Stan
Stan Marsh entered the doors to the gym, arm in arm with his steady girlfriend, Wendy. They were dressed in similar outfits. She wore a pretty blue dress, while he wore a tux adorned a matching tie.
The music was loud and soul-shattering, pumping out some pop music through the many speakers that were placed throughout the large and vast area. As soon as he walked into the newly transformed and decorated gymnasium, he felt the bass reverberating throughout his chest. It sent a jolt of energy through his system. He was truly alive in this place.
"Hey, Stan. Do you want to dance?" Wendy asked, batting her eyelashes and sending him a devious grin. She grabbed his upper arm and slightly squeezed in order to get his attention.
"Wha?" he said, completely oblivious.
"Do you want to dance? With me? Your girlfriend," she repeated, looking aggravated; annoyance becoming obvious in her tone and facial expression.
"Sure," he said, nonchalantly.
Taking her hand in his, he began to lead her to the dance floor, shimmying his way through the crow. Once there, he took ahold of Wendy's slim waist and pulled her closer. She rested her hands on his chest and they began to slowly sway to the rhythm of the music. The song was slow and hypnotizing, beckoning couples to join in its quiet twangs of the guitars and the soft thumps of the drums.
The dance floor transformed from a place for rowdy reckless teens to a beautiful moment of couples' bliss. Romance reigned while the song played in the background. Couples whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears and shared in intimate conversations they wouldn't normally partake in public. It was a beautiful experience.
Pulling Wendy closer, he was able to smell the shampoo she used to wash her hair. The scent of strawberries entered his nose when he breathed deeper.
Tonight was going to be great. He just knew it.