CHAPTER SIX: SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK.

6TH MARCH 2022 - 2:50 PM

Sure enough, if I squint my eyes, there's a blurry white square ahead that almost looks like an abandoned building. I feel Aaliyah's fingers slipping through my grasp and a single touch on my shoulder; before she runs off ahead of me. "Race you." She shouts, laughing.

Stunned, I watch as her curly wet hair swishes from side to side, her naturally red lips turning upwards to me as she runs further ahead of me. I snap out of my daze, and before I know it, my feet are kissing the ground, chasing after Aaliyah. I felt the warm air wash over me, fresh pine wafting to my nose, and the pain of my lungs burning as I ran. It felt refreshing.

I was just behind Aaliyah, so close that I could almost reach her within arm's length. And I almost caught her; until she slipped out of my reach. She turns back, grinning, sticking her tongue out. Even though my calves were aching, the blood rushing to my head making me dizzy with delirium, I never stopped to catch my breath. I push myself harder to reach her; I'm chasing after Aaliyah even though I know she's so close, even though she's already mine.

My hand meets her wrist, and we both stop. I turn her around; we're so close we can feel our heart beating hard, our breathing haggard, everything around us blurs away. I've chased Aaliyah for so long; now that I have her, it puts me at ease. I'm never going to lose her again.

"I got you," I managed to get out. I'm looking at her big brown eyes and come in disbelief when I realise that they're no longer brown. It's like her eyes have melted into golden rays, circling an eclipse. I wanted to get lost in those angel eyes of hers and never come back.

Aaliyah smirks. I suddenly can't breathe. "You mean I got you?"

I furrow my brows. That's when I realised Aaliyah was right. We were standing in front of the warehouse; I was so busy trying to catch up to Aaliyah that I completely forgot that we were supposed to check this place out. I let go of her hand and felt my jaw drop. I stare at the warehouse in front of me. But it wasn't a warehouse like Aaliyah said it was. It was a farmhouse. A gorgeous white farmhouse with a black-tiled roof. There were many, many windows around it. I heard Aaliyah chuckle beside me, then her fingers lifted my jaws, my teeth snapping shut.

But as I looked closely at those windows, I saw some of them were cracked, broken, or boarded up by wooden boards. I wonder what happened here. There were a few stairs that led to the front door. Cautiously, Aaliyah and I took them, every step creaking beneath us.

Aaliyah put her ears to the door, listening attentively to see if there were any sounds from within. After a minute or two, she got back and shook her head at me. No movement, no sound. I started to knock on the door, glancing at Aaliyah every so on. When I got no answer, I finally tried the doorknob. It's locked.

I examined the window beside it. Planks covered the window. Aaliyah picks up a discarded white plastic chair from the other side of the porch, lifting it for me, indicating to use it to get in. I roll my eyes at her. She put the chair down. I put my hand on the plank, testing how tight it's fitted in. I furrow my brows as realisation hits: the planks which covered the window were loose. Quickly taking the planks off, Aaliyah and I enter inside the farmhouse as warily as possible.

The place seemed abandoned, and yet it looked somewhat well-kept. If it weren't for the smoke stains creeping up the walls and ceilings; and growing mould at the corners of each wall, you might expect the owners to come home any moment.

The rooms were dark, and I felt Aaliyah shiver beside me in the sudden coolness. After the blinding sunshine outside, this comes as a shock. I pull her close to me, Aaliyah sinks into my touch.

As we were walking, I couldn't help but look around. The house was big enough to have at least two more floors. I wonder how many rooms there are. The walls were painted white, and the floor was wooden. It felt eerie and peaceful at the same time.

"I'm in the mood for dancing. Are you?" She says out-of-nowhere. I could tell she was teasing me by her voice. I roll my eyes. Aaliyah knows my dancing skills are terrible. She suddenly slaps my arms. "It is not terrible, you idiot. Your dancing is amazing. Get it right."

Oh, I spoke aloud. "Whatever. You're just saying that to make me feel better about myself." It feels weird to talk loudly in such a quiet place.

She scoffs. "What do you mean 'whatever'? I'm dead serious about you, Mr Choi," she says, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She moved away from me, twirling around, her curly hair flowing in the air until she was standing in the middle of what looked like a living room. The way she's looking at me makes me feel bewitched; I walk towards her. "Look. This is the perfect place for it!"

The living room is beautiful, enormous, even – bigger than my whole apartment. The ceiling stretches up into the darkness, a midsize crystal chandelier looms above us, glistening dimly in the limited shafts of light that peak through the mostly ripped white curtains that cover the boarded-up windows. There were big overturned greyish-white sofas with dustsheets carelessly draped over them. As I was walking to Aaliyah, I almost fell to the floor when I didn't see the broken lamp just at my foot. Actually, there are many broken lamps around us.

The place was either trashed by someone or something.

I noticed a mini bookshelf beside the window. Most of the books are missing; beside the bookshelf was a fireplace, and slightly above it was a painting of a couple in each other's loving embrace. It was the only thing with colour that stood out so far in the room. "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt. I recognised it by the woman's yellow dress decorated with floral patterns and circular shapes; and the way the man is cradling the woman's face, kissing her on the cheek. I remember going on a school trip with the Art Department back in my first year of high school, and this art piece was what captured my attention the most. "The Kiss" was supposedly depicting the story of Apollo and Daphne – well, that's what our tour guide said back then.

The house was quiet. We could only hear the faint sound of our breathing and the soft movements of the mice in the walls. It didn't sound gross or frightening, for some reason. It felt more comforting knowing that there was still some sort-of life roaming around here, even if it was quiet.

"There's no music," I say, turning back to her.

She gives me a cheeky grin, shrugs the duffle bag off her shoulders, and rummages through it. After a moment, she gets out a pink DAB radio. "Remember this?"

Confusion rattles over me. I take the radio off Aaliyah's hands and inspect it. There were no scratch marks, and the pink handle was still intact in one piece. It looked new and unused. "Of course, I remember," I whisper, loud enough for the two of us to hear. I gave this radio to Aaliyah on her 15th birthday. I remember we were walking after school, and Aaliyah couldn't stop staring at it at the local retro store – so I had worked with Huening Kai at this café and saved up enough money to buy it for her.

"I can't believe you still have this?" Disbelief was evident in my voice. I handed it back to her.

Aaliyah shrugs. "Of course. You gave it to me. How can I not have this?" She fiddles around with the dial, not looking up at me as she speaks. Then she finally found the right station after three, four times. A song starts to play.

I chuckle at the song that comes on; the first time I heard "I Love How You Love Me" by The Paris Sisters was at my aunt's wedding three years ago. I asked Aaliyah for the first dance. I was sick of love songs; they were unrealistic, slow and heartbreaking. But for some reason, that song just felt right to me. It became our favourite song shortly after.

I started to feel for the beat and the rhythm and stared at Aaliyah in her eyes. There's something about the glimmer in those eyes that gave me a confidence boost. Letting my instincts take over, I drew Aaliyah towards me, so we were standing chest to chest. It felt different when we were in the lake – especially the part when I was clinging onto Aaliyah for dear life.

I chuckle. God, how could I be so embarrassing?

"What's so funny?" Aaliyah asks as she searches my face.

I shake my head. "Nothing."

After that, we continued to sway together throughout the song; the silence between us was our new best friend. I was much taller than Aaliyah, her head only reaching to my shoulder – I could feel her heart thumping loudly in her chest. I wonder if she can hear mine.

The song ends. I can hear a clock tick tick ticking away close by. Turning my head slightly, I see a clock placed in the middle of the arch wall that leads to the kitchen. I'm surprised that the battery hasn't died yet. I didn't want to let go of Aaliyah yet, but she was already moving away from me.

She's walking to the kitchen, her fingers gliding across the dusty kitchen countertops, and stops at the teddy bear that was sitting there casually watching us. It would've been less creepy if it weren't torn and shredded in the middle, stuffing oozing out all over the countertop and floor. Aaliyah puts it back down and moves on from it, disappearing from my eyesight.

I follow where she's gone off to and see she's left through the back door. The sunlight hits my eyes. Quickly shielding them, I squint to look at the backyard. I feel my eyes widen in amazement. I move my hands away from my eyes and take a full look at it. The backyard was beautiful and a little overgrown. But that's what made it aesthetic. There were pastel and bold flower bushes. Beside me were red monochromatic flower arrangements that I couldn't take my eyes off. Walking towards Aaliyah, I realised I was on a dirt path that seemed to go around the farmhouse. I don't know how I didn't realise it sooner; though we were in the middle of an empty field of flowers and weeds, we were concealed from the outside world. In front of us was a lone tree. It was so thick and gnarled that the sunlight was struggling to filter through it, making little patches of the grass a pale white. Aaliyah hands me a blanket, a grin on her face.

I give her a sceptical look. Glancing down at the duffle bag, I realised that the zipper was open.

"Always prepared," I say, rolling my eyes.

She laughs at that. I unfold the blanket, shake it out, and place it on the grass.

Aaliyah took that as an opportunity to sit down on it first. Again, I watch as she rummages through the duffle bag. She brings out candy bars, a few sandwich boxes, some small orange juice boxes, crisps and a bag of peanuts; suddenly, Aaliyah stops and stares at the food, then looks up at me and laughs. "I sometimes forget we're old enough to drink. I forgot to bring Soju."

I shake my head. "It's okay, I swear." My brows furrow as I gaze at Aaliyah's profile. She was busy setting everything up to realise my staring eyes. I felt a sudden emptiness in the pit of my stomach. There was a time – a very long time – when I only drank alcohol, drowning myself in self-pity and misery. It was an awful phase. But I felt like it was helping me with the whole coping thing, it was not. The guys proved me otherwise, so I swore to them to not drink again.

Aaliyah pats a spot beside her. "You're hungry, right? I got your favourite sandwich." She smiles. "After all that swimming, I am famished."

I ignore that empty feeling and sit beside her.

published! MARCH 13TH, 2022