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The festival sprawled across the valley like a painter’s riotous daydream. Multicolored banners fluttered on high poles, their edges catching the golden light of the setting sun. Lanterns dangled from trees, their warm glow slowly overtaking the fading daylight, while strings of fairy lights looped around tents that housed everything from hand-carved trinkets to sizzling food stalls. The air buzzed with the scent of roasted nuts, smoky barbecue, and the faint tang of freshly poured beer.
Cecilia adjusted the strap of her violin case, her pale silver hair shimmering under the glow of the lights. The brass bow-shaped ornament that perched in her hair—a clockwork key in design—caught the lantern light, throwing playful sparks of reflection as she moved. Her green eyes darted around the festival, taking in the spectacle of noise and color.
This wasn’t her usual scene. Cecilia preferred the quiet solace of tea shops, the careful stillness of concert halls, where every sound was intentional and meaningful. But here? Here was chaos wrapped in sound—a mixture of stomping feet, laughing voices, and melodies from competing stages. And yet, despite the overwhelming swirl of activity, she couldn’t deny the electric allure of it all.
Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all, she thought, weaving through the crowd. Her plan was simple: find a quiet corner to listen, absorb the sounds, and maybe find inspiration for her next composition. But as her gaze landed near the main stage, her steps faltered.
At the heart of the open-air audience was a woman who seemed to command the space around her. Two-toned hair—light and dark brown, tied into playful bunches—bounced with her every movement. She danced with abandon, her arms raised high and her feet stamping out a rhythm entirely her own. Her pink eyes sparkled, catching the strings of light above like gemstones.
Cecilia’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sure if it was the woman’s poise or her chaos that captivated her. Perhaps both. The way she moved—untamed, completely lost in the moment—felt like an unspoken challenge to the orderly rhythm Cecilia held so dear.
And then, as if sensing Cecilia’s gaze, the woman spun on her heel. Their eyes locked, and Cecilia felt her stomach twist. The noise of the festival seemed to fall away, leaving only the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.
The woman’s grin widened as she sauntered over, her movements confident and unhurried. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?” she said, her voice rich with amusement.
Cecilia froze. How do one politely say, Yes, I’ve been utterly captivated by you for the last five minutes? Clearing her throat, she opted for honesty. “Well, you’re… impossible to miss.”
The woman tilted her head, her smile deepening into something mischievous. “Impossible to miss? That’s the kind of thing people say when they don’t want to admit they were staring.”
Cecilia flushed, but her expression didn’t waver. “Maybe I was. You don’t seem like someone who’d mind the attention.”
“Not when it’s coming from someone interesting.” The woman’s gaze flicked to the violin case slung over Cecilia’s shoulder. “You a performer, or are you just carrying that around to look mysterious?”
“I’m a musician,” Cecilia replied. “Though today, I’m just here to listen.”
“Cecilia Immergreen,” she offered, extending her hand.
The woman took it without hesitation, her grip warm and firm. “Gigi Murin,” she said. Her grin widened, and she gestured toward the stage as the next band began. “And you’re not just listening anymore. Dance with me.”
“Oh, I don’t—” Cecilia started, but Gigi grabbed her hand and tugged her forward.
“Don’t what? Dance? Don’t worry, I’ll lead.”
The crowd’s energy enveloped them, and before Cecilia could argue, Gigi’s hand settled on her waist. The other held Cecilia’s hand high, guiding her movements. At first, Cecilia stumbled, completely out of her element.
“You’re terrible at this,” Gigi teased, her pink eyes alight with amusement.
“I warned you,” Cecilia replied, fighting the urge to laugh.
“Relax,” Gigi said, her voice softening as her grip steadied Cecilia. “Just follow me.”
With a deep breath, Cecilia let herself be led, their movements falling into a rhythm that matched the lively music. The crowd around them blurred, and all Cecilia could see was the playful determination in Gigi’s gaze.
The song ended too quickly, leaving Cecilia breathless and slightly dazed.
“Barely survived that,” Cecilia said, her tone laced with dry humor.
“You did fine,” Gigi replied, her grin unrelenting. “Come on, let’s grab a seat. I’ve got something to help you unwind.”
She led Cecilia to a quieter corner of the festival, where benches sat under the warm glow of lanterns. Gigi dropped onto one with a carefree plop, reaching into her bag to pull out a small flask.
“Tell me that’s tea,” Cecilia said, arching a brow.
“Not exactly,” Gigi replied, unscrewing the cap with a flourish. “Moonshine. Want a sip?”
Cecilia hesitated, then sighed, accepting the flask. The first sip burned, making her cough, and Gigi’s loud laugh echoed through the night.
“That’s vile,” Cecilia croaked, handing it back.
“First sip always is,” Gigi said, taking her own swig. “Try again—it grows on you.”
Cecilia took another sip, the warmth spreading through her chest and limbs. “Still vile,” she muttered, though her lips quirked up in a reluctant smile.
Gigi leaned back, her arm draping over the bench’s backrest so her fingers brushed Cecilia’s shoulder. “So, what’s your deal? You don’t exactly scream ‘music festival regular.’”
Cecilia smirked. “I could say the same about you. You don’t exactly scream ‘law-abiding citizen.’”
“Touché,” Gigi said with a chuckle. “But I asked first.”
Cecilia relaxed slightly. “I’m a musician. I came here for inspiration, to surround myself with sound and energy. Sometimes it helps.”
“And?” Gigi prompted.
“And… I didn’t expect to end up dancing with someone who smuggles moonshine into festivals.”
Gigi laughed. “I like to keep things interesting.” She studied Cecilia for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re interesting. And I don’t say that about just anyone.”
Cecilia felt her cheeks heat, though she tried to hide it by fiddling with her violin case.
Gigi leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to make Cecilia’s breath catch. “Play something for me,” she said. “One song. If it’s as good as I think it’ll be, I’ll treat you to the best tea this festival has to offer.”
“And if it’s not?”
“Then you owe me another dance.”
Cecilia considered her for a moment, then finally unsnapped the latches on her violin case. “Alright,” she said, resting the instrument against her shoulder. “But don’t blame me if you fall in love halfway through.”
“Already halfway there,” Gigi murmured, her smile growing.
Cecilia shook her head, unable to fight her own smile, and began to play. The first notes sang out, delicate and clear, cutting through the noise of the festival like a silver ribbon. Gigi leaned back, her grin softening into something almost reverent as she watched Cecilia lose herself in the music.
By the time the song ended, the lanterns seemed to glow a little brighter, the distant hum of the festival fading back in. Cecilia lowered her violin, her heart pounding.
“Well?” she asked, looking up at Gigi.
Gigi’s grin returned, wide and unapologetic. “I think I owe you that tea. But first…” She stood, holding out her hand. “One more dance?”
The festival had reached its peak, the air alive with voices, music, and the hum of laughter echoing through the lantern-lit grounds. Cecilia felt the weight of the day slipping away, replaced by something lighter, warmer. It could have been the moonshine still lingering on her tongue, the electric atmosphere of the crowd, or—most likely—the infectious charm of Gigi, whose grin never seemed to fade.
She found herself watching Gigi more than she expected, noting the way the lantern light caught the playful bounce of her two-toned hair or the glint in her pink eyes when she made Cecilia laugh. Gigi had a way of pulling her into the moment, peeling back layers of guardedness Cecilia didn’t even realize she’d been holding on to.
The stage buzzed with anticipation as the next band began to play. A bold country tune broke through the air, its rhythm playful and full of swagger. The opening chords sent ripples of energy through the crowd, and Cecilia felt her heart thump in time with the beat.
Then the lyrics began, a flirtatious hook that caught Cecilia completely off guard:
“You look like you love me,
You look like you want me,
To want you to come on home…”
Cecilia felt the words vibrate in her chest as Gigi froze mid-sentence. For a moment, Gigi’s expression shifted into something almost reverent before a grin spread across her face, wide and unapologetic. She turned toward Cecilia, her pink eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh, this is my jam,” Gigi said, her voice practically purring with excitement.
Cecilia raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into an amused smile despite herself. “Your jam?”
“Absolutely.” Gigi was already standing, holding out her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And it’s perfect for us. Come on.”
Cecilia glanced at the hand and then at Gigi’s face, equal parts skeptical and intrigued. “Gigi—” she started, intending to protest, but her words were cut off by the warmth of Gigi’s fingers slipping into hers.
The music had a lively swing to it, the kind that made standing still feel like a crime. Before Cecilia could overthink it, Gigi was guiding her toward the edge of the crowd, where a small space had opened up for dancing. The lantern light bathed the area in a golden glow, and Cecilia felt her earlier hesitations melt away as Gigi spun her lightly in time with the beat.
“See? Told you I’d get you back out here,” Gigi said, her grin wide and triumphant.
“You’re impossible,” Cecilia replied, though the laugh that escaped her betrayed her amusement.
“And you’re dancing,” Gigi shot back, swaying closer as the lyrics wrapped around them:
“Baby, I don’t blame you,
For looking me up and down across this room…”
The words hung in the air between them, bold and intimate, and Cecilia couldn’t help but notice how Gigi’s playful demeanor softened just slightly. Her pink eyes lingered on Cecilia’s, searching, teasing, but without the pressure Cecilia expected.
“You’re not half bad at this,” Gigi murmured, her voice quieter now, though the teasing edge remained.
“I have a good teacher,” Cecilia replied, her tone light but sincere.
Gigi’s laugh was low and warm, a sound that seemed to settle in Cecilia’s chest and take root there. She spun them again, their joined hands creating a circle of motion that felt easy and unhurried. When they stopped, Gigi’s hand settled lightly on Cecilia’s waist, the other still holding hers.
The lyrics returned, threading through the space between them:
“You look like you love me,
You look like you want me,
To want you to come on home…”
Cecilia felt her breath catch as the words sank deeper this time, weaving themselves into the rhythm of her heartbeat. Gigi’s movements slowed, her gaze searching Cecilia’s face with an openness that made her stomach flutter.
“You alright?” Gigi asked softly, her voice barely rising above the music.
Cecilia hesitated, her heart racing. “This… feels like a lot,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Gigi said, her tone steady and reassuring. Her hand stayed steady on Cecilia’s waist, a grounding touch that was light yet somehow anchoring. “We’re just dancing. That’s all.”
But the way Gigi’s eyes held hers—the softness there, the unspoken promise—made it clear that it wasn’t just dancing.
“Or maybe it’s more than that,” Gigi added after a moment, her grin returning, slow and mischievous. “Not that I’d mind.”
Cecilia’s cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at their joined hands, unsure of how to respond. But when she looked back up, Gigi was still there, patient, steady, and unflinching.
The song wound toward its final chorus, the lyrics landing with new weight:
“I’m drunk and I’m ready to leave,
And you look like you love me…”
“Tell you what,” Gigi said suddenly, her grin turning playful again, breaking the moment’s tension just enough. “This will be our last dance for today. Then I’ll take you back to that bench, and we’ll finish off the moonshine. Deal?”
Cecilia let out a small laugh, the tension easing into something warm and familiar. “Deal.”
They moved together as the music swelled, their steps less precise now but filled with a natural rhythm that made everything else fade away. Cecilia wasn’t sure where the night would take her, but for the first time, she wasn’t worried about it.
As the final notes of the song faded, Gigi leaned in just slightly, her voice low and teasing. “You do know you’re coming back to dance with me again tomorrow, right?”
Cecilia smirked, her green eyes glinting. “We’ll see.”
But as Gigi slipped her hand back into Cecilia’s to lead her toward the bench, Cecilia already knew the answer.