At first it's just a peripheral vision, a sudden movement somewhere in the corner of my eye. Chloe walks behind me down a flight of stairs when it happens, she says something but the 60s mod music drowns her voice. She's in a floral vintage dress and wine fumes, the city smells of summer sun and melting asphalt.
We dance but only with each other, a hundred mustached hipsters undress us with their advertising minds. Bowie sings about heroes and that vision shifts my balance again. Familiar faces flash, I see Carl for a split second but it's not him, it's Henry, coming towards us through the crowds.
"Call me" he says with his hand in my hair, the way he used to touch S. When he walks away he doesn't look anything like a Backstreet Boy and I see girls turning their heads to watch him go. This time Chloe just smiles and pulls me so close I can almost feel her heartbeats. A hundred drunken hipsters gasp for air.