The late June air is muggy and still and the rehearsal space is dim, making limbs heavy and conversations quiet. She’s standing by the open widow, a bolt of sunlight falling across the angles of her expressive face; Cassie, eyes downturned, talking in a rush of breath on her phone. She’s vivid and colourful in the stifling warmth and when she laughs – glorious and musical – there’s a shift of bodies, clusters of dancers parting slowly to let the sound cool in the stale air.
She twists her body towards the light, leaning her face into the faint breeze which picks up, briefly, outside. Long legs strike idle poses as she as she tips her head back, and her body hums with light. People watch her without really realising there’s anything else to watch. She’s somehow so powerfully present that’s she’s difficult to define; too alive to really be stopped or studied, her eyes too bright and her hair too wild. She’s all movement, prickly and dancing. She’s energy, barely contained.
Wide eyes glint and she arches an eyebrow as she turns and offers the room a smile that’s bright, delighted and unashamed.
Suddenly she’s casting her phone aside with a flurry of hands and an excited gasp, flying across the room. She’s spotted Rachel and before anyone else can react she’s reached her, bending low to crush her into the fiercest of hugs.
There’s a brief exchange as she pulls back, laughing again, and a hundred words all spill out at once. Eyes rolling and her face ever-changing, she listens intently to Rachel for a moment, the full force of her attention no less captivating now she’s fallen silent. This girl’s all red and black and orange. Kinetic and colourful in the murmur the room.