met. He was so in control, so in command. It gave me a wicked thrill just to watch him, this voyeur-ish heat that set every nerve ending on fire. When his eyes met mine - as they invariably did, always searching me out in the throng - he shot me a sexy grin, one that sent a shiver of excitement rippling up my spine and stirred something inside me that felt feral and wanton, something that wanted him so badly; hungered for him, for this, for everything.

The tune was coming to an end, ready to fade into the next song and the revellers raised their arms in the air, spinning them round to demand the rewind and Davey, ever the crowd-pleaser - and damn, did he know how to please - did just that, and was greeted with a rousing roar of approval and more stomping feet. There was so many people, too many maybe, everyone out for the ultimate party, looking to end the year with a total banger of a night, and I knew just by looking around that we'd pushed the numbers this time. Davey's guys on the door had crammed as many in as they could and then some. It was good business sense, after all. Dangerous, sure, but the more bodies that came through the door, the more gear Davey sold and the more people would come back again and again.