Nice To Meet You Molly

It wasn't until the cab driver was yelling at him in some unknown language that he knew the drugs had fully kicked in.

It was tough to grasp what was going on. Where he was. What he was doing. Everything was a blur. Literally. The lights outside the cab were whizzing by, streaks of neon hues in the darkness of the night - like an endless cosmic shower. His nose was flooded with the smells of hundreds of street vendors - chicken, pork, duck, something spicy, the unmistakably pungent soy that seemed to seep from all directions.

It wasn't until he found the door to his mind and climbed back in did he realize he was hanging halfway out the window, reaching towards the neon signs that were zooming by, attracted to them like a moth towards an open flame - coming within inches of smashing his hands off passing pedestrians and mopeds. God everything was so amazing. Bright. Vibrant. Alive. He felt so small, lost amongst the sea of people that were around him, flying by at what seemed like light speed. So insignificant. One tiny little cog in a giant, ever turning machine.

By this time his heart was racing. Bouncing around in his chest, pumping his blood faster than ever before.

It made him want to dance. Shake every part of his body. Find a beat and marry it, have a love affair with it, caress it, move with it, find all its hidden curves. The spots no one else knew about. Whisper in its ear. Make it his. He didn't know how much longer he could sit in the back of the cab. It felt suffocating, like it was closing in on him. The world outside was so inviting. Vivid. Breathing. Alive.

Luckily for him, as he neared his snapping point, the taxi came to a screeching halt, parked in front of a dark alley that led deep into the soul of the City. He could hear the music, seeping out from within, somewhere deep down among the walls, hidden in the dark, behind some sort of door - the kind you'd have to knock, be judged through the peep hole, and let in if you passed the standards.

He could feel it. The energy. 

The pulsing of the City was calling him - for his heart wasn't the only one beating.