I had been dancing alone when I felt his hand on my shoulder. Turning to look, I saw that it was someone I recognized, a familiar face, but one which I had never met before. He spoke to me anxiously but his words fell completely under the mask of the pounding music. Gesturing with his hand, he motioned for me to follow him out of the dancing crowd, which I did out of curiosity.

Where the music was less forceful, he told me his name was Dylan. He too had recognized my face among the crowd. He said he was not alone, but instead was with a friend. I followed this man, realizing nothing, expecting nothing. Lead into a corner, I saw nothing. But there, standing in the dark was his friend, another familiar face, but one that I had met about a year before. At that time a year ago I had thought nothing of him, since he had showed no signs of interest in me. Now here he was, waiting for me in the confines of the darkness.

John was his name. I had not forgotten it since our first encounter a year ago, despite never seeing him since.

They asked if I wanted to leave with them, to go back to the place of a friend who had left them his keys for the week. So I left with them both, anticipating nothing.

Out on the street, we waited while Dylan signalled for a taxi for us. With the cold winter air hovering around my skin my mind wandered far from thoughts of heat and flesh. Instead, I thought of the winter, the snow, the ice. I was not myself this night, allowing subtle glances and words to go freely without notice.

Our ride was short. A few dark minutes with these two men in the back of a taxi smiling at nervous jokes, staring at half-lit faces, our legs pressed tightly to one another's.

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