Blush Active
The January air was crisp and the air smelled of salt and hot butter. Over the sound of laughing children and young lovers, Lance Rayner breathed in deeply the smell of New Year's fun. Up until Christmas the air was always so full of Christmas music written in the 60s and Cinnamon-Sugar treats was almost a chore. Lance much preferred the New Year - just the cold air, the white lights and the smell of popcorn.
He could almost taste it.
As the subdued classical music played over the loudspeakers and the happy sound of the living washed over him, dressed in a black and red jacket and comfortable black jeans, he rubbed his gloved hands in front of his mouth as he breathed out a plume of unnecessary breath into the night air. He had his rented skates ready to put on and the tickets for two two hour sessions in his pocket. All he needed was his date.