Their faces smashed together as the onlookers gasped

Seamus wore tight fitting dress slacks with a tucked in white polo, buttons done all the way up. He was slightly taller than Volta, any hint of muscle definition hid under a layer of fat.

He looked like the kind of guy to only do curls while making full eye contact with himself at the gym. Nobody likes that guy.

Yet here he stood, surrounded by ten others who, at least to Volta, looked almost identical.

They must like him, thought Volta, or they're just bored out of their minds on a Wednesday night.

Seamus went to take another step towards Volta.

"I heard you're moving out West," Volta said softly, mocking undertones, "I heard that you've been kicked out of the family business."

Seamus stopped, blue eyes dilating in the changing light.

"Did you Uncle like our presentation?" Volta continued, smirking.

Seamus' nostrils flared.

"Shut up," he spat.

"Go on then, mate," Volta stepped towards him, "have at it."

Seamus looked around at his friends, uncomfortably standing in solidarity, unsure what exactly they were meant to be doing. No one was giving him any useful queues.

He stepped forward again until he was face-to-face with Volta, eyes wild with fury.

His chest swelled with huge breaths as if he were having a panic attack.

Volta had two options before him:

Knock him out cold, or;

Do something to really weird him out.

"Listen here you black cu--" Seamus went to grab Volta by the front of his shirt.

Before Seamus could finish his slur, Volta grabbed his hand out of the air and pulled him in close.

A thousand possibilities running through his mind, but only one spurred into action without a moment of hesitation.

Volta tipped his head up towards Seamus and kissed him.

Right on the lips.

Their faces smashed together as the onlookers gasped.

Shit.

Volta pulled away, dropping Seamus' hand.

Seamus stood, eyes still half-closed, mouth puckered, lips pushed outwards as if waiting for more.

"Seamus..." one of his friends grabbed him and pulled him backward.

Seamus was dazed, unresponsive.

His friends huddled around him, exchanging hushed words and looking over their shoulders to Volta who had resumed his 'fuck off' stance.

"Get off me!" shouted Seamus.

The crowd parted, and Seamus stumbled forward.

No composure, he glared at Volta, once perfectly slicked back hair now falling in his face.

"I'll get you for this," he snarled, "for everything you've done to me."

His friends moved about him again, guiding him back towards the cars.

Volta grinned at them.

Volta: 2

Seamus: 0

He was on a winning streak.

"Enjoy Birdsville," he shouted after Seamus, "I heard they're on track for the most days over 45 degrees in history."

He waved as Seamus clambered into the car, his friends still looking back over their shoulders as they dispersed.

Volta turned back to the hall, the sound of chairs scraping filling the air.

People began to spill out into the square, fanning themselves with Black Magic brochures.

He listened in on their conversations as they split towards the parking lot, and to the other side of the square en route to the train station.

People were smiling, tired but excited about the meeting. They shared ideas, babbling about the lectures and how they can make small changes in their workplaces. They were hopeful.

Volta smiled to himself, this evening had gone better than he had planned.

Daisy, Boyd, and Desmond emerged from the hall.

He watched as they ran about the square with other young children, squealing as they hid and tried to surprise one another.

Though he couldn't remember his childhood, he doubted it looked like that.

Karen came not long after, deep in conversation with an older lady.

"You know, my great grandfather was Aboriginal," the lady said, "he was a farmhand on my family's station, he worked very hard."

Karen's face showed no expression as she descended the stairs, listening intently. This definitely wasn't the first time she had heard this story.

Her eyes slid to Volta as she drew near.

She wrapped up the conversation by giving the lady her business card and wishing her well.

"Farmhand," Karen whispered to Volta, rolling her eyes as she sidled up to him, "old people talk for a slave."

Volta gave an awkward smile, unsure of how to respond.

Her energy had changed since the start of the meeting.

Something was on her mind, he could feel it.

He turned to her, trying to emit safe vibes... if that were even a thing he could do.

"Volta..." she turned to him, biting down on her bottom lip, "I didn't really think about how you must be feeling..." she looked away.

"What do you mean?" he breathed, heart racing.

Could she possibly know he was already developing feelings for her?

Was that being transmitted through his energy field?

He shook his head.

Karen rose an eyebrow.

"I mean that you're the only Gubbi Gubbi around here, and you don't seem to know what happened to the last of the Nambour Gubbi."

Volta froze, a chill down his spine.

"You know something?" he whispered, hand outstretched.

Karen nodded.

"Yes, I think I know more than you."

Her children ran circles around them, filling the air with their small noises.

"And..." Volta slid her a look as he turned his head away, trying hard not to look desperate, "...and you'll tell me?"

"Mm." she said, holding her hand out to him.

Volta looked around, then back to Karen.

Does she want me to take her hand? He thought.

She waved her hand impatiently.

"Quickly now."

Her energy pulsated, sounding like cicadas on dusk.

It was deafening, pressing down on Volta as he reached his hand out to hers.

He didn't think, his eyes focussed on her hand as he grabbed it.

His body was transported in a flash of light, before him, a series of images flickered as if being downloaded from Karen's memories.

He struggled to keep up as her energy flowed through him, strangely familiar faces floating through the air.

His heart raced from his chest as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

One image now before him; the woman from his visions. She wasn't angelic as he had seen her, rather she was in normal clothing as she stood before a group of people in Petrie Park.

She opened her mouth to speak--

The vision stopped.

Volta was back in the town square, Karen had removed her hand.

He looked around.

Karen was looking away, shaking her hand like it had been shocked.

She was glaring up the steps of the building where the Korean man stood.

He made eye contact with Volta, black eyes all-knowing.

"Volta," Karen came closer to him, "I have to go. But let's meet again, it's important I show you this."

Volta kept eye contact with the Korean, nodding his head in agreement.

"Tomorrow," he said, "tomorrow morning. Show me then."

"Ok," she motioned to her children, "meet me in the park at school drop off time."

Volta nodded.

Karen whisked Daisy, Boyd, and Desmond away.

Next to the Korean man stood Velvet, looking like she was just punched in the stomach.

Had they just seen everything he had?

Or was it something else?

The Korean man grabbed Velvet's hand and pulled her down the steps, talking to her softly as they left the square.

Velvet looked back over her shoulder at Volta.

He looked back, blinking, waves of ambiguous energy ebbing and flowing across the large space towards her.

It was like they were having a conversation, but neither knew what they were saying.

Not yet, anyway.