The Green Garage is split into two sections: a main indoor hall and then an outdoor area where the EDM Night’s going to be, with a main crowd space on ground level and lots of balcony room around the perimeter. We’re one of the first ones here. Only a few others—the hardcore ravers showing off arms covered in kandi—are out here with us, forming small cliques close to the stage.
“Where should we stand?” I ask after waiting for Benny to get out of the bathroom.
He looks around, spinning his entire body as he takes in the venue while I, as inconspicuously as possible, look at all three hundred and sixty degrees of him in the shorts and harness. It’s not even that hot outside yet but I might end up sweating off all my paint before the show starts.
His finger points toward the front. Wanting to get up as close as possible so he can feel every bulb of light and the full power of the speakers.
“Okay,” I tell him. “You lead.”
Benny nods and starts walking forward, throwing an arm back, his right hand opening and closing. I take it, and he adjusts so his fingers go in between mine, holding on tightly, as if I might lose him in this not yet existent crowd. Not letting go until we’re standing against silver railings that keep everyone from storming the stage.
I watch him as he looks at the techs setting up the last of the equipment. He loosely shakes his right hand at me. Wow. “This is really cool,” he continues before unzipping his fanny pack and pulling out his phone. “Selfie.”
“Yeah. For sure.”
Benny holds onto the phone as I stand close behind him, tilting my head a little to press against the side of his. “Wait. Squishy face.”
“Really?” The word comes out vocally as I sign.
“Yes,” he replies, making his face look as stern but pleading as possible.
I sigh as I sign OK and close my eyes. Smiling, but keeping my mouth also closed and I feel my cheeks press up and facial muscles strain. I don’t know why he likes doing this face so much. There’s no way I ever come out looking cute in this pose.
“Good?”
“Yeah. Really good,” Benny replies. “Do you want a Red Bull?”
I hold up my fist, thinking about whether I should say yes or stick to water, because I know that it’s going to get hot surrounded by bodies in the Texas summer evening. But—fuck it. I shake my fist up and down at him.
“Be right back,” he signs before turning around and heading even higher up toward the small bar on the highest balcony level.
I lean on the railing, watching the stage lights come on as CHVRCHES “Graffiti” starts playing. Building a vibe while they finish prepping.
“You two are so cute together,” this lady says in almost a yell, touching my arm. She’s covered in tie-dye and neon and her breath smells like vodka.
“I—oh, we’re not—” I don’t get to finish before her friends are pulling her away, apologizing for her behavior.
“I wish we were,” I whisper while they walk away.
…
I should just tell him. Right now. Be honest with how I feel and ask him if he feels the same way too. Why the Hell not?
“What’s wrong?” Benny asks, walking up to me, holding out my can of Red Bull.
“I—” my pointer finger touches the middle of my chest, but nothing else forms. Because what if he doesn’t feel the same way and we’re now in a super awkward position, crowded by hundreds of people, pretending to have fun and we can never hang out again because he doesn’t want to give me the wrong idea?
Fuck. I can’t do it.
“Never mind.”
Benny tilts his head. His eyes are trying to read mine. A smirk forms at the corner of his mouth and he hits my arm with his elbow. “OK,” he motions, and somehow, in just the way his fingers move, I can tell he doesn’t fully believe me.
The DJ comes out just as the sun sets, bright neon lights and strobes engulfing the stage as everyone starts screaming. She points her finger in the air and the lights all go out at once, covering her in darkness. The entire place goes quiet, like we’re all holding our breath.
And then “Nothing Else (When I Think of You)” starts playing, the lights go wild, and everyone starts moving. Benny and I jump up and down along with the beat that hits our bodies like it’s erupting from us rather than coming from the stage. As if the DJ is playing the music, but we’re making it come alive.
We don’t stop when “Beat of Your Heart” comes on, and still going strong during “Together.” Then the Throttle remix of “My, My, My” comes on—Benny’s favorite—and he starts mouthing the words as Troye Sivan’s face displays on the large screen at the back of the stage before going into a shuffle when the beat drops.
I can’t help but watch him. Scream for him, hoping that he might feel a little of that in his skin over the music. Smiling back at him when he looks up at me.
And there’s that chest pressure. That invisible hug. I should just tell him.
But I get distracted when the entire place goes dark again. And for a moment all there is of us is our glowing body paint before, in a blink, the stage is filled with white light and Dua Lipa on the screen. “Electricity” begins, and Benny’s mouth goes wide as an inaudible, ecstatic breath escapes him. He grabs his phone and beings furiously tapping his thumbs against the screen.
His hand comes up to my chest when I walk closer, wondering what he’s up to and why he’s ignoring Dua. He doesn’t even look at me, still only paying attention to the phone screen. All of his fingers except for the pointer go down. Asking for me to hold on a second.
And then Benny’s looking at me. Phone still in his hand, screen held up to his chin. He sucks in his lips again while trying to smile. Almost like he’s holding in a laugh. Then back to the phone and I see his right thumb hit the screen.
Almost immediately, there’s a vibration against my hip where my phone’s lodged in between skin and shorts. Benny tagged me in an Instagram post. All I can see without unlocking it is I got tired of waiting for @hiImRaul to ask. So, I’ll give you electricity. If you let me.
I stare at him. As if I’m waiting for permission to see what this is.
He holds his hands out, motioning them up in this frantic, universally known way of saying what are you waiting for? hurry the fuck up!
I unlock my phone, tap on the Instagram icon, and go to the photo.
The picture we took earlier. There’s my ugly scrunchy face. Still hate it.
But—wait.
Benny isn’t making the same face. His eyes are opened, observing me. His tongue is poked out a little bit near my cheek. And his left hand is up to his face. B MY BF PLS? written on his palm.
How did I never notice that? When did he have time to—the bathroom. Yep. There’s the marker in his fanny pack. But—
Hold up. Oh my god.
When I look up from the phone, there he is, palm up. Words still there. His other hand held out for me.
I start walking closer to him while Dua Lipa sings about feeling electric and wanting to let someone know that she thinks she’s ready. She’s ready now.
I’m ready now.
I picture all those moments where I missed the signs because I was too in my own head to recognize them. All of the times where, maybe, he was just as trepidatious about saying how he felt as I was. Every minute we both knew we were meant for each other and were so overly cautious we swallowed it back down, feeling it scratch against our throats like we were attempting to eat a rock.
And when I get so close our feet hit, I stop. Grab his hand that is shaking either from the nerves or the vibrations of the bass or both. Or maybe it’s me that’s shaking. And I take all of him in as I nod. Nod with my teeth biting on my bottom lip and my eyes trying to hold in tears and radiating this energy of happiness and ecstasy.
His scribbled-on hand comes up to my face and I feel his thumb grazing my cheek. I let him take away the rest of the space between us, bringing my face to his. His other hand unclasping and going up behind my head while mine hold onto his sides.
He’s sweaty. We’re both sweaty. But that little bit of saltiness in our kiss isn’t going to stop me. I don’t have time to think about our paint getting ruined with our bodies pressed together, or how gross my hair might be, or my opinion on the moisture on Benny’s skin that I might actually be a little into?
Because this moment transcends it all. The two of us existing here with each other physically—the music’s beat that flows from head to toe, the lights that cover our body in blinding shades of white and yellow and pink, and the people crowding us a reminder of that—but also in this celestial nirvana of a reality. One where our bodies have transformed into stars and float up, creating a constellation in an electric sky that two people might look up at and feel fulfillment and belonging and joy.
Benny leaves my lips and backs away just enough for me to see a new sign. An R up to his chest, like a rendition of the word mine. His new name for me.
I hold my right pointer finger up at eye level and move my elbow so I’m making large circles. He lets out a breathy laugh from the biggest and brightest smile I’ve ever seen on him before coming back for another kiss. Pushing me back a little bit in his eagerness, but I’m not complaining. I could do this all night. Tomorrow. All of next week and next month and next year.
Always.
Comments (5)
See all